CHAPTER 56: WAYS OF A WOLF
ME: *runs by screaming* Here's the second part of the last chapter, which was originally one chapter!
BRICK: *chases* GET BACK HERE KUKU!
ME: Uhh so Brick's pissed off so uhh uhhh... *glances around* Buttercup! You there, do the disclaimer!
BUTTERCUP: *sweat-drop* So, err...Kuku only owns the story and her own OC's, not including me—
ME & BRICK: *runs/chases past while screaming/yelling*
BUTTERCUP: —And I guess I'm glad that's the case... *double sweat-drop*
BLASTER: Please read on and leave a review! *cute smile*
Chapter 56: Ways of a Wolf
"Vix...? Viiiiiiix!"
Christie sighed and folded her arms, stopping in her walking and calling. She furrowed her brow. "Now where did he go?"
A door opened and Ross stepped outside, carrying a black messenger back. "I'm heading out now!" he called.
"Ah, Ross! Where are you going?" Christie asked, bounding toward him.
He jumped, startled. "I'm just going out grocery shopping. Uncle Danes gave me a list of things to buy." He gazed at her outfit. "I'm still amazed by how you can run in those."
Christie was wearing high-heeled, silver-white knee-high boots that were laced all the way up. It was paired with a long, flowy milky-white dress and a baggy yellow jacket on top. The dress skirt went to her knees in the front, but was a lot longer in the back. A small pale-white scarf was wrapped around her neck and she wore a small black beret. Her long blond hair was in a low ponytail.
"Can't you just send a maid or butler on their merry way?" Christie smiled, already knowing the answer as she pushed the door open.
"We don't treat them like servants," Ross replied automatically, as if he were a recording. He'd explained this many times already. And yet, even now, it was like he meant it. He walked out and opened his umbrella, which was designed to look like a cute frog head. "We treat them like employees and friends and family."
"I know," she laughed, knocking him lightly on the head with her knuckles.
"Then you shouldn't have asked," he huffed, looking embarrassed as he gently pushed her hand away. He led the way and she followed, underneath his umbrella.
She smiled. He looks so cute, dressed in that too-large brown coat and green scarf and adorable green boots. That umbrella doesn't help either. "You're so sweet, Ross."
He blushed. "Wh-What?"
"Well, you treat everyone with such kindness." Christie smiled, turning away to kick at a small pebble in the backyard.
"Thank you," Ross mumbled.
"You know, I should be the one thanking you," she replied.
"Why?" he asked, looking flustered again.
Christie just smiled broader than before. "Thanks for taking care of Michael, Ross. I know he's kind of annoying and bratty and demanding and spoiled, but..." Now her smile disappeared and she looked down at the ground. "...He's still my...baby brother..."
Ross' eyes widened in shocked concern. "Oh no, Christie...! Ah, w-wait! Don't cry!"
Her shoulders were trembling and tears were dripping from her face onto the pathway beneath their feet. She had her eyes squeezed shut as she cried. "I-I miss him... I miss him s-so much... Wh-Why did it have to be him? Why Michael...? Ross, I don't know what to do... I miss him so and yet, I-I can't even help him..." She let out a distressed wail. "I feel so useless!"
"Christie, no...! That's not... That's not true," Ross murmured, reaching out to place an arm around her shoulders and to wipe her tears. He had a hard time keeping back his own tears and was choking out words with difficulty. "You aren't useless."
"I wish it were me that had been shot," she whispered miserably.
"No, don't say that...! We need you here. You're a strong commander, Christie. And...Michael would hate to see you like this."
His words made her burst into even more tears, causing her to collapse on the ground. Ross comforted her, shushing and rocking her as he cried too.
Above them, Vix watched with a sad gaze. He looked away.
For awhile the two teenagers just cried, before Christie managed to recover and stand up. "Come on, Ross. Let's go grocery shopping." She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Y-You were right. Michael wouldn't want to see us this way."
"...Yeah..." Ross sniffled too, rubbing his eyes as he got up. He managed to smile. "He'd probably yell at us to get a grip."
"Yeah." Christie smiled too, sniffling one last time before grabbing Ross' hand. "Let's go!"
The rain had finally cleared up, leaving behind puddles and clouds and most of all, a magnificent rainbow that arched across the pale blue sky. Christie and Ross danced around, splashing in puddles and laughing and talking, all the while underneath Ross' froggy umbrella.
Nearby, someone followed at a distance in the shadows. This person was Vix.
When the two teens reached the grocery store, they decided to split up. Christie got one half of the list and Ross the other. They were to meet each other at the front in an hour, before heading back home together. Each person had 10 things to buy.
Vix hesitated only for a moment before going to follow Christie.
She was browsing the tomatoes, trying to find the best one when she bumped into someone familiar. Literally.
"Ouch!" she exclaimed, dropping a tomato.
"Oops, let me help you with that. Sorry," a soft male's voice sounded as the person she'd bumped into bent down and picked up the tomato. He looked it over. "It's not damaged or bruised or anything. In fact, it looks pretty good. Here you go." He looked up to hand it to her, and almost immediately his mouth fell open.
The tomato dropped back to the ground, forgotten.
This was because Christie's mouth had fallen open in shock too. She blinked wildly. "B-Blaster?" she spluttered.
"H-Hi, Christie," he stammered back, yellow eyes stretched wide. "Wasn't expecting to see you here."
"I could say the same about you," she managed to say. "Although I guess we shouldn't be so shocked. It's just a grocery store."
"Y-Yeah," he agreed.
She glanced at him. Except it's the one where we bumped into each other and had a heart-to-heart conversation.** He caught her eye and they both blushed, quickly looking away.
"I-I see you're still wearing my jacket," he finally commented.
"W-Well, you gave it to me. I could always give it back if you'd like—"
"No, it suits you." He turned to her and smiled warmly in his adorable, sweet way. "You look cute in it."
She stared at him in surprise for a long while, before her face turned bright pink and she dropped her gaze to the floor. "O-Oh! It seems we've forgotten about that r-really good tomato," she exclaimed, spotting it on the ground.
"I-It seems so!" he agreed awkwardly, seemingly having just realized how awkward his words had been.
She bent down to pick it up. "It's still good," she said, putting it into her cart.
"That's good to hear," he replied.
Then they just stood in awkward silence for awhile.
Finally, Blaster attempted to make conversation as he scrabbled for a tomato, his eyes never leaving hers. "So! Uhh...have you been good too?"
"Yes! I've been g—I mean, I've been just terrific!" She'd been trying to find another word for "good", since "good" was so repetitive and unnatural. But then she did a face-palm. "Terrific" was just as unnatural, if not more so. "Good" may have been generic and unnatural, but "terrific" was just unusual and unnatural.
"Christie... Are you okay?" Blaster's tone surprised her, but when she looked up, his expression surprised her even more. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were filled with genuine concern. "Do you feel sick?"
"No, I—" Christie cut herself off. She actually did feel kind of nauseous. She grabbed the tomato bin. "Actually, I do feel kind of unwell. Blaster... I-I should probably go now..." She tried to walk away, but immediately stumbled and fell as soon as she let go of the bin's ledge.
"Christie!" she heard Blaster cry out before everything became black.
For awhile there was nothing.
And then...noise.
