I hope nobody has forgotten our little story! I'm sorry I made all of you wait; my father just passed away and I had not been in the mood to write a happy tale. Now that things have settled, let's strap ourselves in and go!
A mild fog crawled over the dirt paths of Northern England, noting the humidity that had found the county overnight. Darkness hung dull like a flat curtain. It was rather late, but time has no meaning to a man that never sleeps. Sir Guy of Gisborne was on the threshold of his breaking point in regards to pain. Crevices lined the flesh of his back from Vesey's punishment and, though hours passed, the wounds were resistant to sealing up with a blanket of scar tissue and scabs. Pounding through Nettlestone was of no aid to the effort, either.
He had departed his property in Locksley in the dead of night to slam his stallion awake and go to the one place his soul would not release from its grasp: Kirkslee's Orphanage. The limbo that hung around him had to fall victim to gravity and settle again; he needed to make amends with April. Marian, it seemed, was not filling the void of love in his life. Lately she was only highlighting the hollow pit in his ribs where a heart of passion should lie. This night's insomnia sprung the birth of realization that Marian of Knighton was no more than a trophy at this point in their mangled and deformed relationship. Guy found no well of trust to draw from when it came to his longtime crush; he was in fact utterly apathetic to her. Gisborne liked to think that this unconscious numbing only proved that he was smarter than previously assumed. His body knew how to handle the situation, so he abided by its urges. On this particular evening it was magnetized to the orphanage and away from any thought of Marian, whose lips, regretfully, had awoken him this past morning. He no longer struggled to move on. Rather, he wrestled to accept that he had left her and found better opportunity.
The faithful horse replied to his master's command and pulled to a halt before the wooden fence of Kirkslee's Abbey. After a decade of their unspoken bond that Gisborne would never admit to, the animal could tell he was in pain, and a hell of a lot of it. Guy demounted with the dexterity of a crippled old dog that had only a few days remaining on this plane of existence. The steed whinnied and shook its head as Guy glanced over the beast's reflective and knowing eyes. It took only a second for him to shut off the period of tenderness and get back to the objective; April. He proceeded along the winding gravel path to the rear corner where the children were housed. His feet ignored the curves and took the most direct route across pockets of grass then back to the stone; Gisborne was not a man who wasted pieces of his life for social courtesy. Once the orphanage cottage was in view he could tell there was a glowing light in the front hall. She must still be awake. His mind gave approval to wave over the hope that she had remained out of bed grieving the loss of their love, clenching her breast in agony, and craving nothing more than him. Gisborne's jaw stiffened as he recognized the improbability of this selfish dream. A wooden porch slipped beneath him as he rapped the door, oblivious until it was too late that a quiet approach would keep the unwanted kids asleep. Guy heard the leather of his glove creak as he clenched a fist to knock more appropriately a second time but he lost his chance. The entryway spread open just enough for the slim brunette of his desires to creep a head through and give a blank stare.
"Can I help you?" April calmly asked, little interest present. What was there was most likely a feigned act.
"You're up late, I hope this evening finds you well," he started politely but was pushed to continue after silence solidified between the pair, "What keeps you awake?"
"It isn't any business of yours." She gave back quietly as the door began to squeal closed.
"I would like it to be," Guy hurriedly slapped his palm to the wood to hold the door open with raw desperation, no anger shown, "I would like for a lot of things to be my business and, in turn, have a lot of my things become your business." April mulled over his verbal nudge and chewed the inside of her cheek before taking her slender hands off the door. The man in black pressed it open a few more inches but didn't force his way inside.
"One of the children became sick in the night." She admitted to his masked glee. Gisborne could sense the ice over her jaded heart begin to crackle.
"Is it bad?"
"It doesn't affect you, I can't imagine you are interested." April jabbed into his ribs with force, momentarily stealing his breath as he cocked his head to the side and blinked repeatedly; they both acknowledged that he deserved it. The burst of aggression receded and dissolved into stillness.
