Update as of September 5, 2016. Minor corrections, content almost the same.
BTW the final chapter is on the way. I've decided to end this fanfiction as a response to my motivation of doing another project(s), which will be mostly one shots. But part of the reason is a little change of heart. I'll explain the details once I culminated the Chapter 13 of this Ianthony's fanfic We Only Belong to Each Other.
CHAPTER 12: SPECIAL REQUEST
"I need to meet him after." Anthony said while striding along the living room carrying a cup of coffee.
"You're fine with this?" Ian inquired. No hint of anxiety was traceable in his voice. He rather tried to confirm than opening an argument. Deep inside, the notion that Anthony wouldn't be around is partly strange but never unsettling. Ian found his feelings and disposition in a more "secured" state. After the Gades' war, Anthony transitioned exponentially to something new. Everyone is safe. Ian felt comfortable in ways that his qualms and inhibitions got washed away. Inhibitions? The word felt out of place. Since when did Ian have reserves between himself and Anthony? As dense as he was always, Ian brushed the word.
"It's just half the day." Anthony snapped him out of his musing, setting his mug on the center table of the living room. "Maybe a lot quicker I hope."
"Why is my attendance not needed anymore?" Ian asked curiously.
"Well, despite how chaotic the situation was special heirs like you are exempted from hearings." The word special impacted Ian differently. He raised his brows while flicking some random magazine on the couch. "The old man seemed to get everything legislated across this family to save you from needless involvement." Anthony explained while wrapping a red and black striped scarf around his neck and finally donning his jet black jacket. Ian can detect a little sarcasm in Anthony's voice. It was as if Anthony was telling him "I'm cleaning this shit, no need to worry, just relax". Ian however is used to this. Besides, Anthony's eyes didn't match well his derision. A mild cynicism was always coupled by a gentle, protective assurance. Anthony will always be like that.
"Needless you say?" Ian said incredulously.
"Besides…even if I'm away I nonetheless feel more in control." Anthony admitted, smirking but frowning. Saving the fact from Ian, Anthony felt extraordinarily more powerful. He can see things around him a lot clearer compared before. Even though he still can't sense Ian, there's nothing around him that he can't detect. He can literally feel and predict in split seconds how living and non-living things move around. In his mind, a vast field of sensory reach is fully displayed; flawless, visible and very predictable. He felt more "godly". But there's something he can't shake off. Excluding the fact that he still needs to settle his feelings from his oldest friend there's a tiny weensy detail he can't describe and keeps him uncomfortable. It's a sense of foreboding, no mistaking it. It is the reason why he needed to see him again. There is also a score he need to settle with Michael.
"Federick will be around quarter to nine." Anthony said unflappably.
"Can I go outside a bit?" Ian pleads for consent.
"Uhm." Anthony hesitated. He knows there's no need to be to be super ultra-protective around Ian now. Even if he's miles away he can monitor him easily plus there are attendants in his behalf for the moment. They were the best of their league, not to mention this specific person is Federick, the one who helped him recover. In addition to that, Ian's making a face. Anthony felt disheartened, as per usual, to deny him a simple request. "Sure." Anthony finally agreed, sighing and then he added. "If I wanted to I can teleport instantly beside you." Anthony simpered to which Ian gave him an arched eyebrow clearly meant to point the lack of humility in him.
"I can tell that there are at least five agents stationed around. Two of them about a mile away from us, while the remaining three just flounces around, reading the area." Anthony chuckled, trying to emphasize the superb shape of his sensing skills. He was not wrong after all. Five guardians were stationed to stay guard. Anthony can tell they were not ordinary agents. Even though they did well hiding their presence, Anthony can still sense their exact locations and can estimate their caliber by their mere "false" movements. Their presence is a response to Anthony's situation. While he's busting his ass to brush off probably the most stupid suspicions from Irish echelons, tough security must be imposed to the heir he temporarily abandons.
"And he's around in my stead." Anthony added. Ian suspected a tinge of sarcasm again in his voice but decided not to investigate.