At first it was a soft humming noise, with a sweet melody. Then the other noises came: louder, more obnoxious. Chirping birds. Chattering humans. Rumbling cars. Honking cars. The beeping of lights.
Christie became aware of the blackness that she was seeing and fluttered her eyelids to try and see colour. Almost immediately, the sunlight glared back at her and she flinched.
The melodic humming broke off as someone caught her. "Christie! Are you okay?"
She opened her eyes again and this time she could see someone's face. Blaster. The name registered in her mind before the meaning did. For a second the two of them just blinked at one another. Then Christie let out a startled cry of realization, jumped up, and scooted away.
Blaster stared at her, his own cheeks flushed red. Christie couldn't meet his gaze. My head. Was on his lap. MY HEAD WAS ON HIS LAP! Her heart was pounding.
"Christie... A-Are you okay? I'm sorry to startle you and everything, but I was really worried about you fainted like that," Blaster tittered.
She blinked. "Fainted...?" she echoed.
He nodded. "You fell at the tomato stand, remember? You were probably too stressed with worry and overworked yourself."
Christie remembered. She looked around. They were sitting on a wooden bench just outside the grocery store. The road was behind them, and people were watching and whispering. She blushed. "They're all looking at us."
"I know." Blaster didn't bother looking up; he was already blushing. "People kept stopping to ask about my 'girlfriend''s well-being," he explained awkwardly.
Christie stared at him for a long time, before she smiled. Then she began giggling. And finally she began laughing.
"Christie...?" He looked up in surprise.
"We're being silly," she finally said, smiling. "Why are we so embarrassed? We've talked to each other enough to act friendly around one another. So what's with this sudden awkwardness? They don't know we're not dating, but it shouldn't matter. We know."
Blaster blinked, before smiling. "You're right," he agreed.
"Of course I'm right." She closed her eyes and dipped her head graciously, a smile playing at her lips. Then she scooted back beside him. "Well, that was an embarrassing conversation we had back inside the store. I can't believe we couldn't even talk to each other normally," she giggled.
He chuckled back in agreement. "You're right. That was silly of us."
Christie smiled, before falling silent for awhile. "Hey, Blaster...?" she finally said.
"Yes...?"
"Do you..." She hesitated. "Do you ever feel useless?"
He stiffened against her. When he replied, his voice was stiff too. "Where did this come from?"
"Just asking." She stared at the ground.
"Plenty of times," he finally confirmed. "Why?" His tone was guarded.
"Because I...I feel really worthless right now. Michael's still not awake, and there's nothing I can do to save him. I'm just so useless," she explained sadly.
"Christie... That's not true."
"Yes, it is! I'm useless as a soldier. I even need a bodyguard. And even then, I was still captured by Damon!" she cried in protest.
"But Danes only gave you a bodyguard because he was worried about his only kin left awake. I'm sure if—when—Michael wakes up, Danes is getting him a bodyguard too," Blaster argued.
"So then what about my inability to not be a damsel-in-distress?" she challenged back.
"That wasn't your fault." He sounded exasperated. "Sometimes girls end up being damsels-in-distresses and it's okay. You don't always need to be super feminist about your ability to protect yourself just because you're trying to be a 'hardworking, strong woman'. Just like how a man can be captured too. Sometimes some people are just stronger than you, and the situation's beyond your control. Both genders can be defenseless. Both genders can mess up. Humans mess up. So stop being so hard on yourself about all of this."
Christie was quiet for awhile. Then: "Thank you, Blaster."
He relaxed, managing a smile. "You're welcome. Sorry I got so tense there. I hate it when girls berate themselves for failing to protect themselves just because it's modern day and all women are expected to be strong. Of course women are strong, but if you end up being damsel-in-distress, that's okay. There's nothing wrong with that. Males face that too. It's not a gender thing, it's a power thing. A human thing.
"Besides, Christie. You're amazing. You've always been amazing. You're smart and sharp-tongued and speedy and strong... And do you have any idea how pretty you are too? You could be a model! But what's most important about you is how strong you've always been. You've shouldered a lot of weight, Christie—responsibilities, abilities, and now loneliness. I understand what that's like, but I admire you a lot for your ability to survive it all. You work so hard everyday, and it's sort of inspiring. You empower those around you, Christie. You empower yourself."
"You really think so?" Christie blushed. "You honestly think all that about me?"
"I know so," he finished.
"Thank you. I really appreciate it." She leaned in closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. "You've been really kind."
He blushed, fidgeting awkwardly. "I guess both of us have a lot on our plates right now. I just understand, that's all."
She was quiet for a moment. "But that's why I like you."
Blaster blinked in surprise, glancing down at her face. It was pink, but her eyes were closed and she was smiling, so it didn't give much away. "What...?"
"That's why I like you," she repeated. "You're amazing too. You're so sweet and kind and optimistic and protective and caring... I can't even imagine being your level of sweet. It's just so bright and welcoming. You warm up all those around you, including me. Even though you're the enemy, I respect you. Like you, even. I hate Damon and may not care very much for the Rowdyruff Boys, but you've changed my views just a little—because I can't bring myself to hate you."
"Thank you." He smiled. "You're very kind yourself, Christie. And that's why I like you."
For awhile they just sat in comfortable silence. Then Christie spoke up again: "Blaster...?"
"Hmm...?"
"How much time has it been since I first saw you?"
He checked his watch. "Thirty minutes. You've been out for twenty."
She gasped, jumping up. "Oh no! I still need to finish my grocery shopping. All I got were these lousy tomatoes." She glanced at the two shopping bags beside them. "Wait... Don't tell me... Blaster! You shouldn't have!"
He grinned. "I was wondering when you'd notice."
"I can't believe you! You didn't have to pay for my items for me! Argh, you stupid kind Rowdyruff Boy! Now I'll have to pay you back!" Christie looked flustered, but happy nonetheless, which made Blaster feel warm and fuzzy inside.
"It's fine. Don't pay me back. Two tomatoes aren't worth all that much anyway," he laughed.
"It's not just that! There's a lot I need I repay you for," Christie grumbled, her cheeks flushed a lively pink. Despite her frown, her eyes sparkled.
Blaster smiled. "I don't need repayment."
"Stupid Ruff. Of course you'd say that." She rolled her eyes, but now she was smiling.
"Come on. Let's go finish your shopping list. I'll help, since I'm already done mine," Blaster called.
"Fine, but only because you're finished your list!" she exclaimed. As they headed back into the store, Christie started, grinning. "I got it!"
"Got what?" Blaster asked, pausing in the doorway.
"I know how I'm going to repay you! I'm going to make you a new jacket. A better jacket, since I have your old one. I know a thing or two about sewing, and I know you like to sew. So you better appreciate a homemade gift!"
"Oh come on, I have a ton of jackets," Blaster chuckled. And yet, his heart skipped a beat with eager anticipation at the idea.
Christie punched him lightly. "Oh, don't be like that. Just let me repay you the best way I can. I promise you this is going to be an awesome jacket." She smiled proudly. "I know quite a bit about sewing."
"Oh?" Blaster raised an eyebrow. "Well, let's see you put your money where your mouth is."
"You bet your ass I will!" she laughed.
He grinned back and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Well, let's get to that shopping now."
"Right." She paused for a second, smiling mischievously before standing on her tiptoes and giving him a peck on the cheek.
Blaster's eyes widened and his face turned bright red, just like the tomatoes she was carrying. "What was that for!?" he demanded.
