A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I didn't even realize how long it's been since I've updated, but I'm trying! College has me crying and hyperventilating in a corner. It's also has made me question everything that I've ever done in life. No lie, guys. College is brutal.
~Vermilion Flycatcher~
Chapter Four - Don't Leave Me
It was like a film. He was seeing himself in one moment, and the next, he was looking at Kid's face. He didn't have to know because he already knew that there was a gap in between the two flashes of time. Kid was kneeling in front of him and was looking at him desperately, his face filled with worry. There were scratches along his cheeks and arms, and sweat had dampened the fiery red locks to stick against his temples. The boy was telling him something – no, shouting. Kid was shouting at him. Law could see his lips moving, but no sound came out. He didn't know what he was saying.
Law was lost on how to calm the boy down. He didn't understand, and Kid was obviously getting frustrated at his lack of response. The worry etched on the boy's face morphed into fear, but it quickly changed back into anger again. Kid stopped talking, but the hand he had on Law's shoulder tightened. The boy looked away for a moment before turning back to face him once more. He blurted something really quickly and he was suddenly up on his feet and running away.
Law instinctively lurched forward to stop him. Don't go, he wanted to scream, but his throat closed as if he was choking. His voice was lost and Kid was gone. Everything turned to black for the longest time until a distant flash of grey came into light. It was too blurry for him to see anything, and it was only until Law recognized the high white ceiling that he realized that he was opening his eyes from a dream.
The suffocating weight sitting on his chest seemed to have lifted as he realized it had all been an illusion concocted by his mind. None of what he had been through was real. It was fake – a dream.
It was all a dream.
The corner of his lips twitched into a smile, and a sharp pain blossomed around the surrounding muscle. It was like a pinprick of electricity, but the meaning of the pain slapped him on the face. Whatever relief he felt was stripped away, and a jarring wave of trepidation hit him hard. The sudden feeling was enough to ground him back to the physical world and sober him up like a splash of cold water.
Law blinked the grogginess away as he turned to his side. Tender flesh screamed as he twisted in a bed, a fluffy white sheet covering his body from the neck down. Every open flesh, every bandage, and every bruise was being catalogued in his brain as he made note of the areas of sensitivity. The fact that he was pretty badly injured meant that what he had been hoping was a dream actually wasn't.
Sunlight hit his eyes as he finally made it to his right side. The ornate arched window was like a gateway to the open skies. Barely a cloud could be seen through the open glass, the sun radiating its warmth freely into the room. Judging by the shadows casted by the trees outside, it was early afternoon. His eyes then made it to the golden birdcage sitting by the windowsill.
At first, the cage seemed to be misplaced in so many ways. It looked to be an antique, rather than a practical object. The light glowed around it making it seem as if the metal was of polished gold. It was ethereal and almost too beautiful for everything around it. With its delicate curving metal, it was a wonder why anyone would leave it by the windowsill where it could fall without an appropriate attachment. In addition, the image of the cage looked so lonely in contrast to the welcoming scenery in the background. It was empty and desolate; it looked utterly lacking.
Law narrowed his eyes, and it was then that he noticed the small mass at the bottom of the cage. It seemed as if someone pressed their palm against it to flatten it down, but there was still a small roundness at the middle.
A cloud passed by to let a ray of light fall upon the enigmatic mass, and Law caught the familiar red of a feather.
Like pulling a veil, the shrouding shadows disappeared around the little thing. Then, it turned red.
Everything was red around the flattened body. Everything about it was deformed, but it was obvious that it was a bird – a dead nestling laying on its stomach and wings spread. One of its legs was crooked and sticking upwards. The other was simply missing.
Kid-ya.
If he could feel anything at all through the numbing medication that nearly immobilized him, it was dread upon seeing his and Eustass' Flycatcher so lifeless. The feeling heightened when he all too quickly accepted that this was his reality. Everything that he touched was marked with death. Everything. Even Eustass. The boy was probably dead. He doubted that the redhead escaped Vergo's sadistic clutches. The man was always thorough in his work. He would leave nothing behind.