Ian didn't hear anymore from Anthony except for a short "see you" with a wink of his right eye. Frowning, he closed the magazine, finished his tea and bustled around the house doing the same things he always did. He snatched a moment to take a peak in one of their living room windows. Ian can't see anyone around. "Of course they're hiding" Ian noted mentally. He decided to clean and keep things organized around. For some weird reason a visitor is enough for Ian to keep their home tidy and presentable. Something tells him that Federick was of a glitzy character, that his coal black eyes were keen tools to scan things…judge things. It was unlikely for him to be worried about outsider's perception of him or Anthony. Maybe he was so used to having only Anthony around that he didn't feel very much acquainted with other people. Ian needed not to impress anybody. But Federick is somehow part of their lives now. Not that he'll be staying with them indefinitely, but frequent visits might be a thing in the future. Besides he owes a huge debt from the man. Albeit such feeling of impressing someone is foreign, he feels obligated to be wary of their lifestyle habits and whatnots.
Peace talks had been all around. Both the Hipstein and Gades agreed mutually to be transparent and helpful of the situation. All discreet arrangements had been arranged by Michael's best team. Ian had nothing to stress about, especially security. Since Anthony, save Ian, is one of the foremost "cast" of the recent skirmish, he'll be facing confirmations to substantiate a report necessary to press those who are truly liable. Since Anthony's recovery and until now, Federick will fill his spot momentarily. And as Anthony revealed, a team of special agents, consisting of five, were posed to reinforce his safety.
No doorbell but a knock disturbed the drifty mood Ian was succumbing to.
"Ian!? You there?" a booming voice penetrated the thick oak wood door.
Ian sighed, broom still on his right hand. He felt slightly stupid for carrying it until he was about to open the door. He quickly snatched a second to place it quickly around the kitchen and got back behind the door. Upon opening the door a towering man beamed handsomely and greeted him. Federick looked always presentable and professional at all times. His dark, raven hair was exactly the same cut he remembered when he first met him. His coal black eyes looked piercing as usual. His pale skin contrasted the darkness shade of his hair and eyes which was cool as it accentuates his features. Sometimes Ian had to fight the urge to punch Federick straight in the face to see if he bleeds, just to verify if he was human.
"Just in time I guess?" Federick probed.
"Err, you're fifteen minutes early." Ian responded, staring briefly on his watch. When he saw Federick suddenly wore a vacant face and not budging a bit he immediately jested.
"Come in you dork!" Both of them laughed.
While Ian led Federick in he can't help but notice the familiar whiff of perfume he puts on. It was the same scent he smelled during his days attending to Anthony's weak state. Fragrance never appealed to Ian, but something of Federick's perfume made him felt nostalgic and extremely relaxed. He recalls the scent but can't remember where.
"Do you want breakfast?" Ian invited, moving around the kitchen, while Federick laid his shoulder bag on a couch. Federick refused Ian's offer, shaking his head in response.
"Can I please make you a coffee then for these entire nuisance?" Ian insisted on something to which Federick chuckled and agreed. The word nuisance impacted him differently. Ian moved towards the cupboard and reached for a distinct roast coffee, removing the seal and scooping some good helping into the coffee maker. Surprisingly, Federick noticed him procuring two saucers and teacups. "He'll have coffee too?" Federick ruminated, scratching his beard, as if he knew what Ian normally drank during and between conversations. He further confirmed this as the amount of ground coffee Ian scooped was too much for a single person.
Ian can't help but sense Federick eyeing him. He felt a bit insecure. He felt the same when Anthony was doing such act, but Federick was quite different. When he caught his eyes, Federick didn't even blink or flinched, he grinned instead. It was as if he wanted Ian to get a glimpse of him gazing straight at him.
"Don't stare at me like that." Ian confronted.
Federick scoffed and budged a bit from his seat.
"What's funny?" Ian asked, sounding tough and serious. The other guy remained silent and shook his head, smiling. Ian, although annoyed a bit, instead took the broom he left beside the refrigerator.
"Were you cleaning?" Federick immediately inquired, furrowing his brows.
"Yeah I was." Ian answered stiffly.