"Repayment~!" she sang back, before winking with her tongue sticking out. "Just kidding~!"
"Jeez, Christie! Can you not?" he huffed, following her further into the store. Despite this, he was smiling and he felt warm inside. And so did Christie, although the two of them didn't know the other's feelings...yet.
Meanwhile, back outside, someone was standing at the bench they'd originally been sitting on.
Vix.
And he wasn't happy.
"Are you mad at him?" He worded the question simply, his voice low and still as he leaned in closer for a kiss and his lips brushed against her ear.
She suppressed a shiver, biting her own lip. She didn't respond immediately, mostly because she couldn't.
He paused at the lack of a reaction. "I hate seeing you like this, Bunny. It worries me."
She squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm sorry, Darkai—but I can't help but be upset. I can't believe Bandit—he's such a jerk!"
Darkai didn't say anything for awhile. When he did, his tone was still low as he pulled her closer into him. "Forget about him; just for now. You're here with me, Bunny, and I hate to see you so upset."
Bunny furrowed her brow, eyes cast down on the blanket as she stretched her arms out to hug Darkai. "I'll try," she promised in a mumble.
"Trying is all I can really ask for," he responded, tilting his head upwards to give her a peck on the forehead.
"But thank you, Darkai. Your presence really does help me feel better," she murmured, squeezing tight.
He paused, before smiling. He lowered his head so that his nose was buried in her soft brown hair. "And yours makes me feel better," he promised. "Now rest, my little angel; you've been busy all day. Thank you for healing my wounds, but it's time for you to take a break. I promise that all your worries will be gone when you come to."
Bunny listened and closed her eyes, letting out a soft breath as Darkai leaned in close. Their lips met, and they shared a long, tender kiss. When they broke apart, she smiled.
"It's good to see you smiling again." He gave her one quick, last kiss before setting her down.
She nodded, still curled in his arms. Bunny let out a small yawn before her consciousness blurred away until at last, Darkai's cold warmth was the only thing she was aware of...
Birds chirping signalled to Bunny that it was time to awaken. Opening her eyes, she blinked rapidly and stared up at the dark, empty ceiling. She felt like something was missing. Something cold. And warm.
...Darkai.
She turned her head just slightly. He was gone. The space where he'd been still had a small dent in the mattress, but his warmth was fading.
Sighing, Bunny sat up and yawned. I can't believe I fell asleep, she mused, still feeling a little dazed. When she shifted her head, she winced at a small pain at the nape of her neck. I must've been sleeping on it at a weird angle, she thought to herself with a sigh, rubbing her hand up and down her sore neck.
Light was streaming in from the window, blocked from entrance of the room by the blinds. Bunny reached upwards and pulled the blinds up so that the light could filter in. She gazed at the blue sky for a long, long time. It's so nice out today, she thought. That's when she realized with a start that Darkai had been right: "When you come to, your worries will be gone".
This made Bunny smile.
As she was about to jump off of the infirmary bed, she noticed something happening outside. Her eyes widened as she saw a woman and a man facing another man. Someone else lay at their feet, and there was another person near the first man's feet too. Before her brain could register their appearances or even how many there were, a giant explosion sounded.
First there was a rumbling.
Then there was a BOOM!
And finally, smoke.
Bunny could see two green streaks of light flying into the smoke. "Butch; Buttercup!" she gasped, quickly jumping down from the infirmary bed and running for it. She blasted into the air, leaving a purple streak behind.
Just what is going on!? Bunny had a lot of unanswered questions racing through her head. She skidded to a stop at the courtyard doors and burst out, stopping only when she saw her sisters. "What happened!?" she demanded breathlessly.
"Someone attacked someone else here at the school. It's some kind of fight," Blossom explained, looking concerned.
"Much bigger than my fight with DJ, at least," Braker agreed.
"Focus, you guys! We need to help our friends," called Blossom.
They all nodded determinedly and followed the pink leader towards the field, stopping only when they got too close to the engulfing smoke.
"Now what?" demanded Braker, coughing into his arm as he squinted into the grayness.
"We'll have to wait," Blossom said, sounding just as desperate to go in as the rest of them felt.
Bunny's brow was furrowed, and her eyes were wide from fear and worry. She could feel her heart pounding. What's going on? Where are Butch and Buttercup? Are they okay?
Who were those people on the field?
"Bunny, are you okay?" Blossom asked, looking concerned. "I'm sure things will be okay."
Bunny opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, a purple streak landed beside her. She froze. It was Bandit, the last person she wanted to talk to at the moment. She turned her head away bitterly, trying to ignore the stinging guilt in her chest.
He glanced at her just once before spinning around to address Blossom. "Keep everyone rallied; please! We can't be separated. Brick and I are going in."
Blossom nodded and Bandit looked back only once before blasting off. Bunny wasn't even sure he was looking at her. Despite the dangers, she felt the sting of being ignored. Does he not care about what happened between us at all? She swallowed hard. No, Bunny—you have to forget about him. He doesn't matter to you anymore. There are bigger problems to face right now. She felt the determination, but the idea of never speaking to Bandit again was enough to bring tears to her eyes.
Darkai... Where are you now? She squeezed her eyes shut and let the tears fall briefly. She wanted to calm down before composing herself for the situation at hand. I need you... Please give me comfort.
"You feeling okay?" asked Shamus, his brow furrowed in concern.
Damon started, glancing up in surprise at his friend. He was silent for a brief second before letting out a weak, huffy smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." His arms were crossed over his chest, and he squeezed a little harder as he remembered what his chest carried now: a broken heart. He sighed. I'm sorry, Shamus. You'll be the same as me soon enough.
"Alright, if you say so." Shamus looked unconvinced, but he didn't push further. Instead he leaned back and began talking to Danes—which wasn't much of a conversation, considering Danes' flat tone and personality.
Damon sighed again and turned his head away so that he could stare out the diner window. Sylvie and Tyrone sure are taking awhile, he thought miserably, his heart clenching.
A few more moments of quiet talk passed, all while Damon stared out the window and said nothing, before Sylvie and Tyrone finally reappeared.
"Hi, everyone."
It was Sylvie's gentle voice that spoke first, and Shamus brightened almost immediately. "Sylvie; Ty...!" He jumped up.
Damon waited for the inevitable.
And it came. Shamus' excitement faded as he saw the two's hands, which were intertwined. "Guys...? I know you're like siblings, but..." He trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.
"But you're holding hands like a couple," Damon finished for him. He forced himself to smile, and it came out feeble and wobbly, which he hated. "I can guess what happened. Congratulations."
Sylvie smiled apologetically and Tyrone looked away. The guilt was clearly written across his face and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Shamus took a step back. "No..." he whispered.
"I'm sorry, Shamus." Tyrone turned to face his brother. "I love Sylvie."
"And I love Tyrone," she admitted. "I'm sorry too. I-I know you have feelings for me, b-but I need to follow my own heart."
For awhile nothing happened and Shamus' brown eyes were wide. He turned to Damon, who shrugged pitifully as if to say "what can you do?" He offered a smile as comfort. He pitied Shamus. We're the same, he thought. So very similar. I'm sorry it had to be this way, Shamus. You didn't deserve this. Neither did I. But the other man seemed to recover faster than Damon ever had.
