Chapter Twenty-Four:
Toris left us in that bright sunny room with Tatiana. I could hear peaceful classical music that Roderich would've liked playing from unknown places, creating an illusion of peace.
"Remember to stay here until dark," Toris told us, hurrying away before their…meal was finished. Tatiana watched as Toris exited, still looking as unsurprised by it all as ever.
I waited for Toris to be gone before fuming at Francis. "How could they do such a thing to those poor people!" I exclaimed.
"Welcome to what the rest of our kind is like," Francis said drily, sitting down on one of the stylish chairs. I sat down next to him, Feliciano beside me.
"It's inhumane – how could they hunt like this? Do they relish in the screams of those people? Don't they remember what it was like to be human?" I fumed.
"Yes and no. They're very old vampires, Arthur; much older than Roderich, and he's around 4 or 5 hundred. I'm only 100 and something and already my human life is a faded memory – imagine what it must be like for them," Francis answered, looking away. He picked up a stray magazine and flipped through it idly, though I knew he wasn't really paying attention; he was just waiting for night to fall so we could be out of the stupid creepy place once and for all.
"I want to leave," I grumbled, crossing my arms in earnest. I probably looked like a child right about now, but I didn't care.
"We'll be leaving at night, nothing happens to keep us here," Feliciano reassured me, his cheery disposition returning now that we were away from Ivan and his creepy aura.
"The time is 4 in the afternoon," Tatiana offered helpfully. I glanced at her and she gave me a smile. I wondered if she knew what her fate would be, eventually to be killed off and served as food for these monsters after serving them for a decent amount of time.
"What was that Russian word Ivan called Arthur?" Feliciano asked suddenly, staring at Francis curiously.
Francis smiled sardonically. "Vash Pevitsy – blood singer. They call humans with blood like Arthur's to mine Blood Singers because it's like their blood sings for us," he answered. Feliciano's eyes widened.
"Oh," he said in a very small voice. The two of them continued to talk, though of what, I wasn't really sure of. Now that the danger was over, my exhaustion finally hit me. My eyes fluttered to stay open as I heard the gentle murmur of their voices. They were talking much too fast for either Tatiana or me to hear but I could catch certain words in their conversation. I supposed they were discussing stealing a car to get back to the airport.
Though I fought to not look at him, I knew Francis was staring at me the entire time while he was talking to Feliciano. I made him know that I was still furious at him by pulling away whenever he tried to hold my hand or stroke my cheek. I didn't care if I was hurting Francis' feelings though I probably wasn't. The bastard left me to go pursue people without being tied down; I highly doubted he was going to return to me.
Finally, as I was just about to give up trying to stay awake and fall asleep, Lili came walking back into the room, her dress spotless and her eyes still as soulless as ever.
"You may leave now," she said kindly, as though we were best friends and as though her eyes didn't creep me out immensely. "All we ask is that you don't stay in Moscow for longer," she added.
Francis rolled his eyes. "That will not be a problem," he told her coldly. Lili beamed at us.
"Goodbye," she said in a singsong voice as we stood up. I looked up only to see her walking away.
"Just go down that hall to reach the elevators. The elevators will take you to the lobby and it exits into the street. Thank you for visiting," she said in her cheerful voice.
Francis glared at her.
It was a struggle trying to walk down the goddamn hallway and to get back onto the street. Francis shed his coat before leaving, though the stares we received as he walked down with his hairy legs showing wearing nothing but a jacket in the cool Russian night defeated the purpose of him taking off the coat to blend in with the rest of the population.
"Did you honestly have to strip naked?" I muttered under my breath as a woman covered her child's eyes when we passed. I glanced over to my left and noticed Feliciano was no longer there.
"Feliciano's gone to get me some clothes, as well as your things," Francis told me, smiling down at me. If he honestly thought that smiling would make me un-angry, he was completely wrong. I scowled at him.
"I suppose he's gone to steal a car, hasn't he?" I added, realizing we had no way to get to the airport. Feliciano apparently, in a fit of guilt, had returned the car he had originally stolen. Francis laughed.