The wind blew inside the room making the thin white curtain s billow, and it directed his attention to the person sitting on a chair by the windowsill. Facing away from the sun, the person's face was shadowed. Law looked up and stilled when the person met his gaze. He barely noticed that the person had been looking at him for a while now. They stared at him contemplatively. Without the accessory usually perched on the man's nose, Law could see the turbulence inside the speculative eyes. They were always picking – nipping at any sign of weakness.
It always made him feel as if moths were buzzing inside his stomach when the blonde didn't wear his shades. The deep blues were like twin vortexes that sucked him in and made him feel so naked. With just one look, they tore off the layers he had built around himself to protect the lie he had tried so hard to keep hidden.
The man knew. He knew his secret. His lie.
The blonde kept in his seat, his head drawn away from the book that he was reading, while his hands and book rested on the leg that crossed over the other. The man's head tilted as he gave a smile.
"You've been spending too much time in the forest, haven't you, little bird?"
Law schooled his expression into a blank stare.
"Yes, Doffy."
His lids lowered back to the bed, and that was it. He relaxed every muscle so he could go back to sleep. It was over. The weight from the medication dragged his lashes down.
"I'm getting tired of it though," he whispered just loud enough for it to reach across the room. "I don't think I'll be going back for a while."
Law didn't go back to the forest again. To avoid any reprimands, he had been staying in the villa as of late. He got himself lost in the experiments that he and Doflamingo continued to conduct. His remorse over the killing of women and children faded into a dull empathy, and soon, Law was finding his days passing by without much recollection. Everything felt mechanical. Everything was just a reason to move.
He looked down at his blood stained hands. Some of the blood had splattered on his face and clothes as well so he was merely cleaning up in the washroom. His fingers flexed stiffly as he bowed his head.
This was his "normal." This was his life.
He turned the red knob and put his hands under the rush of water. Red mixed into the colorless liquid and swirled in the porcelain sink as the water trickled down the drain. His mind wandered for a good few minutes until he realized that he had been spacing out. Catching himself, he turned off the water and left his wrists hanging at the edge of the sink. His raw, pink hands hung loosely as steam wafted from them in the air.
His grey eyes fell blankly on the mirror before him as met his own reflection. His skin had gone pallid from the lack of sun and his cheeks had hollowed slightly. His eyes though – his eyes, they were looking at him with pity. Before he could decipher any hint of longing or anger, Law whirled around to grab at the towel hanging on a hook by the wall to dry his hands.
This was his life – his normalcy.
He stepped out of the washroom, his hands raw as it touched the surrounding chill air, only to meet an unpleasant sight passing in the hallway. Adorned in his usual coat, Vergo was passing by, probably to report to Doffy. He was, after all, in the floor of his mentor's study. He had come with the blonde to discuss their findings right after they conducted business in the basement. Law, wanting to finish their meeting quickly, had followed the flamingo upstairs with his hands still bloody and opted to clean up later. Clearly, that was a bad decision on his part because his eyes slanted at the current situation he had been dropped in.
The ill-timed appearance of the older man made his blood boil. He had been doing well in not feeling anything, but the moment his eyes fell on the hard face of his mentor's dog, everything that had been building up under the emotional lid Law created came bubbling out. Vergo just noticed his presence when Law's hands came shooting up. His fruit's room ability stretched to reach the man less than a few feet away. The pressure inside him whenever he used his ability grew, knots forming in his stomach from the strain, as he pushed his limits for a stronger attack. He had every intent of slicing Vergo up into bits.
A burst of air exploded in the hallway as gashes ripped the walls and broke any nearby furniture. Fragments of plaster from the ceiling fell to the floor as the air traveled. A sharp crack of glass followed a step behind the wind, and Law could see the white jagged lines branching against the tinted glass of Vergo's shades before the glass exploded from the man's face. Instantaneous rips appeared on the man's clothes tearing the man's shirt across his chest, but underneath, untouched skin poked through.
There was a second of realization crossing Vergo's widened eyes before he was up and personal against Law's space. Rough knuckles backhanded the teen's cheek like a bar of steel jarring his skull. Law fell to the floor tasting blood. He quickly propped himself up to his elbows when a boot dug into his stomach and sent his back to the wall.