Shamus composed himself and smiled, brown eyes sparkling as he said, "Congratulations, you two. I'm happy for you. Really, I am."
This shocked Damon.
Shamus turned to the gaping man. "Right, Damon? As long as they're happy, then this is fine."
"Y-Yeah." Damon managed to regain his composure, pulling up the happy and non-jealous act he'd rehearsed one time too many. He didn't want to be outdone by Shamus. "And if anyone deserves Sylvie, it'd be Tyrone." The words stung before they even left his lips. "You're perfect for each other," he choked out.
Tyrone's relief was instant, and tears sprang to his eyes as he leapt forward and hugged his brother and best friend. "Aww, you guys! Thank you thank you thank you! I'm so sorry about all of this! I never thought... I never thought I'd fall for Sylvie, but here I am now..." He'd relaxed, but his drooped shoulders were shaking and tears still slid down his face.
"Tyrone! Honestly, stop being so childish!" chided Shamus, pushing his brother away. "You're embarrassing me."
"I can't help it! I'm just so...so happy!" Tyrone lifted his glasses and wiped his eyes. "I'm so happy neither of you hate me."
Damon felt the words as if they were a blow, and once more he forced himself to smile. "Well, you have my blessing," he promised. He wasn't telling the whole truth.
"And mine," Shamus agreed. He turned to Damon. "Thanks for that, man. If it weren't for you, I'd be a wreck right now. But you got over that so amazingly well—and I know how much you loved Sylvie. You inspired me."
"So... You're not...jealous?" Damon asked in surprise.
"Well, I still am jealous, but I will support them no matter what. Just like you will; I'm sure of it. Right, Damon? You're just that kind of man," Shamus chuckled. "You and Ty aren't blood brothers, but you two support each other like you are."
Determined to live up to Shamus' view of him, Damon smiled. "Aww, thank you, Shamus. And of course, I'll always support you two as well, Tyrone. Take good care of Sylvie for me." He reached his hand out.
Tyrone smiled tearfully but excitedly, taking the hand and shaking it proudly. Damon smiled back in a milder manner. He saw a flash of red and claws as their hands shook, but he quickly brushed the horrifying vision off as he let go of Tyrone's hand.
Tyrone spotted something jangling against Damon's collarbone. "Ah! It's the pendant Sylvie and I made you."
"Oh, this...? Yeah," Damon agreed, flushing red as he tucked it back into his shirt. "I really like it."
"Wow, you wear it everyday? That's amazing, Damon! Thanks."
I like to think of it as just from Sylvie, he thought with a sigh, before saying, "I'll treasure this pendant for the rest of my life. I swear it!"
Then they all laughed and began chatting like normal, all the while with Tyrone and Sylvie holding hands. Damon watched with growing jealousy, gripping the pendant at his chest to calm down.
I'll treasure this memory of love and heartbreak for the rest of my life...
He looked down, eyes half-lidded as he squeezed the pendant and bit his lip.
I promise.
A few years passed, and Damon did continue to cherish the present. He would hold the glittering pendant up and admire it, giddy with joy. But soon his pleasure turned into something more sour.
After his birthday, his attempts to get closer with Sylvie were met with little to no success. Soon she seemed to have completely forgotten about him, having set her eyes on someone else.
He could live with that. It was the who that someone else was Damon wasn't quite prepared for.
She'd fallen for Tyrone, and soon he for her.
Of course Sylvie could win anyone over, thought Damon, eyeing the pendant with a bittersweet feeling in his heart. A soft, pearly white piece of paper sat on the desk before him, and he sighed as he tore his gaze away from his treasured pendant. He stared at the paper, reading the words over and over again, trying to figure out if they were real or not. It was like a puzzle he couldn't solve, with him dissecting and attempting to decipher every single word.
"'You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of Sylvie Elizabeth Johnson and Tyrone Cade Patterson on Saturday afternoon on July 2nd at 6:00 pm in the evening, followed by a reception.'"
It was already July 2nd, the day of their wedding. The time read 5:30 pm. The wedding would start in a half hour. He could hear Tyrone and their friends in the other room, laughing. Damon felt his heart tighten briefly as he continued to sit there, staring at the invitation and his pendant, trying to imagine Sylvie walking down the aisle in a beautiful wedding dress—towards a man besides himself.
Damon groaned out in utter defeat as he let his head fall to the table. He'd confessed to Sylvie once upon a time, but she had turned him down. That hadn't stopped him from trying to win her over, but apparently Tyrone's confession had won her over when Damon couldn't. The idea hurt almost as much as the wedding and invitation did.
There was a knock on his door and he called, "Come in."
The door creaked open and Tyrone peeked inside, all dressed up in his smartly tailored suit. Damon felt the choking sensation of jealousy grip him once more, but he managed to smother it. Tyrone grinned when he spotted him, and stepped inside with arms spread wide. "How's my best man?"
"Fine, thanks. How are you, Mr. Groom?" replied Damon, accepting the brotherly hug.
Tyrone was radiating with happiness. "I'm great! I'm really excited and nervous and do I look okay because I swear my hair is going crazy today and can you believe it I'm getting married and Damon—"
He clapped his hands onto his friend's shoulders. "Tyrone, Tyrone, Tyrone! You'll be fine. You look fine." He managed a smile. "Congratulations, old friend."
"Thank you." Tyrone smiled back, albeit nervously. It was only then that Damon realized how frazzled his best friend really looked, with messy hair and excited-to-the-point-of-panicking eyes.
He chuckled lightly at the look on his friend's face. "There's no need to be so nervous; you and Sylvie will be—perfect—together." He swallowed, the last words twisting in his throat.
"Damon, I..." Tyrone hesitated, fiddling with the white gloves that he was gripping tightly in his hands. He glanced away. "I'm sorry you never got together with Sylvie, but I—I truly do love her..."
"I know. It's fine; I couldn't think of a better match for Sylvie." Damon smiled kindly at him, watching as some of his friend's unease slipped away. "I'm glad you two are getting married, really."
Tyrone stood up straighter, his smile a little less nervous. "Thanks again, Damon. You really are the best friend a man could ask for." He clapped him on the shoulder before turning and leaving.
Damon waved, watching him go. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, he lowered his eyes to the floor. He had lied—at least a little. He could think of one match better for Sylvie than Tyrone:
Me.
Ross groaned loudly as he rolled over onto his back and threw the papers into the air. He was sick of all of it. Reading notes, studying notes, looking at more notes. Just notes, notes, notes...
He sighed and jumped up, picking up papers and sitting down at his desk. He pulled up a bag of snacks he'd gotten at the grocery store just for himself.
Speaking of the grocery store... He'd gotten home from the shopping with an unusually preppy Christie since Michael's unconsciousness, and he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her that made her so happy. Before he could contemplate it for very long, however, the two of them ran into Vix.
He stood at the gates of the mansion, arms folded and green eyes narrowed. He didn't look happy.
Ross frowned, slowing down. Beside him, Christie slowed down too, not noticing Vix. "What's the matter?" she asked, looking curious.
Before Ross could reply, Vix cut in: "What's the matter is the fact that you think you can just disappear from this house whenever you want to!" This caused Ross to snap his jaws shut; Vix didn't just look grumpy—he didn't sound happy either. Whatever it is, I'm staying out of it.
