Note: chapter is later than it should've been because mah internet died... for the umpteenth time that day
A/N- sorry if this isn't up to mah standard… I was verbally abused at work today by a customer (I was called racist, stupid, etc) and I'm badly shaken from it cos she was literally shaking the building with her screaming… again, I bow at your feet and bed forgiveness if you readers don't like it…
It was lunchtime in London; it being around the time of one o'clock GMT. Many of the Londoners were flocking about the streets, most walking from work for a while to look for a peaceful café for a bite to eat or to find a nearby bar.
But there were two teens who were walking towards a particular place; a hospital. They were heading to visit their friend, and teammate, who had been unfairly injured in a recent bey fight.
Many people recognised Robert Jurgen and Johnny McGregor of the Majestics, but the two ignored the public; Oliver was more important. (A/N- /cough/ yeah right… we're just not good enough for you upper classers)
They talked, sometimes laughing softly… one of them getting rather angry at points…
They entered the private hospital entrance hall, making their way towards another door opposite to them. It led to a large, peaceful, grassy and light courtyard, built for those patients who could move about and needed to get away. Their friend's room was in another area of the building and this was the shortest way to his room.
But they stopped dead at something.
Nearby, under the thick sliver birch tree, sat Oliver; plus Enrique. Enrique sat behind Oliver, his back against the trunk and arms encircling the younger's waist, holding him to his frame. Oliver, dressed in simple joggers and t-shirt, had a peaceful smile upon his lips, his eyes closed as if savouring the moment of being with the blonde.
"Wha-? But… how?" Johnny stuttered. "He was unconscious less than a day ago with bad injuries!"
Robert had a thoughtful frown on his brow, though a smile on face was also present. "It doesn't matter… as long as they're okay; both of them." His smile increased for the merest of seconds before he turned to Johnny. "Come on; we have a flight to catch."
"'We'?" Johnny repeated as they walked back inside. "Oh so I'm coming along now am I?"
"Well, I could always cancel your ticket…"
"Oh shut up, arse."
"That may have been my eyes deceiving me, but I thought I just saw Robert and Johnny over there." Oliver murmured to Enrique.
Enrique smiled. "Most likely was. They said they'd come and check-up on you… I guess that it's better that I came to see you earlier, then, huh?"
Oliver chuckled lightly. "The look on your face when you came into my room was priceless, Enrique…"
"I wasn't expecting you to be awake so soon." Enrique replied with a pout, nuzzling Oliver's cheek.
"Still…" Oliver said in an almost whispered voice. "I'm glad you're okay."
"I should be saying that about you, Oli…" Enrique murmured, arms tightening their hold on the French teen. "For a few moments, I thought… thought that I was gunna lose you."
" 'Would never leave you, Enrique… never…" He smiled, but it turned into a sad one slowly, eyes glazing over as he lost focus.
"Oliver?" Enrique frowned slightly, turning the French's face towards him with a finger. He inhaled sharply when he saw tears in the younger's eyes. "Oliver…"
He pulled him against his chest, letting Oliver cry softly into his shirt. He rubbed Oliver's back, lightly kissing green hair.
"Oliver…" He whispered. "What's wrong? Please tell me…"
"My father…"
Those two words… if those two words were ever even muttered to Enrique, he felt his soul ablaze with rage. He swallowed, trying to steady himself… but he couldn't help it…
He pulled Oliver's face to his and into what might've been a bruising kiss if more pressure had been applied, full of as much passion as Enrique could give to the French teen. The kiss became one full of needy want, full of an emotion that neither Enrique nor Oliver had ever felt before.
The blonde pulled away, chest heaving to fill his lungs with deprived oxygen. He swallowed the lump in his throat and felt hot tears flow down his cheeks.
He bit his lip. "D-Don't be sad, Oli… He-He won't do anyth-thing to y-you… he can't take y-you f-from me… I… I love you."