He felt like throwing up. The nauseous feeling was worse than the pain of the foot sliding down and stomping hard on his shin. He cried out in pain, Vergo looking heavier than he was, and he already looked like a walking solid mass of muscle. His hands tried weakly to push Vergo's leg off of him, but he was no match when the man used his haki.
"I thought you'd learn your lesson by now."
Law said nothing and grit his teeth through the pain.
Another kick landed against his ribs that sent him keeling over and spitting out a trail of saliva down his chin.
"You should ease up on the kid, or else you'll upset the young master."
The pressure of Vergo's foot didn't ease against his side, but the man did cease to attack. Law gathered air into his lungs before turning his aching body to look up. Wavy, green hair cascaded down delicate shoulders and an impressive bosom as he glared up at another one of his mentor's family members. Unearthly, narrow irises looked down at him unsympathetically. The yellow eyes took him in for a moment before shifting to the older man.
Monet, in a rare blue overcoat in place of her revealing clothing due to the weather, stepped closer as if meaning to pass them by.
"Doffy has already extended his curfew. Don't make him think that he needs to make any more changes. Law is his favorite for a reason."
The soft steps of her boots echoed down the hall as Vergo gave her words a silent thought. His eyes followed her back, the big, regal doors of their family head's office in the distant background. There was a knowing threat hiding under her words reminding him of the lines that Doffy had drawn on every single one of the Don Quixote family members. Everyone had privileges given to them, but it was a right, and they were gifts that could be taken away. Usually, they were taken in trade of severe punishment. Namely, death, if they weren't so important.
Law mulled over the implication of her warning as well. Did he hate it – being called the Joker's favorite?
The pain throbbing at his shin eased as Vergo lifted his leg and turned away. The bastard made sure to give a rough twist reopening a stitch from an earlier injury before completely stepping off. He didn't spare Law another glance as he left to trail after the harpy.
An ugly sneer grew on Law's face as he braced his hands against the wall to pick himself up. His injured leg was probably badly bruised, as well as his stomach and side, but nothing was broken. Still, it made it painful to stand, and he glared at the two bodies entering the study room down the hall. His eyes burned with hateful passion, his hatred fueled strongly like it had only done before when he had to escape from Flevance.
He wanted murder. He wanted death.
Law wiped the saliva on his chin with the back of his hand.
His mind was focused on what Monet's intentions were. The woman didn't care too much for him, and neither did he for her. Without a doubt, she only stopped the fight because she thought a continuation would only anger Doffy. She served him, no one else. In his mind, the woman was just another puppet. If the fight had been the other way around, Vergo at Law's mercy, she would have stopped it just the same.
Letting out a short huff, Law moved his leg forward as he hobbled on his way back downstairs. His emotions were still seething, and so was his itch to tear something apart.
Law was sitting on the balcony facing the forest. He had taken the recent fancy of sitting in the white lounge chair by the railings whenever he had the time. Admittedly, that was more often than not. The air was getting warmer, less chilly than it had been in the past few weeks, and the sky was getting clearer. Cloudless blue skies were starting to become a norm, and it was a change to the bleak grey ceiling of the basement. The air, too, smelled refreshingly clean. Law told himself that it was the need for open space that brought him outside. He needed to be able to feel that he could stretch his legs without accidentally kicking a severed head. This was his time for relaxation, to catch up on his reading, and so what if it gave him the opportunity to gaze upon the hills? They were a part of the natural terrain of the island.
It was just a mere coincidence that his eyes fell upon the distant shore. The sparkling horizon of the sea glistened, his eyes hypnotized by the slight shifts of tide, only to be disturbed by the shuffling intruding his peripherals. Law's gaze shifted down to the grass below where a servant was raking leaves. A small pile of dead foliage was slowly building up beside the boy's feet as he shepherded more with the rake in his hands. Since it was just the beginning of Spring, there were very little the boy could collect, but it was a menial task that needed to be done often to upkeep the cleanliness of the villa.
The boy wore a dark brown jacket which was rolled up to the elbows and a thin orange scarf that almost matched the color of his hair. The bright cloth wrapped around the boy's neck like tight rope. The way it coiled so closely tempted Law to pull it apart. The urge built inside his core, and he didn't realize that he had been staring so raptly until the servant turned around to reveal his boyish face. Oblivious to the pair of eyes watching him, the boy leaned against the rake with his elbow as a prop and tugged at the front of his scarf. A pale finger hooked on the cloth exposing a column of skin.