Christie was unfazed by Vix's sharp tone, however. "What? Just because you're my bodyguard doesn't mean I need you all the time. Besides, I had Ross with me!"
"Yeah, but you two decided to split up! Do you know what could've happened if you hadn't been careful? Like you fain—" Vix stopped his outburst.
She narrowed her eyes. "Wait... How did you know we split up?"
"I-I just do, okay! It seems like the obvious choice, since there was twenty or so items on the list and there were two people. So it probably got split between the two of you!"
Christie stuck her tongue out at him. She didn't understand why he was acting this way, but it was making her mad.
"From now on, you can't just go about wherever; whenever you feel like it, talking to whoever you feel like," Vix finally decided. "I have to be able to keep an eye on you. This won't be for everything, of course. But you shouldn't talk to people like the Rowdyruff Boys, at least."
When she heard that, Christie snapped her chin upwards, her eyes flashing. "What!? I thought you said you being my bodyguard would be a good thing because you didn't care that much about what I did!"
"That was before you were kidnapped by Damon!" Vix yelled back.
"That's a load of bull and you know it! You didn't dictate my life right after my kidnapping, so why start now? Why is now any different?" she demanded.
"I don't want to dictate your life! I just want you to be more careful. Besides, your parents are awake now, and I have to care more. One wrong move and they'll have my head," he shot back in frustration.
"If you cared about how I feel at all, you wouldn't be so controlling!"
"I'm not being all that controlling! Why can't you see that!? Do you want to talk to the Rowdyruff Boys so desperately you're going to disagree with my decision this strongly!?"
"It's not that! This is my life, and I want to make my own decisions! You're being just as bad as Uncle Danes!"
Vix's green eyes widened at the accusation before they narrowed, his left eye flashing white. "I am nothing like Danes! I'm just trying to care more about your well-being!"
"Oh, so you didn't care enough before, did you?" she scoffed. "You never cared for my well-being as a friend?"
"I did! I'm just caring as a bodyguard now. I'm making sure my care is enough," he protested.
Christie stared at him for a long time at that. "I appreciate it, Vix—but your care as a friend was already enough. I thought you knew that, but I guess I was wrong." Then she whirled around and stormed off.
Vix watched her go, before turning to see Ross. The two teenage boys stood there together for awhile in awkward silence. Then Vix sighed, "I'm sorry you had to see that."
"It's fine, but do you really think this is a good idea? Pissing off a girl like Christie when you're supposed to be her bodyguard doesn't sound like a good idea," Ross pointed out mildly.
Vix couldn't reply. He just shook his head in exasperation, before turning on his heel and walking off in the direction opposite of Christie.
Ross had watched him go, and then went up to his own room to continue studying his father's notes and try to forget the whole fiasco between Vix and Christie. That ordeal really had nothing to do with him.
He leaned back in his chair. I wonder why Vix was suddenly acting so...so protective of Christie? Could it be that— His eyes widened. Does Vix like Christie!? That would've explained a lot, but it seemed so far-fetched. The concept was so weird that Ross couldn't quite picture it.
"A lovers' quarrel, huh..." He was balancing his pencil on his upper lip as he drowned in his thoughts. "Lovers' quarrel..." His mind immediately flashed to Sydney and he blushed, starting. The pencil clattered to the floor and Ross groaned, raking a hand through his curly brown hair.
He and Sydney had never been lovers, but he had had a crush on her, once upon a time. And now they were so uncomfortable around each other; talks led to disagreements, sort of like—
—A lovers' quarrel. He finished the thought with his cheeks burning a deep shade of flaming red.
A knock on the door caused him to jump back to reality. He leapt up, nearly knocking over his chair as he called loudly, "Come in!"
The door opened and Shamus' head popped in, brown eyes flickering from Ross' bed to his desk. He walked in when he spotted his nephew. "Ah, there you are! You've been out of my sight all day, but I noticed that you got the grocery shopping done. Thank you."
"It's fine, Uncle." Ross was relieved that nowadays his uncle had dropped some of his strictness, probably after seeing what loss feels like to an uncle from Michael and Danes.
"I hope you've done your homework," Shamus remarked. "You should always get that done first."
Ross smiled awkwardly. However, Shamus was still pretty strict, he thought with amusement. "Of course, Uncle."
"There's a lot to talk about." His uncle sat down on the edge of Ross' green bed and sighed. "Maggie and Chris are back, and now someone related to Damon—his twin of all people—is living under our very roof."
"Do you not trust Raymond?" Ross cocked his head to the side.
"How can I? I trusted Damon. He betrayed me. He betrayed all of us." His uncle ran a hand through his hair.
"I know, but I don't think Raymond's so bad. I don't really trust him either, but that's just instinct. Overall, he seems like a good person. He's a competent healer, at least. We should give him a chance."
Shamus was quiet for a heartbeat. Then he smiled. "You're just like your father."
"I am?" Ross was surprised to hear it, even if he shouldn't have been. He'd been told that plenty of times, but he never could quiet see it. Sure he had the same brown hair and the green eyes, but his father had been a smart and kind man—who died far too early.
"Of course. You remind me of him so often. I'm glad you don't wear glasses though. The similarity would be almost unbearable." Shamus' smile turned soft as his eyes looked distant and sad, glimmering with past memories. "He was a benevolent, kind man who was determined in all that he did. He deserved the happiness he got, but he never deserved to die. And you're like him. You have the same positivity, the same happiness, the same desire to trust others and give them a chance."
Ross felt his heart warm. "Thank you, Uncle. It's an honour to be compared to my father."
Shamus turned quiet for awhile again before he asked, "Did you and Sydney have a fight?"
He stiffened at the words. "What...?"
"I know you and Sydney have become so distant with time, but now it's gotten to the point where it's like you can't even be in the same room with each other, let alone try and speak," commented Shamus.
Ross blushed. "N-Nothing happened."
"You lie." Shamus stood up and walked over, reaching out. Ross flinched but all that happened was a soft touch as his uncle ruffled his hair. "I know you better than that, Ross. I know you and she had some sort of unpleasant conversation. I may not know the details, but I always thought you liked her—as more than a friend. I know this from experience, after all."
Ross was so embarrassed he couldn't answer.
Shamus waited a few seconds before smiling and patting his nephew's head. "I see." He turned around. "Well, I better go. But before I do, I have to tell you something..."
"What is it, Uncle?"
"Best of luck with Buttercup, Ross."
"UNCLE!" Ross' face turned bright red as he covered his face with his hands.
Shamus chuckled as he opened the door. "Oh, and Ross?"
"Whaaaat?" groaned Ross, voice muffled by his hands.
"You have a visitor."
As Shamus closed the door behind him, Ross peeked upwards to see who the visitor was. His eyes immediately widened after he saw her.
Her. Sydney.
She was wide-eyed too, hand raised in position to knock, and her face was pink. She looked softer than usual—gentler, dressed in a frilly white apron and blue sweater with gray jeans. Her hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail, and she had dough smears on her hands and arms and apron. She even had on checkered baby-blue oven mitts and was carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies.
"H-How long have you been out there?" Ross self-consciously dragged a hand through his messy, curly brown hair and did up a few buttons on his plaid, green button-up shirt. His black sweats were crinkled.