"I am interested in everything there is to do with you." Guy nakedly tossed out. His sentence covered a mental and physical meaning that April received, but he did not feel he crossed the line. Now was a time for honesty. She used her toes to open the door all the way and invite the man inside. No answer came to his words. Gisborne eyed at a half empty and rickety bucket that held filthy water and a block of lard soap next to a damp wall but said nothing. He put together that April was up in the early morning cleaning the house for the youth as opposed to taking her own rest, but in this fragile time he refused to point out her lie. April had led them to a cozy room in the corner with more mature literature and legible notes; it was clearly the territory of older tenants. Guy removed the shell of his jacket as they sat catty corner to each other and both watched her hands as she went to folding laundry that lie as a wad in a chair.
"April, I came to ask… I came to beg your forgiveness for what I have done," the baritone ring helped to hide some of the weakness, "I have made a huge mistake. You have taught me so much you make me want to chang-"
"Do you love her?"
"Beg pardon?"
"That woman… Do you love her?" She froze and stared into his ice colored gaze, not wavering. Guy licked his lips and watched the floor; he did not offer an answer from his sleeve, but rather waited for his gut to kick up the honest reply that shocked him.
"No, April. No I do not." Gisborne was proud of himself but crumbled at her smirk of disbelief.
"You didn't even look at me, Sir Guy. I don't think you are telling me the truth." She hardly stated, being sure to insert his formal title so he would not think they were comfortable as before.
"I want to be sure before I say anything. I cannot afford to hurt you again." He murmured with mild regret at all he was exposing. He may as well have shown up with no clothes at this rate. Guy saw her chew this idea while going back to the tiny dresses. Gisborne stretched across her lap and brought back a cluster of trousers to fold, hoping to show her that he was trying his very hardest to come back. He did not, however, consider the work that the muscles in his back were being instructed to do. The wincing was packaged and kept as an interior decoration of anguish. April glanced up to tuck away the completed foldings and only then noticed the moisture on her former beaus shoulder. A few beats hit before she could make out that it was, in fact, blood growing on the fabric.
"Guy!" she whelped, rushing to get behind him and assess the damage; it was horrific. The tracks of the scourging were making themselves known with a whiny bleed that nearly traumatized the orphanage manager. April tore the shirt up and hoisted it to rest atop his shoulders as she charged for a wet cloth. Coming back, she pressed firmly into the center of the wounds and triggered a howl from the invincible Gisborne. She apologized profusely whilst wiping dried plasma from the rims of the injuries and after a minute relieved the seeping. April discarded the towel and stayed behind him, hands rested on his biceps, awing at the marks. Guy said nothing besides a heavy sigh to suppress the pain. "What on earth…"
"It's nothing." He assured her.
"What happened? It looks like… Oh Lord in heaven," she gasped, "Is this what happened to you for letting me go? Is this what they did for freeing me?"
"There is no need to worry, April."
"Guy… you took this for me?" She peered around to see his face, but he glanced away. Pride stood tall in this heavy realization. She now had tangible evidence for his emotion; who else in her life would have accepted a lashing in her name? And now he expected nothing from it. Gisborne did not even mention it. April laid her cheek on his shoulder and set her nose to his warm neck, taking in the smell and feel of the man she cared so much for. He put his right hand back and rested it on the back of her head, absorbing the sleekness of her soft hair through his fingerprints, soaking into a peaceful calm. All of the tension and taught air settled as the couple closed their eyes and relaxed in each other's presence.
April felt herself twitching in and out of consciousness, regularly slipping off of her perch and about to fall to the floor in sleep. Guy had a soft chuckle and patted her head before reaching down for her hand. He brought his crush around and sat her on his lap, holding her waist while easing her upper body to lie on his chest. Gisborne kissed her forehead and held her close as they both slipped into a world of dreams for the night.