"Relax Ian. You're being too tense, I don't understand why." Federick quickly interjected. Ian realized the sudden crack of his temperament. He reminded himself to maintain his cool. Maybe he was just being an outspoken person that straightforwardness was a normal knack for him. He suspects Anthony's absence is a direct cause of his mood swing. Maybe Federick's presence bothers him. Is the house not too clean yet? It felt mixed up and confusing and it annoys him even more. He realized being rude will do no good. Ian took a deep but not so obvious deep breath. There's a guest and he needed to act the part properly.
"Sorry, don't mind me. I think I'm like this when he's not around." Ian apologized, revealing his reasons honestly, and quickly vanished in sight, carrying with him the broom he held recently. When he got back, his face swiftly changed to a friendlier visage Federick recognized long ago.
"Stop worrying too much." Federick explained, as if it was the right phrase Ian needed for the moment. Ian's disposition shifted to a slightly exuberant phase.
"We have people trained to handle situations like this. It's not the first in history." Federick explained.
Ian took the coffee and poured it to both teacups and served one to Federick. He took a jar of milk and a canister of sugar.
"So you're drinking coffee." Federick suspected.
"Of course I do." Ian answered, sounding surprised and not too defensive. But Ian found it off. He never drank coffee with Anthony. He guessed this was the first time he did it, but with someone else. Federick snapped him out of brief musing. He prattled about how his predecessors, specifically the 7th successor experienced the same situation he and Anthony is in now.
"I've only heard a summarized version, a tad bit of detailed ones so don't draw too much comparison and conclude things." Federick guided Ian, but the latter shook his head, sighing.
"Would you accompany me?" Ian muttered and stood, finishing his cup of coffee. Firstly, Federick was a bit surprised by his disinterest. Maybe it's in Ian's nature to not question things too much. Federick assumed it an inherent nature of him. Secondly he can tell the eagerness of Ian to venture outside. He can tell the freedom radiating in him. Maybe Anthony's triumph unshackled the restraints of Ian. He was always excited to go outside before, but the feel was always different.
"Where?" Federick asked interestingly.
"To the mall?" Ian answered honestly.
"You had his…" Federick frowned, trying to confirm something.
"Permission?" Ian finished. "Yeah. Even if we're miles away, Anthony knows. I don't know what hit him to act so cool and powerful but I trust him."
"All right we'll be…strolling around then." Federick smiled. Ian can't find to be angry with this guy if he just focused his eyes on him. Federick possessed some distinct form of charisma that he can tell apart from any other people he met.
Anthony regards colossal court halls and immense auditoriums. It amazes him how humans managed to build such scale of beauty. The structural layout and important foundation impressed him how intellectual people can be in league of evolving time. But what contained these brilliant creations despised him. To be more specific, those that used it. The politic-driven board members and collective bodies that used these Hipstein architectures never ticked his interest. Vexing and tedious might be an understatement. All the excruciating spouts and jabbers, mindless dialogues and cold decreeing eyes looking down upon him gave him the hidden spite. The abhorrence he harbors was similar to the intently revulsion he directed against Michael. The plain sight of people who assume power and grant judgment never drew him. Their sorry presence always reminded him of freedom disguised as being separated from the world's grip. Liberty is timed. One's life is a trade for such measly independence they proudly call a price.
Anthony's line of sight tore the illuminating beams of sunlight passing solemnly through a grandiose glasswork, reflecting an imposing myriad of piercing colors and ageless history. His eyes appreciated the beauty of such natural art, but his senses, despite the absence of seeing, esteemed the leisurely flow of particles and space. It was clearer. The vividness of his surroundings felt more united. Before his absoluteness continued, his abstraction was broken by a familiar ring of his cellphone. It didn't surprise him to hear the ringtone. The notification was exclusively assigned to a person that tied all what his life meant.
"Same place Anthony." a familiar man's voice lingered.
"Alright." Anthony responded flatly and strode away from the ironic scene of courtroom he admired and hated.
It only took ten minutes for him to arrive. Before, it was the place where this person who called him slapped the truth of his feelings for Ian. A weird lump of discomfort formed inside his throat. Anthony ignored the annoying sensation. As expected, the silhouette of a man emanated from the right portion of the large room he just went in. Déjà vu.