"A-A few seconds." Ross wondered if she was lying. "I-I was wondering if you wanted cookies. Sidney needed cheering up so we decided to bake together. Mom got really excited and decided to dress me up for the occasion. I was just coming by with—cookies. To give you. From my house. With Sidney. Sidney's here too. I didn't come alone." Her face was red and she was rambling.
Ross briefly forgot his embarrassment. "Really? You guys hardly ever do anything together."
Sydney's face turned pink. "I'm just turning over a bit of a new leaf. Trying to be there for him; trying to be...nicer," she replied awkwardly.
"'Nicer', huh?" he repeated. "So... Maybe you have a lot of things about yourself that you plan on changing, I suppose?"
"I-I guess." She looked away.
"Well...what about your dating choices? Are they still the same?" he pressed.
She gazed at him for a long, long time. "I don't know," she finally admitted.
Ross turned away. "I see," he murmured. "Well, do you want me to be honest?"
"A-About what?"
"About you turning over a new leaf."
"Fine. Say what you will." She steeled herself for something harsh.
Ross bit his lip before finally mumbling just loud enough for her to hear, "I like you just the way you are." The silence that followed his statement was dreadful. He quickly added, "You're not a bad person, but trying to be nicer does sound like a good idea! Just...don't change too much." His voice had crescendoed to a louder tone before falling in volume.
"O-Okay." Sydney's blush was all over her cheeks now, as was Ross', and her eyes were hidden by her bangs. She slammed the cookies down on Ross' nightstand a little harder than necessary. "J-Just take the cookies!" she yelled, before spinning around and running off.
Ross jumped up. "W-Wait!" he called, but she was already gone. He sighed in defeat and let her go, because he didn't know what he'd say to her even if he got her to stay behind.
Leaning back in his chair, he heard his phone buzz. He turned slightly so that he could see the screen. A smile began to play at his lips when he saw that it was from Buttercup: "'Can you meet me at the park? I wanna talk.'"
He bounced back in his chair and typed a response before grabbing his jacket and rushing out the door. He flew past Shamus on his way out. "Bye, Uncle! I'm heading out again!"
"Already? But Ross, Sidney and Sydney are here," Shamus called back.
Ross paused and hesitated. He couldn't just leave when guests were over. And besides, he thought awkwardly, it's nice to be able to see Sydney acting less distant again... He flushed red. So he decided to stay for awhile and texted Buttercup again, correcting himself and promising to be there soon.
He joined Shamus and the rest of the mansion at the large dining room table. Danes sat at the head, arms folded on top of one another. His gray gaze was distracted, which was new. Danes never got distracted. He never lost focus.
Shamus sat beside him, and across from him were Maggie and Chris. They sat straight and looked commanding, sucking up the pleasant atmosphere with their mere presence. The room was awkwardly silent.
The spot beside Shamus and across from Chris was open (and that's where Ross sat). Christie sat with her parents, and on the other side of the table was Vix. She wasn't looking at him. Sidney's parents sat beside Christie, and Sidney and Sydney were on the other side. Then there was Sarah and Sally.
Plates covered the table and there were a lot of cookies. Sidney's father stood up. "To commemorate Maggie and Chris' return, we have decided to bake a cake!" He gestured at his wife, who held up a glass case that contained the cake. There was awkward clapping, but not cheering. It was hard to tell if Maggie and Chris were pleased or not.
Sidney's father was a tall, skinny man, with shaggy, pastel-brown hair that was swept to the side so one of his caramel-brown eyes were covered. He wore brown vests and mint-green shirts with baggy sleeves. His wife had curly tan-brown hair usually piled in dramatic hairdos or in a bun/braid. Today her hair was twisted around and around her head in a braid, like a crown. Flowers adorned her hair and she wore a baggy light-green sweater. She usually smelled like cookies and flowers, and wore sharp, pastel-pink glasses. Sidney's mother usually dressed in baggy clothes and long skirts. She had full, puckered lips and eyes that usually didn't seem open all the way. She was a woman who could be seen as a romantic—spacey and often dreaming and optimistic but distant to a fault. His father was a laid-back, surprisingly athletic dude.
"Thank you for the warm welcome," Maggie said icily, not sounding thankful at all. It wasn't that she disliked Sidney's parents—she was just unimpressed with their hippie niceness.
"It's cheesecake, but low in fat," Sidney's mother stated in her soft, far-off voice. It wasn't quiet like Sidney's voice, but it was more like she spoke without really always being there.
Sidney's father spoke in an upbeat, cheerful tone almost 24/7. "Let's dig in!" he yelled.
Chris nodded stiffly, his icy-blue gaze sliding towards his wife. Neither of them looked all that excited. Chris began to cut the cake expertly. Maggie was a terrible cook, but Chris was pretty good. In fact, he had worked as a pastry chef for quite awhile.
Ross got a slice with kiwi and orange and strawberry and chocolate on it. He dug in, just realizing exactly how hungry he'd been. He avoided Sydney's gaze the entire time.
When he finished, he let the adults talk while he pushed the plate away and got up. He caught sight of Sidney getting up as well, so he joined his friend. "Hey, bro. I heard from your sister that you were feeling down."
Sidney seemed surprised. "Sydney talked to you?" he asked softly.
Ross blushed. "Sh-She just wanted to give me some cookies and we happened to sort of talk."
"Ah. Well, it's true I feel sort of sad." Sidney's face crumpled.
"What happened?" Ross inquired. His friend just shook his head, leaving him frustrated. "C'mon, Sid, just tell me! Otherwise I can't help you."
"I don't want help." He seemed so sad it actually hurt. "I just want things to go back to normal again."
"What's this all about? Is it about Bubbles?" Ross asked. When Sidney didn't answer, Ross' gaze turned sad. "I wish you'd talk about this kind of thing, Sid. We'd be there to comfort you."
"If you want to know so bad, just ask my sister. I-I don't feel like talking." Sidney sounded surprisingly defensive for his soft-spoken nature all of a sudden, so Ross decided it was time to back off a bit.
"...No."
He glanced up with a start. "What?"
"I said no. I'm not prying until you're ready to tell me." Ross met his friend's gaze steadily. "If you want to tell me, then you'll tell me. So I'll wait." He turned around. "See you later."
As Ross marched off, Sidney bit his lip and stared down at the ground. If only I had your type of resolve, Ross...
Meanwhile, Ross made his way outside. He was about to keep walking when he heard a stick snap from behind him. He whirled around just in time to see someone duck behind some bushes. He paused briefly, waiting until the perpetrator could relax a little before diving for the bush. There was a squeaking noise as he collided into someone else, causing them both to crash into the heavy wall of vines that scaled one part of the mansion's walls.
Ross steadied himself and opened his eyes, immediately turning red. He hadn't meant to, but he'd managed to knock him and the person beneath him into a wall, and now he stood with the person pinned down by his arms, their back against the wall. They looked almost as embarrassed as he felt. What made the situation worse was the fact that the person was, in fact, Sydney. Great. My day just keeps getting better and better, he thought sarcastically.
"Umm... Ross?" she squeaked awkwardly.
"A-Ah, yeah—sorry." He quickly let go and jumped backwards, eyes wide. "I didn't mean to."
"I-I know." Sydney didn't meet his eyes as she dusted herself off.
"What were you doing?" he finally asked.
She stiffened. "N-Nothing! I just... I-I umm..." Finally she seemed to find her resolve and she said firmly, "I just wanted to see where you were going after your talk with Sidney, that's all."