The boy's chest rose as he inhaled cool air, and he wiped a drop of sweat dripping down his temple with the back of his wrist. Another intake of breath, and the boy was back to yard work.
Law's eyes kept on the servant. The boy was facing him now, and he could study the redhead's face. His features were older than… what he would have been happy to see. Law chastised himself for comparing the servant with someone else, but he couldn't help it. The servant was perhaps a little older than Law himself, and his jawline was starting to become more defined – sharper. Freckles littered along a slightly sharp nose and exploded into imperfect circles at the top of his cheeks.
There was something soft and welcoming about the boy's face, and Law almost pitied him for somehow getting himself to be captured by his family. His brows furrowed as he slowly recalled where he had seen the boy's face before. He could picture the boy's face below him with dank cinderblocks in the background. Fear stricken and skin smudged with dirt and blood from the ground, hazel eyes looked at him desperately in panic. Naked – bare thighs against a floor filled with organs that have spilled from multiple bodies before. Lips drained of color quivered in only a way a person who was backed into a corner would.
Law had gotten the message clearly. Please don't kill me.
Dilated pupils kept the image of Death in their aperture. It was what every single person witnessed when they were at the judgement of Law's hand. The pained expressions, the teary eyes, the shaking shoulders – Law had seen it every time, but somehow, when he saw that boy, he couldn't do it. Too many similarities.
Even when he reminded himself that Kid was probably dead, Vergo had gone after him like the thorough killer he was, he couldn't handle seeing the boy who looked so much like Kid die under his blade. He couldn't help but compare their faces and that Kid probably looked like the way the boy did when Vergo was about to deal the final blow. In his final moments, Kid was probably scared, his vitals high and blood overflowing with adrenaline as his body attempted to help him survive for the last time.
The servant finally noticed the creeping notion that he was being studied. Lean, muscular arms stopped moving and the boy looked up. Short, orange lashes fluttered as hazel eyes looked up and latched onto Law leaning against the balcony.
Kind eyes devoid of hate studied him. Memories of torture had been erased from the boy's mind so that he would be more compliant, but in a way, it was another illusion. It was a magic trick that they did to him in order to veil his pain. It was wrong. The amused look playing in those hazel eyes were wrong. A shy smile fit into the thin lips.
"Fu fu fu fu."
Law's heart began to race when he heard the laugh. His eyes rounded at being caught. The deeply amused chuckle trailed by his ear, and it was so painfully obvious that he had been so enthralled by his daydream that he had forgotten the person in the chair beside him.
Law was quick to pretend that he had been engrossed in the musty medical textbook in his hands instead. The opened textbook felt like dead weight in his palms as he brought it up high to bury his nose between the yellowed pages. His back hunched over in fake interest while his eyes fell in the middle of a paragraph. The words were black squiggles as he hurried to process what the book was saying.
"Don't try to hide it, pet. I know what you like."
The implication sent his ears slightly pink. He could try to deny it, but he was pretty sure that Doffy had always known. The lingering gazes on a certain gender had been a thing before they had come to South Blue. He's always have had an inclination to a certain type, and his extra flickers toward prisoners with red hair didn't go unnoticed. It wasn't attraction that made him give a double take towards the prisoners though. The color just reminded him of a dead boy. It was almost unfair that he would have constant reminders.
The blonde man laughed again. This time, Law could see that Doffy had leaned forward, his chin resting on the heel of his palm as he grinned at his protégé. Long, lanky legs folded over the other in total smugness. Behind that perfect, white smile, he knew that Doffy had been planning something all along. He must've had a reason for allowing that boy to live and wiping his memory. This was the first time he didn't force Law to kill when he hesitated, and didn't trip a fuse for seeing such weakness in his family members. Instead, he just gave a quiet look at his protégé. The few seconds were tantalizing, and even more so was the command the blonde had shot at another servant in the basement with them. The nearby servant stiffened at the blonde's attention, but acted swiftly on their heels and dragged the redheaded boy away.