"I know things won't go down the drain easily, but our people will manage." Michael said in his signature hollow tone. Anthony scoffed in return to which the other obviously ignored. Honestly, Anthony is chilled by how Michael consistently delivers the hollowness of his demeanor. Yes, it was an impenetrable tactical scheme. But from the memories of his trials, he can't seem to draw similarity between the man who suffered and sacrificed everything in the past from the person he sees right now. Had he became truly a monster? Yes. Only patience can guide him to reverse the fate he'd ruefully chosen. Anthony only felt pity.
"Coffee?" Michael offered signaling him towards the pantry.
"Sure, as if I could refuse." Anthony muttered sarcastically. He knew that he needed to cut his sardonic attitude and extract information, revelation or whatever Michael has in store for him right now. Aside from an infuriating revelation he just found, there is something in the air smells important concern.
As detailed and carbon copied Anthony could remember it, Michael prepared coffee in a similar but a bit different fashion the last time he talked to him in the same room.
"Are you happy with your new place?" Michael stalled. As much as Anthony wanted to repress his derisive behavior he cut him curtly.
"Is that seriously what you want from me right now?"
Michael didn't budge. He remained focused, preparing coffee while Anthony pressed his words with the weight candor.
"Cut the chase old man I know he's there."
Michael remained impassive letting Anthony's indictment linger in the air. He was impressed by the sharpness of Anthony's senses. He knew he would be pointing that out. Michael wanted him.
"Why didn't you tell me soon?" Anthony demanded, his temper slowly rising but he suppressed further upon seeing Michael's detached expression. A clash of thoughts warred inside him. This guy is up to something or is he that callous enough to deny any sense of reason? A shade of emotion?
"I owed that man a lot. Intervening was an option I won't pass." Michael muttered in thick, unperturbed voice. He sipped his coffee and placed the cup as if to reveal something else. Anthony frowned as Michael sauntered in front of him, opposite the counter and sat face to face with the reigning sentinel of this generation.
"Aside from that I have other pressing matters to point out." Michael noted. "Nathall was the sun and light. Alfred was the cold and darkness. He meant a lot to you and Ian, but his existence should no longer concern you." Michael said in a surgically cold and cryptic voice. Anthony could only furrow his brows in irritation.
"What else crap does Michael have? Is this seriously what he wanted me to feel after finding out that my predecessor was still alive? What the fuck is with this geezer?" Anthony suppressed the act of screaming his frustration and shot a deadly gaze. It annoyed him even more when Michael remained expressionless and undaunted. And reason struck him. Anthony kept his composure and tried and hoped to maintain in employing a civil method. This is Michael. A person…no a monster used to mind games, tricks or any multi-layered bullshits and balderdashes. Composure is your primary weapon and shield. Anthony allowed it to flow inside his senses. This has to be dealt with a cool head.
"Look, I just had a great moment this day so…please what is it you want from me right now?"
Few seconds drifted before Michael asked Anthony which the latter, of course, always find strange.
"Shut your senses for a moment Anthony. Trust me. Do this favor for me."
Anthony couldn't tell exactly what Michael is up to but something tells him that abiding was feasible. He probably didn't need to sense things around Ian. Besides there was Federick, trustworthy and powerful enough to take his stead momentarily. What is Michael trying to verify now? Before he stuffs his head with worries he complied with his mentor.
"Lay your hands, palms upward." Michael further instructed.
Somewhere inside Anthony's head toyed the idea that Michael might do some fortunetelling. Is Michael such a guy? As of this moment? Anthony was too dumbfounded. At least the thought brightened his mood briefly until Michael quickly intercepted his train of thoughts by sighing.
"What is it?" Anthony said curiously.
"As I thought…" Michael declared, stood and moved to procure a glass of water.
"What?" Anthony asked, a bit aggravated. There was an uncomfortable silence hanging. Anthony hated it, he knows what it's like. It felt like gaping in a dark expecting a jump scare.