He blinked, feeling pretty sure that her reason wasn't 100% true. He sighed and lowered his head. "We can't keep doing this."
"Ross...?" She sounded concerned.
He didn't answer immediately. "Sydney, why are we... Why are we acting this way?" He raised his head, leaning in closer. "You broke my heart. Why are you trying so hard to become closer again? I told you, if you can't decide whether or not you care for me, then it'll always end in flames."
"I just—I never meant to hurt you, Ross. I don't want us to stay like this—awkward and scared. I'm trying, Ross. I'm trying to change," she replied.
"But you still haven't made up your mind. Indecision hurts, Sydney. Don't you see that?" He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, his lips inches from hers. "I just... Can't. Do. This. Anymore."
"Ross..." Her eyes turned sad and she looked away.
His eyes were hidden by his bangs. "I need to go." He let her go and turned away. "Bye, Sydney."
She stared after him, wanting to call out but not knowing what to say.
As Ross walked to the park, he felt sad and guilty inside. I'm not treating her fairly. She is trying to change but I can't forget the past. Besides, she broke my heart. He paused. And yet...
He clenched his fingers into a fist near his chest. Why do I feel this way? Why does it hurt so bad?
"Ross! Rooooss!"
He jumped, looking up to see Buttercup's lime-green streak. He forced himself to smile. "Hi, BC." Just seeing her always brightened his day.
"There you are. Usually you're quite punctual. Did something come up?"
Ross nodded. "As my text said, I got held up by a family dinner..."
"But what about after? In the text about the family dinner, you said you'd be here"—she checked her phone—"fifteen minutes ago."
He smiled. "Sorry, BC. Did you really want to see me that badly?"
She blushed, slowly landing on the ground. "Don't kid yourself, man."
Ross laughed. "I wish I could. Anyway, what did you want to talk about?"
"Well, something weird happened at the school today after classes ended. I don't know if you heard or saw anything, but there were these people fighting... And then there was this explosion! I don't know what's going on, but there was smoke and Butch and the RRB seemed to know something about what had happened... Then Butch got kind of beat up by this woman named 'Maggie', but he wouldn't say anything to me and I'm just—" She cut herself off before she said "worried". "I'm just frustrated."
Ross' eyes widened. "What...?"
"Didn't you hear the explosion?" she asked.
He took a step back. "Umm...I'm not sure. I just—uhh, my friends and I left really soon today because we had things to do after class. Only Darkai stayed behind." Ross didn't mention how Shamus had seen Maggie and Chris fighting with Sampson and Harry. He'd herded Ross and his friends out of the school in fear of them being targeted by Harry or Sampson. But that also meant that Ross had missed any form of action after being ushered out, like the explosion. "What happened?"
Buttercup shook her head. "I don't know. Butch tried to help the 'Maggie' woman, but she threw him aside and disappeared, claiming that she was looking for 'Chris'."
"Oh boy." Ross swallowed hard. His mind was spinning. "So, uh...what did you want to say about all of this to me?"
"I figured we could try and find out who set the explosion off. Obviously they're a danger to the school and whoever this Maggie and Chris is, they were caught in the crossfire too."
"Oh, yeah. Sure." Ross wasn't actually that sure—as in agreeing to Buttercup, at least. He knew what most of the answers were, but they sure weren't pretty.
Buttercup began talking, and Ross just completely tuned her out without meaning to. He just couldn't stop thinking of Maggie and Chris' involvement with Sampson and Harry. He knew Michael's parents could handle the two men, but he wasn't quite sure either of them had set the explosion off. Maybe—
"Ross!"
"Y-Yeah?" He snapped back to attention, blinking hard.
"Christ, man. You're really spacey today. Maybe we should talk about this some other time," Buttercup stated.
Ross' cheeks turned pink. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just worried about what'll happen to the school," he half-lied.
"Hmm. I know how you feel. I'll let you think it over for awhile, Ross. No rush. It is pretty shocking, after all. I should get going anyway. There's still that curfew in place," she said, smiling.
"Alright. See you later, BC." He smiled and walked over to her. "But before you go..."
"What?" She blinked.
He said nothing at first, instead pulling on her wrist and dragging the floating Puff down a bit. He leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek.
Her eyes widened and she turned bright red. He let go of her hand and she floated upwards like a balloon. "Wh-What was that for!?" demanded Buttercup.
"For good luck." He smiled. And to cheer myself up. I'm over Sydney now.
She was still blushing, but she managed to calm down. "I-It's not like I need your dumb luck, stupid."
"But I need yours." He looked up at her with a bright smile, and she looked away.
"O-Okay, I get it! I-I gotta go already. Later."
"Bye, BC." He waited until she'd flown away before walking off. He blushed when he recalled what he'd just done. He still supported Butch and Buttercup, but the more he got tangled up with Sydney and his heart hurt, the more he wanted to be cheered up with someone like...her.
Ross blushed harder. He knew he was being indecisive, but he couldn't help it. Ross sighed.
He'd hardly gotten out of the park when there was a low giggling sound nearby. He looked around, shuddering as goosebumps crawled up his skin. He sped up and walked halfway home before he saw someone standing a little further away. They didn't look very impressed or happy.
He squinted. Is that...Harry?
The person vanished when he rubbed his eyes and looked again. Ross continued on uneasily, glancing around. He felt like he was being watched. And followed. And by more than one person. Shuddering again, he started to run.
He was pretty much home when all of a sudden, he smashed into someone. Ross stumbled back, letting out a startled cry. "I'm not afraid of you, Harry!" he yelled. "Stop following me!"
"Ross, are you okay?"
Ross froze. That didn't sound like Harry. It sounded like... He gasped. Damon! He was afraid of Damon. He was terribly afraid of Damon. Ross took a few steps back and got ready to bolt, keeping an eye on the man with his deep-blue cloak and dark-brown eyes. "I-I'm not scared of you either, Damon."
Damon blinked. "What...? Ross, no! I'm not Damon. It's me, Raymond."
Ross looked again and instantly felt relieved. Embarrassed, but relieved. He had forgotten about Raymond. Plus, he reminded himself, Damon always wears a green cloak now. "Oh, sorry, Raymond." He relaxed. "I just—I feel like I'm being watched." He explained the ordeal on the way home, and Raymond's brown eyes softened.
"Oh, you poor thing." He reached out and Ross flinched, so he paused. "Oh, sorry. It's probably hard talking to someone who looks like...Damon."
"N-No, I'm sorry. I'm being silly." Ross told himself to stand still and Raymond hesitated before patting him on the head.
"Come with me, Ross. I was just tending to the gardens. There's something I want to show you," the man said gently.
Ross followed, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't sure why.
Raymond lead him deeper into the garden, stopping when they were in a clearing surrounded by tangled clumps of ferns and vines and other flowers. "Look at that, Ross."
He looked. And he saw. The thing Raymond was pointing at was a large, light-purple-pink flower planted inside of a white pot.
"What is it?" asked Ross, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. It was a pretty little thing, but the way it drooped made him think of sadness.
"That's a katakuri flower," the man explained, kneeling down to check on it. "It's a trout lily native to Japan, Korea, the Russian Far East, and northeastern China. It blooms in April to June in the woodlands."
"It's beautiful," Ross breathed, "but why did you want to show me this specific flower?"