He didn't think that Doffy would make the boy a worker in the villa. The purpose of keeping the boy around dawned on him now, and it made him all sorts of uncomfortable and confused.
"Go out with him to the city," Doffy suggested. "There isn't nearly enough work for him to do inside the house."
Law shifted in his seat. "That isn't necessary."
"You haven't gone out for so long. It'll be refreshing to explore the city. You haven't done so yet ever since we came here. Enjoy yourself."
The man did give a valid point. His hands against the textured cover of his textbook loosened, and he set his book down on his lap.
"Doffy," he began, but didn't know how to continue. He peered at his mentor, and the man gave a teasing smile. His fingers dragged slow lines along the corner of his medical textbook.
"Unless you don't want him?"
The rising tone at the end left an open threat that he would dispose of the redhead then. He didn't really care of what happened to the boy, but that somehow disagreed with Law greatly. The teen looked down below to the redheaded boy once more who had resumed to focusing on the grass.
He didn't care. He knew he didn't care, so maybe it was guilt that made him frown when the oblivious daze in the boy's expression got to him again.
"Okay," he conceded. "Tomorrow."
Law didn't think it was possible, but Doflamingo's grin grew even wider.
When it came to money, Doflamingo was always generous. Law had his own black card and separate bank account that held millions of berries. The money, of course, came through illegal means, but no one ever cared for the fact. The family was well funded, and wasn't that what mattered?
Law and the redheaded servant exited another store after Law lazily gave the person at the register his card. The woman manning the desk had forced out a shaky smile after seeing the emblem on the card and blurted out a nervous thank you as a bell chimed to signify their leave.
Ignoring the stumbling goodbye, they merged back into the wide streets. As they walked, he shot brief glances at the signs hanging at the top of the shop doors. Usually, he was finicky with shopping since he always wanted the best so it was with practice that he eliminated many of the lower quality businesses. By now, he would have dismissed over half of the establishments, but since he wasn't going about in the main square of the city with a purpose, he let himself gravitate mindlessly to everything that caught his faintest interest. The whole ordeal barely made it as a slightly amusing activity, but he pushed himself to continue for at least another two hours. It wouldn't look well if he returned home too early.
He had to, as was said, enjoy himself.
Honestly, though, he didn't.
Doffy wants him to go out to the city, fine. That didn't mean that he had to like the excursion. The crowd of humans was making him claustrophobic, and talking to salesperson after salesperson was tiring. He'll just make it look like he amused himself for the smallest bit so that he wouldn't be bothered twice. And having the redhead following behind him to attend his every whim – well, he tried to ignore the boy's presence, if he wanted to say the truth. He didn't want to see his face. He didn't want to hear him speak either because he looked too much like Kid already, and hearing his voice would just – it would – Law cut the thought short inside his head because he didn't want to think about it.
They continued to walk in silence, and he appreciated that the redhead wasn't much of a talker. He was obedient and did whatever Law told him to. Currently, the boy had his hands full with bags and boxes of all the merchandise that Law bought. It was actually a lot so the dark haired teen slowed his pace to accommodate the heavy load. With bored eyes, Law looked around trying to find a familiar brand. Many stores lines both sides of the crowded streets, and he was debating on entering a shoe or book store next. His mind distracted, he gave a slight jolt when a hand pulled at his elbow to draw him aside.
His feet stumbled as his back bumped against the servant's chest. Boxes and bags fell to the floor as the redhead's arms dropped them in favor of wrapping his limbs around Law's waist.
He was about to ask why when the next thing Law knew, a group of kids ran past him. Their arms swung wildly showing no signs of stopping. With the speed that they were going, they would have crashed against Law before they could have stopped themselves.
Law's eyes watched them fly by. Tattered clothes and joyful faces rushed past him, childish laughter trailing behind. They would have been another group of ragtag kids if it weren't for the one person that made his heart freeze.
Flashy red hair bounced with each step and would have acted more wildly if it weren't for the goggle straps holding them down by the kid's hairline. A loose sleeveless tank pressed against the boy's thin body as he ran against the wind. In the brief second that their eyes met, time had never moved so slow.