"As expected Aucelus' oath was ironclad. He failed to plant it against Ian but he had you instead." Michael declared while Anthony responded only with a frown, but his insides knotted.
"What are you exactly telling me?" Anthony asked once more.
"I suspected it when I saw you in the courtroom hours ago. I only confirmed it now." Michael explained further. Anthony wasn't too stupid, he knows what he meant, but disbelief prevents him from accepting it. He needed confirmation. Another sore silence floated in the air until Michael muttered again.
"Your days are nearing to an end Anthony…" Michael said indifferently.
Anthony felt afloat. He couldn't register clearly what Michael was saying. He never felt the joke and silliness ever from this man. He tried altering his senses, reading carefully his surroundings, verifying if everything around including himself is real. Is this a dream? No and it hit him. Something did feel off. The ominous feel always clutching. It was harbored inside him until this man affirmed it.
"Your soul is fading. Normal is anything but a disguise."
Wordless, Anthony remained immobile. He recalled the dreams during his recovery. He never believed what dreams meant. But he had an open mind. There isn't anything in this world he is living that is not impossible. It clicked. It wasn't all too easy beating the unknown. Even if it ended it just opened another chapter of choices. Did he really think that even though he felt more powerful and in control right now that something may not be wrong? Normal is anything but a disguise. The last phrase from Michael echoed.
Anthony didn't even have the urge to finish his coffee. Although Anthony didn't see it initially and for the rarest moment, Michael looked concerned. He wanted someone, even Michael, to snap him out of his emotional trance and tell him it was just a joke. But nothing came. The whiff of silence remained in the air. Truth hangs like a final judgment to be passed.
"What about…him?" Anthony implored, pretending to rub his eyes.
Michael didn't budge. He placed his glass of water and sighed.
"I'll figure something."
"How long do I have?"
"Less than two years." Michael told him directly.
Anthony smiles although his eyes didn't express the same.
Long seconds of silence again.
"Can I see Alfred?"
"In the right time. For now live everyday like it's your last with Ian."
"Oh shit look at that lady." Ian said excitedly, trying to contain his amusement. He grabbed Federick by the wrist and directs him to his point of hilarity and snickered. A woman absurdly dressed, revealing her plump body and discomfortingly inconvenient way of handling it while walking back and forth mumbling to her exaggeratedly large smart phone. Her lipstick and make-up made it even more a sight to behold. Federick shook his head. He honestly didn't find it funny but he couldn't help smiling seeing Ian shaming someone at a distance.
"Come on ma'am! You absolutely have no business in our agency." Ian mimicked a booming voice, gazing at the security guard who stood in front of a large salon and looked stunned by the presence of the woman.
"You've got the wrong ticket to vouch for lady." Ian continued harassing, shaking his head and looked haughty.
"I think you're drunk." Federick accused Ian, who responded with a frown and scoff.
"Come on stop it, let's go somewhere."
"Alright I'm sorry. Sorry ma'am." Ian apologized; even to the lady he was secretly insulting.
"That's terrible Ian." Federick tried lecturing while they both strode along the mildly crowded hallway of the mall.
"I'm just trying to enjoy here mister."
Federick arched his brows, rolling his eyes and sighing.
"I said I was sorry okay? I didn't mean any of it." Ian said contritely.
"What do you want to eat?" Federick said, forgetting instantly Ian's indecent behavior lately.
"Not really hungry, you cool for ice cream?" Ian offered.
"That's fine." Federick agreed and they bought probably the most expensive type of gelato ice cream. Pity might be a part of their choice or convenience was the most appropriate reason since the booth didn't have too much people queuing and Ian hated waiting.
Walking was tiring for Ian. Luckily he found one empty bench chilling around a fountain attraction nicely placed in the center of the mall's grand atrium. Federick was following him when he noticed an instant oddness on Ian. Ian sensed a couple few meters away from them and almost the same distance as with them from the empty bench. It was a battle of speed of course. After Ian shot a deadly gaze at the couple, the guy who held her girlfriend firmly sent him an unfriendly stare. Ian grabbed Federick's wrist and sped off, dragging him in the process. Ian succeeded. He licked happily his gelato ice cream and smirked over the couple. Federick can't help but chuckle.