"…I'm sorry, Enrique…"
Enrique's heart skipped a few beats…
"…For making you cry… I love you too."
Enrique bit his lip to stop him for crying out in strange joy. His eyes spilled more tears, but he furiously wiped them away.
"Look at us…" He said, laughing. "We're blubbing like babies…" He swallowed another lump that had surfaced in his throat.
Oliver replied with a soft, ghostly kiss. "Yeah, but we're together; crying like babies, as you so kindly put it."
Enrique smiled back and his eyes held a strange glint, standing out like the sun in a midday sky.
"We're going." He said simply, standing up and pulling Oliver up too.
"Going where?" Oliver asked, as he was pulled along to the building where his room was situated.
"You're coming back home; with me."
"To Italy?"
"Yup. Then your father can't find you and he won't be able to hurt you anymore."
As he said this, they entered the French's room, said French boy moving to his neatly piled clothing. Enrique dignifiedly turned his back to Oliver to let him change.
"Oli…" Enrique said with a sigh. "I… overheard what your dad said to you, and I'm really sorry for what he said; even though it's not technically my fault. But… this is the only way."
"I know." Replied a soft voice behind him. Arms were wrapped around the Italian's waist and he felt Oliver's head rest on his back. "And I thank you for it."
There was a moment of peaceful silence, until Enrique was forced to stop it.
"Come on, Oli. We better go. Your dad must've heard about you being in hospital so he'll be over very soo-"
"Master Polanski?" A nurse popped her head around the door. "Your father is here to see you. I'll send him up right-"
"Sorry, could you tell him I'll come to him?" Oliver asked politely. "I just need to finish talking to Enrique; I'll be down in five minutes."
The nurse nodded and disappeared. Enrique and Oliver shared a look before running out the door and down the corridor, away from the direction in which the nurse went.
"We… made… it…" Enrique panted, sprawling across the couch-bench of a private jet. "You okay… Oli?"
"Mm hm." Oliver replied, sitting next to him, staring down with peaceful purple eyes. "You?"
Enrique nodded and closed his eyes, yawning. "I wonder how Johnny and Robert are…" He muttered with a sigh, as Oliver ran his fingers through sunshine hair.
Oliver smiled. "I don't know…"
"We don't know where he is, sir."
"Of course you do!" The elder Polanski roared at the German noble. "You've told him lies and forced him to run away with that Giancarlo kid!"
"With all due respect, sir-"
"Respect? Pah; you don't have enough to give to a premature ant!"
"Listen here, mister-"
"Johnny, quiet." Robert turned back to the French man. "I'm sorry but I do not know where your son is. Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you," the Polanski made an indignant noise of protest, but Robert cut him off, "because, I have been civilised to you, but you insist on covering my face in saliva and verbally abusing me. Therefore, I refuse to talk to anymore. Good day." (1)
Robert turned his back on the French aristocrat and together, he and Johnny walked towards the door of their hotel, grabbing their bags swiftly, and departing.
As they walked out the hotel, the doors closing behind them, a black car drove up to the side of the pavement. They stepped in and the car drove off to the airport.
Johnny looked at Robert. "You really put that guy in his place, Robert." He commented.
Robert made no change in his facial expression, only stayed in his pose that could have matched Kai's. "I was merely stating a point, Johnny; I do not argue with people."
"Apart from me."
"Only on special occasions, Johnny."
There was a pause…
"Say Robert? Do you actually know where those two are?" Johnny asked from his position on the couch, where he was lying down.
"I have a gut feeling…"
"And what is your gut saying?"
"On a plane, heading towards Rome."
"Uh huh. You know, I've never trusted your stomach before, Rob, but now… I think I am… it's rather disturbing."
(1) that's kinda what I said at work today to the customer… minus the part about the saliva; that would've been disgusting…
A/N- THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! Well, unless you don't count the epilogue as a chapter…
/Cries/
Anywho, review!