Unlike the boys running ahead of him, the redhead wasn't smiling. When he turned around to give Law a glance, his lips were bent into a frown. Eyes slowly opening, a glint of annoyance filled the chocolate colored irises. Both their brows rose simultaneously as recognition hit them hard. The dark browns instantly melted into familiarity. Law could see every muscle on the boy's face as they eased from the rigid expression to the surprised revelation. The boy's mouth dropped into a gape. The boy's legs slowed. The moment his feet stopped completely was when time resumed into its normal pace.
The hands were ticking again.
Law remained frozen. He didn't know how to react. There was a little bubble inside his throat that wanted to say Kid's name, but it was stuck. He was too overcome with the fact that Kid was alive. He was alive and standing in front of him. How was that possible? He just accepted the boy's death, but here he was ruining all of the trouble he had to go through to kill every single emotion that arose from the past few weeks. He was angry.
No. No.
How could he be here?
Law matched Kid's dumbstruck expression. He was taking in the scratch along the boy's cheek that hadn't been there before. It wasn't fresh, the jagged line along his cheek a crusty brown. It had been healing, that much he could tell. More scratches appeared right above Kid's left brow, and his right hand was bandaged. The fingers from his right hand were all swollen and tinted yellow from an antiseptic. Law was focused on the dark purple bruise at the corner of the boy's lip when Kid moved to speak.
His heart began to race, a vice grip squeezing his chest as he anticipated what words Kid could possibly say. The bruised lips formed a circle, the first syllable hanging off his tongue, when Kid's head snapped as someone pulled the boy's hand.
"C'mon!" a different boy yelled breathlessly as they dragged Kid with them.
Kid let himself be pulled, his legs restarting like an engine, as he hurried to catch up with the rest of his pack. He gave a meaningful glance back at Law, his face contorting in regret as if wishing to say something, but couldn't.
Law watched him go, his chest squeezing painfully to the point of wanting to rip it out just so he didn't have to feel.
"Master Law, are you alright?" the boy holding him asked.
He couldn't bring himself to respond and stood dumbly bringing worry to the older redhead. The arm holding him slipped from his waist as the boy gently turned him around. Calloused hands rested against his shoulder and cheek as the boy inspected for any injuries.
"You didn't get hurt, did you?" They boy's voice hitched due to his lack of response.
Law blinked trying to push down the surprise and hurt down. Taking deep breaths, he made himself gradually reel back into the moment of what was. The thumb gently rubbing circles under his eye grabbed his attention and he flicked his gaze to the boy standing so close to him. A worried face held him intently trying to gauge his state of mind to figure out if something had happened to make him so quiet. Since the boy was taller than him, the redhead had his head bent, and Law could see how the orange lashes hugged the skin around oval eyes.
The hazel gaze hardened, fretting and overwhelmingly genuine.
Before Law could let himself fall into the tempting offer of comfort, he turned his head and pushed the boy away.
"I'm fine," he uttered under his breath.
He didn't give the boy a chance to say anything more as he went ahead down the street in quick strides.
Kid didn't know. When he had run off to bait the animal that had been chasing them that night, he had booked it without looking back. He was expecting for the animal to go after him in hopes of it leaving Law alone, but when he had gotten far enough, he noticed that there was nothing behind him. He stopped running and turned around only to find himself utterly alone. The silence of the night was filled with his harsh breathing accompanied with the exaggerated rise of his chest. His lungs were burning from the cold air, perspiration lining his forehead.
Puzzled as to why nothing was threatening to claw out his insides, Kid retraced his steps to try and find the beast. Every step he took increased his panic because what if the animal didn't see him run off? What if instead of protecting Law, his stupid antic had made him leave his friend behind to fend for himself against the beast? That specific scenario had him hurrying back to where he had left the older boy resting. His arms fought to push low branches aside as he made it back to the small mound where Law should have been.
When he arrived, the place was empty. Any trace of the older boy and their baby bird was nonexistent. It was as if they just disappeared.
Under the almost complete darkness of the forest, Kid could hardly see so he listened for any signs of life around him. His ears caught the buzz of nocturnal insects and the rustle of leaves.
"Trafalgar!" he yelled.