"You just didn't piss that pair did you?"
"Why? I can't afford letting this lovely seat for a cozy space for some couple to smooch. My feet protests and I have to be selfish." Ian explained, almost finishing his ice cream.
"You're acting really childish." Federick shook his head but tittered.
"It's nice being childish some…oh well, most of the times."
"Cute."
"What?"
"I said that's cute."
"What?" Ian feigned. Federick frowned and sighed.
"You're cute."
"Thanks." Ian grinned not minding a stain of ice cream smearing his beard to which Federick offered a piece of tissue. Ian creased his brows in confusion until Federick gestured his own beard and thank goodness he got what he implied. Federick smiled but unknowingly stopped eating his ice cream until Ian broke his stupor.
"You're going to finish that?" Ian said, eyeing over Federick's ice cream.
"Yeah." Federick collected his cool and noticed Ian staring at him, well at his ice cream.
"You want this?" Federick eyed him, undecided.
"Of course not. That's just gross. You have saliva all over that thing." Ian said incredulously. Federick laughed, picking up a tissue.
"Then go get yourself another one."
Ian only shot him a disapproving look.
"You're one lazy dog aren't you?"
"Maybe I'll get some pretzels." Ian ignored him, extending his head and ogling at the pretzel booth few meters away from the gelato ice cream stand they went recently.
"You want one?" Ian offered to which Federick shook his head, resigned to eating anything else other than the one currently in his hands.
"I'm done adding more calories in my body today."
Ian rolled his eyes. "No wonder you have a gorgeous physique eh?" He was damn well sure even now that Federick was always wary of his diet. This came out a normal observation but he confirmed it a lot of times. One moment he saw him coming out of his room with just a towel wrapped around his waist and Ian was stunned by the unquestionably well-built stature of Federick's body. Ripped and muscular, no wonder he had the most straightforward and disciplined eating and self-grooming habit compared to anyone he met, even Anthony. His eating patterns are way strictly scheduled and Ian finds his messed up diet to be total garbage in comparison to Federick. Even with clothes on anyone can instantly tell the guy's healthy shape. Federick wears long sleeves most of the time, accentuating well his not too brawny but adequately fit body. Is he really just a doctor? Ian sometimes asks. Of course he is a soldier. Physical discipline is a strict requisite.
"Thanks." Federick beamed handsomely to which Ian shifted his gaze immediately, afraid getting sucked by the man's almost allusive smile.
"I thought you're not hungry." Federick pointed out.
"I'm not." Ian answered and walked away.
Although Federick is relaxed by the casually friendly behavior Ian is exhibiting he didn't fail to put his guard to the fullest. Time to time he scan his surroundings. Of his caliber, he can cover the entire mall's area and with few more yards outside the mall's perimeter. He never kept his eyes away from Ian. He can tell from a distance how people behave around his subject. A man in baby blue sleeves and white khaki pants casually talks from his cellphone. A lady conversed to her friend nearby, prattling about home renovations and tidbits of neighborhood gossip. A janitor politely excused behind a group of ladies to empty a bin almost brimming full of garbage. Three teenage boys exchanged ideas about a game called Call of Duty. Everyone was negative of threat, except for a well suited man who happens to be in a phone. This man was particularly suspicious because of the sweat dribbling from his temples, eyes unfocused and his phasing is erratic. He can tell though that this one is just a normal human being. Federick was not the type who jumps into conclusion. Judging is not a tool for instant decisions. Wisely, Federick is trained to deal with unpredictability. Underestimating is also not allowed, because even a normal human can technically kill Ian.
"Negative" He finally absolved. "But I'm not dropping my eye on you mister."
"Did I just hear you talking by yourself?" Ian suddenly broke Federick's momentary weirdness. Of course Federick saw him so his concentration wasn't disoriented but he pretended to act nonchalantly. Ian however was not fooled.
"Sentinel's habit eh?" Ian tried describing, offering Federick a bottle of water.
"Thanks." Federick reached for the water and can't help to notice four large pretzels in Ian's hands. He accusingly shot a glimpse at him, almost gloating.