"Lovino was the one who taught him how to pick car locks," Francis informed me. Honestly, I wasn't quite surprised; Lovino always did seem like the mafia type.
I shuddered slightly as a cool evening breeze blew past us. I don't know why people complain about England's weather; the evening temperature here in Russia was far worse. Francis shot me a concerned look.
"Are you cold?" he asked, wrapping an arm around me. I made a face.
"Yes, because you with your frozen solid arms are going to warm me up, aren't they?" I asked and Francis let go of me immediately. I wasn't sad that he did that, not at all.
There was a flash of light from behind us, casting long shadows ahead of us. Francis grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side just as Feliciano pulled up next to us in a rather old looking car. I walked towards the passenger's seat and climbed in next to Feliciano. Francis gave Feliciano a look and Feliciano moved to the back so Francis could drive. I promptly got out of the shotgun seat and sat next to Feliciano in the back. I heard Francis let out an annoyed sigh.
"Ve, I wish there was a better car to steal," Feliciano said wistfully as Francis drove off, fingering the fading fabric seats.
"If you want, I can get you that car for Christmas," Francis remarked. Feliciano's eyes lit up.
"You would – really?" he asked eagerly, hopping in his seat.
"A Lamborghini Murcielago, right?" Francis asked. It sounded quite expensive, though I wasn't sure by how much. Probably loads though, judging from the name. Feliciano nodded frantically, his head looking like it was going to snap.
My eyes fluttered to stay open and I stifled a yawn, rubbing my eyes in hopes it'd keep me awake. Francis noticed this from the rearview mirror and frowned.
"Sleep," he said, pulling out of the highway and onto the road. I recognized the route; we were almost at the airport.
"I'm not tired," I protested, a yawn betraying me. Francis rolled his eyes and continued to drive.
The airplane trip itself wasn't as tiring. Feliciano decided that it would be fun if he and I watched one of the movies they were playing…and discuss it the entire time. Listening to him talk animatedly managed to keep me awake. Francis, who had been sitting beside me the entire time, stayed quiet, watching Feliciano and I thoughtfully. I wondered what he was thinking, and then told myself firmly that I didn't really care. After all, Francis was just going to drop me off at home and go back to gallivanting around the world with sluts and whores and others of that variety. And I didn't care at all. I hoped that at least Feliciano would stay for a bit longer – I missed having the bubbly Italian with me.
As the plane began its decent in England, I felt my stomach churn nervously. Albert was going to kill me for running off without practically any notice.
The airport was sparse due to the early time and I spotted our welcoming party from a mile away. Elizaveta was still as beautiful as ever as she rushed over to us to give me a bone-crushing hug.
"Oh, Arthur!" she exclaimed, hugging me tightly. "Thank you so much," she whispered into my ear. She let go of me slightly [and I was able to breathe again] and glared at Francis. "You do that again and I'll dent your skull with a frying pan," she growled at Francis. Francis smiled at her good-naturedly.
"I won't," he promised his mother.
"Thank you," Roderich said, shaking my hand and pried his wife off of me.
Meanwhile, Feliciano had run off and was hugging Ludwig tightly, Ludwig whispering something in Feliciano's ear as he rubbed the shorter man's back. I looked away from them; the moment seemed so private, I was starting to feel awkward just watching. Francis took me by the hand [I was too exhausted to realize this or care, really – I wasn't letting him hold my hand intentionally] and led me out of the airport, holding my luggage in his other hand. I stumbled forwards, slapping myself absently to keep me awake.
We walked outside and towards the Paye car, where we saw Antonio and Lovino leaning against it.
The surprise of seeing them jolted me awake.
Francis growled beside me, giving Lovino a glare. I glanced at Lovino and blinked; I think this was the first time I had seen Lovino not glaring.
"Don't," Elizaveta hissed, grabbing Francis by the arm. "He feels like shit."
"He should," Francis said loudly, staring intently at Lovino.