Raymond was silent for awhile. "...Ross, do you trust me?"
He hesitated. "As much as I can," he finally answered truthfully.
"I suppose that's all I can ask for," his companion sighed in a sad manner. He turned to the teenage boy and smiled. If he hadn't reminded Ross so much of Damon, then the smile would've seemed a lot more welcoming. "There's something I want to say to you."
"What is it?" he inquired, now feeling nervous.
"Well... I can tell you are having troubles with your emotions right now. I don't mean to pry, but I couldn't help but notice your interest in Buttercup—and yet, you haven't fully moved on from Sydney either, have you?"
Ross blinked, his jaw dropping open at the idea that an outsider such as Raymond—Damon's brother, no less—would be able to see through him. "I-I—"
"Am I wrong?" Raymond asked.
Ross snapped his jaw shut and shook his head. "No, you're right. Everything you just said is right. I don't know what's wrong with me! I thought I got over Sydney, but I can't seem to stop old feelings from resurfacing now that she's talking to me more again. She's changing, and it's really messing with my emotions—and my resolve. She broke my heart, and yet...
"But then... Then there's Buttercup. She's such an amazing, cool person that I don't even know if—if she's beyond me. I feel like she and Butch would be a good match if the two weren't always so stubborn, but now I can't deny the way I'm—well, the way I'm feeling. I told myself I'd be nice to her even if she should be with Butch, but that might've been a mistake because now... Now I just don't know anymore."
Raymond listened patiently, stroking the katakuri flower the entire time. When Ross finished breathlessly, the man replied in a quiet tone, "Do you know what this flower means?"
Ross shook his head.
"It means to withstand jealousy and sadness," Raymond explained, standing up. He towered over Ross, but it wasn't intimidating like Danes or scolding like Shamus. Raymond towered over him in a way that made him seem like a warm, adult figure with comforting advice that Ross wanted to look up to, despite him being Damon's kin.
"Does it?" the boy replied.
The man nodded. "And I think it suits you rather well, Ross. You seem like someone who has to withstand quite a bit of sadness—and now envy too."
Ross hesitated. "I guess," he finally admitted reluctantly. "So what do I do about it?"
Raymond shook his head. "That's entirely up to you to decide."
"So you're just going to regurgitate bullshit about me following my heart or something?" Ross responded in a somewhat bitter tone as he glanced away—he'd been expecting a wiser answer from Raymond.
The man smiled. "No, that wasn't what I was trying to say either." He paused to gather his thoughts. "What I mean is that, I think you should choose soon. Being indecisive leads to many disasters, I'm afraid. But it's up to your 'heart' to decide whether or not you want to follow me advice. So yeah, follow your heart, but he'd your mind too."
Ross frowned, rolling the words around inside his head. They made more and more sense the more he repeated them. In fact, he'd even said to Sydney those specific words: "indecision is dangerous". He blinked. "Thanks, Raymond. I think I understand what you're saying."
"And do you know what you want to do?"
He thought it over again before answering. In his mind, he saw a girl—a girl he wanted to talk to and say how he really felt about her, despite all the possible consequences that would follow. He decided to risk it. He could live with the consequences. "Yeah, I think so."
"That's good to hear." The man smiled, brown eyes sparkling. "Off you go now, young one."
"Thanks, Raymond! You're ten times the man Damon ever was," Ross called over his shoulder as he leapt away.
Raymond gazed after him with a somewhat sad expression—his eyes gleamed with an ancient unhappiness, it was obvious he wasn't fully happy, even though he was smiling. In fact, it was most noticeable in his smile. If one were to look a little deeper, they'd see the long-since buried sadness—
—Too bad Ross had never gazed that long. The boy was running into the mansion and flying up the stairs to his room. He slammed the door behind him and flopped down on his green bed. He reached into his pocket for his phone and pushed the power button on. Instantly the lock-screen flashed into view, and he readied his trembling fingers to type a text to a certain someone—
—Until his phone started ringing. Shocked, he nearly dropped the device and had to fumble around with it bouncing from hand to hand. When he finally managed to answer, he realized he'd forgotten to check who the call was from. It was too late for that, however. "Hello?" he asked.
"Hello, Ross."
The voice on the other hand was smug—smirking and sinister.
Ross sat up straighter as the tone caught his attention. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it... "Who is this? How do you know my name?"
"Oh, I know lots of things, my little friend—lots of things that you don't know."
"Who are you?" he demanded again through gritted teeth.
"Me? Why, I'm nobody. But at the same time, I'm everybody," the man snickered.
"Enough playing games. I'm going to report you to my uncle," Ross threatened. Inside his heart was pounding like crazy, and outside he was sweating now.
"Are you now? Am I meant to be scared?"
"No!"
"Well then, thank you kindly for the warning. I can guarantee that your uncle won't be able to do much, however."
"Don't be so sure," Ross muttered back. "What do you want?"
"Anyway, I have something very important I want to discuss with you." The man seemed to be smiling now. He ended up describing a certain someone, with a certain kind of relationship with Ross. "You be careful out there and listen to me, little one. There are a couple things I want you to do for me, otherwise your little girlfriend will get a shot through her pretty little skull."
"Leave her alone! Just tell me what you want."
The man laughed, "That's a call for another day; a secret for me to know and for you to find out."
Trying to shove away his growing fear, Ross snapped, "No more games, alright! Who are you!?"
"...I am Damon."
Almost immediately Ross froze and he stared blankly into space, trying to process this new piece of information. "You're—?" He trailed off.
"—Damon," the man finished. "And I suggest you keep an eye out for a sign or two, my friend."
"Damon..."
"Yes?"
"Fuck you. You're a terrible human being. I hate you. I fucking hate you."
"Duly noted. Now goodbye, Ross, and remember this message." Damon hung up.
Now the teenage boy was shaking, pressing the off button on his phone as he slowly lowered his hand. He felt terrified, even though he didn't want to admit it. He'd never expected Damon to call him, of all people, in the history of ever—let alone threaten him.
What does Damon want from me? What does Damon want from her?
Ross curled his legs up to his chest and buried his head in his arms.
*(A/N: Reference to chapter 53!)
**(A/N: Reference to chapter 46!)
ME: *panting, skids to a stop* Okay, so I think I lost him! Finally.
BUTTERCUP: *triple sweat-drop* In that case, you feel like talking about this chapter?
ME: Ooh yeah! Even more tension and romance is in this chapter!
BLOSSOM: How exciting. You certainly seem to be building up to something large, do you not?
ME: Well...no spoilers, but yeahhh. *excited grin and wink* There'll be plenty of big things happening in the future chapters, and some are right around the corner! Exciting, right?
BUTCH: *whines* When are Butterbabe and I gonna get together?
ME: Quiet, Butch! You are not yet the main focus.
BUTCH: That's cold!
ME: Shhhhhh. *places index finger against his lip* Just...shhhh.
BUTCH: *pouts*
ME: Since I went over everything last chapter in the Author's Notes, I'm keeping this simple! So yeah, please leave a review and don't forget to mention whether or not Smoke & Mirrors sounds like a good idea! And—
BRICK: KUKU! THERE YOU ARE!
ME: OH SHIT. *starts running again*
BUTTERCUP: *quadruple sweat-drop* Bye, everyone...
BLASTER: Reviewwwwww!