"I was hungry." Ian admitted, flashing a derpy smile.
When Ian was about to finish his second pretzel his cellphone rang.
"Oh, can you hold this for me?"
Federick obliged and snatched the pretzels out of Ian's hand. Ian licked his fingers and wiped them with tissue. He grabbed his phone inside his jeans and answered the call.
"Hey…what? Well that's…" Ian peered over his wristwatch. "Four hours early. Yeah, we're still here." Ian dropped his phone, tucked it back in his jeans and smiles at Federick.
"You look like you won a prize." Federick muttered after drinking.
"He's done already. Earlier than I expected." Ian can't help hiding his enthusiasm. Soon Federick noticed the familiar cramping of Ian's hand. He was cold.
"Stay for dinner." Ian stated. It wasn't even a question but rather a final statement.
"Since I'm denied any protest why not, right?" Federick prattled with tad bit of mockery. Until he saw Ian rubbing his hands and putting them under his legs that Federick offered his hands. Ian gazed at them for a few seconds, looking doubtful and hesitant. He was ashamed. During Anthony's recovery, Federick didn't actually know too much how to fend off regularly an heir's unusual body coldness. He was a free agent. Only true heirs exhibit such symptoms. It was a curse, yes. Everytime he sees Ian experiencing it he always felt uncomfortable. Not that he felt uncomfortable to make him warm, but the thought of curse coursing through him disturbs him. Death disturbs him. He wondered how Anthony can keep up with such job psychologically and emotionally.
"This is really annoying." Ian sighed, grinning faintly.
Federick returned only with a smile…weak behind, but strong and reassuring for Ian to see.
Anthony appeared, finding it odd for two men seating in a bench located at the center of a mall's atrium holding hands. Federick did expect him. Few seconds before Ian noticed Anthony that Federick shot him a glance. Expectedly, he knew Anthony was focusing on him. Their eyes met. Federick smiled and Ian saw Anthony. He beamed profusely.
"There you are." Ian said, pulling his hands unknowingly from Federick's grip. "I'm not even asking how you traced us. You had this godly sensing skills right?" Ian added sarcastically to which Anthony responded only by rolling his eyes.
"Hey." Anthony greeted Federick who nodded in return. "Shall we? Anthony shot glances back and forth between the two.
"Can I have a special request?" Ian plighted, standing up from his seat and Federick followed.
"What?" Anthony eyed him non-chalantly while Federick remained silent, intently waiting.
"Will you and Federick be in charge of tonight's dinner?"
"Sure." Anthony said flatly.
"Much obliged." Federick replied pointblank after Ian gazed at him.
Anthony knew Ian was always dense. While walking out of the mall's atrium he noticed Ian conveniently placed himself between him and Federick. Ian automatically held Anthony's right hand and by the time Anthony sensed correctly, Ian did the same with Federick's left and Anthony felt a burning sensation flickering instantly inside his chest. He knows what it is and he disliked it.
"How's your arm?" Michael said. Surprisingly his tone didn't have sparseness. He sounded stern but kind. He stood in front of a large window, staring outside the vast lawn, steadying his gaze while uttering such inquiry. Behind him was a man seated in a wooden chair. It was particularly cushioned and shaped in a way to give comfort. The man only sighed. His green eyes shifted from the open space shown by the window to Michael.
"Did he recognize you?" Michael asked. Seconds of silence drifted until Alfred muttered, almost exhausted but the reason behind is lively. His face didn't look gaunt but appeared transcendental. His entire hair turned almost gray. Albeit his eyelids were droopy, a glimpse of his emerald green eyes looked resolved and powerful.
"Pity he's under some spell, but…"
Michael turned, facing the man who dutifully served him from time immemorial.
"He did recognize me." Alfred said under his breath but managed to smile. Michael scoffed almost inaudibly and started walking towards Alfred's side.
"He's practically like your brother." He patted Alfred's shoulder. "Rob might have been proud to see him."
"Rob did see him." Alfred replied knowingly. Michael paused and curved his lips into a faint smile.