"He wants to apologize," Elizaveta insisted.
"I don't accept," Francis replied coldly.
"Let him apologize," I said, feeling a flicker of annoyance. If Lovino of all people wanted to apologize, that must really mean he meant it. Francis sighed and pulled me towards the other couple, Elizaveta rejoining Roderich, Ludwig and Feliciano at their car.
"Hola, Arthur," Antonio greeted me cheerfully, glancing at Francis quickly before turning back to me. Lovino and Francis stared at each other.
"Hello," I replied, feeling nervous. I could suddenly feel the tension from Francis and it felt like there was going to be a fight very soon. Evidently Antonio felt the same way; he inconspicuously put an arm around Lovino's waist, as if to stop him from lunging. Oddly enough, Lovino didn't swat the arm away the way he normally would.
"Francis," Lovino began hesitantly.
"Yes?" Francis asked expectantly.
"I'm…" Lovino took a deep breath in. He glanced at me quickly before looking at Francis again. "I'm sorry."
"I know," Francis replied coldly.
There was a silence.
"…Arthur?" Lovino said finally…to me. I stared at him in shock. I do believe that that was the very first time Lovino had addressed me and had even said my name instead of 'that human'.
"Yes?" I asked, warily.
"…" Lovino glanced at Antonio. Antonio gave him a look. Lovino sighed. "I'm…sorry, okay? I didn't mean to…you know. I'm an asshole, I know-"
"You are," Francis agreed and Lovino glared at him.
"But I'm sorry," Lovino continued. "And I guess…thanks for saving Francis." Antonio nudged him. "What?" Lovino demanded. "Oh right. Forgive me?" he asked, looking away from me in his embarrassment.
"Y-yes," I stuttered, feeling just as embarrassed as Lovino looked. My cheeks heated up. I wasn't good at apologizing or forgiving people. "It's not your fault – I fell off the bloody cliff, not you," I muttered. "You're forgiven."
Antonio laughed. "It doesn't count until he's actually conscious," he teased and Lovino glared at him, finally ripping the Spaniard's arm away from his waist.
"I'm conscious," I snapped, my face turning red as I realized my words were slurred together.
Francis opened the door to the backseat of the car and pushed me in. He climbed in after me. "Sleep," he said gently, as Antonio and Lovino got into the car and Antonio started the engine. Too tired to resist anything anymore, I let myself rest against Francis and let sleep take over me.
I was semi-conscious went the gentle vibrating of the car finally stopped. I heard a door open and faintly felt Francis put his cold arms around me and pick me up. I wondered if we were at my house.
And then I heard Albert and I knew we were.
"Arthur!" I heard him yelling. There were loud footsteps and it sounded like he was running towards us.
"Dad?" I mumbled. Francis shushed me and began walking forwards.
"You have a lot of nerve, coming back here after what you did to my son," Albert growled, his voice closer to us now.
"Dad, calm down," I tried to say.
"What's wrong with him? What have you done to my son?" Albert demanded angrily.
"He's just really tired," Francis protested. "Let him sleep."
"Get your hands off of him!" Albert replied.
"Dad, calm down," I said, louder this time. I finally opened my eyes to look into my dad's furious green eyes. We were in the front yard and the front door was wide open.
"Get inside," Albert growled. I had never seen my father this angry before. I was starting to get kind of scared.
"I'll put Arthur to bed and then leave," Francis promised. "He's too tired to walk by himself." He didn't bother waiting for Albert's reply, already walking into my house. Exhaustion got the better of me, and despite my futile attempts, sleep claimed me again.
The last thing I remembered was Francis setting me down on my bed and his lips brushing against my forehead.
A/N: Arthur's in a lot of shit, isn't he? Anyways, I'm done my exams so yay, I have time to write! Any long periods of time sans updates from now on are thanks to me being incredibly lazy.
Thanks to everyone who replied back last chapter with who Aleksandar is~! As most of you guessed, Aleksandar is indeed Bulgaria 8D
Review? There are only two more chapters and an epilogue left~!