When he didn't get an answer, he called out again and again. He didn't care if the amount of noise he was making attracted another wild predator. His palms were starting to sweat from worry. Where could the boy have gone? Possibly not far with that injured leg of his. Kid circled around the area wondering if Law had gone to find a different hiding place, but ended up in the same spot he began only to feel more crestfallen.
He was cursing up a storm inside his head when he had sped off and started running to check every single spot in the forest to find his damned foreigner. Hours passed by and his legs were getting tired from running. There was a sharp pain inside his left shoe, and he was pretty sure that he was bleeding at his pinky toes. Still, he wouldn't let himself rest until he found who he was looking for.
Kid found himself walking through a bumpy path when the earth underneath him suddenly caved in. His eyes widened as his arms shot up to grab for safety, but he groped at what turned out to be nothing. His body fell down into the pit, his elbows scraping against the dirt walls. A rock hit the back of his head, and the next thing Kid knew, he was out cold.
When he awoke, bright light was falling over his lids. The intensity of the light prompted him to open his eyes. He did so slowly. Awareness slowly settled into his hazed mind, and so did the aches plaguing all over his body. The back of his head where he had been hit hurt the most, a slight throb beating against his skull.
Kid looked above him and saw a picture of the blue sky through the hole of a circle of dirt. He was quick to realize that he had fallen into a pit, a trap that some hunter had set up. He blinked again groggily and his eyes settled on the figure that had appeared at the edge of the hole from where he had fallen through. The blonde shaggy hair was a familiar sight. Another figure joined him, and it was a smaller, and more condescending entity that he didn't entirely like too much.
"Had a good night's rest?" Bonny asked from above, her arms crossed and looking not too pleased.
Kid answered with a groan. He could hardly move. There was something crusty along his right eye and cheek that might have been dried blood.
More figures gathered at the top of the pit, and soon, people were climbing down the hole with rope and hoisting Kid up back to normal ground again. The rest of the day was pretty much a blur. Heat threw him on his back because his foot was swelling and he couldn't walk. Even though he was out of it, he could tell that the trek back to ocean shore had been a long one. They were far from the shore, but It might have also been due to their slow pace. Heat was a big guy and was fast growing, but even he had his limits and couldn't carry a person for so long. He and Killer switched from carrying Kid every once in a while when one of them got tired. To make matters worse, most of the trip was constituted of treacherous up hills.
There were so many steep inclines that it got Kid to wonder how he didn't hurt himself more than he did when he was running around in the uneven terrain in the pitch of almost blindness.
The salty sea air hit him hard after almost two hours. The pungent seaweed stink rode in the cool breeze as their small band looked beyond to the shoddy, wooden shack sitting on top of the boulders overlooking the waters. The rest of the stray children that lived with them could be seen milling about the house. Someone was hanging up laundry along the two wires they stretched over four wooden posts in what they called as their backyard. The rest busied themselves with household chores. The kids who were outside greeted them casually when they reached their home.
Kid must've looked really dirty, even for them, because a few raised a brow after laying their eyes on him. He was thankful that Heat just trudged on and didn't stop until they entered the house and dropped Kid in his bed. He groaned once he landed. The lumps of his bed brushed up against all the wrong spots, but the whines were ignored as Killer asked for Heat to bring some supplies from the bathroom closet. The blue haired teen came back quickly with a medium sized container that they had thrown all their medical supplies in and gave it to the blonde.
Searching through the mess, Killer pulled out the alcohol and poured some in a clean cloth before scouring Kid's skin with it. The searing pain of the disinfectant promptly woke him up making him hiss, but the older boy would have none of it. He continued with his ministrations and cleaning the redhead's wounds. Once done, he proceeded to rub ointment on any open flesh and wrapped the bigger cuts in a bandage.
Killer chastised him the whole time, but luckily, Kid was too out of it to actually listen. The words went in one ear and out the other. When the blonde was finally done with him, he gave Killer a noncommittal grunt, but he did thank him. It was a hoarse gratitude that he forced out of his parched throat, but a thank you nonetheless. Killer must've known that he was thirsty because Heat had come back with a glass of water at the right moment when they finished.
Sometimes, he thought that Killer was psychic. The boy always surprised him on how far he always thought ahead.
Kid gratefully received the glass and gulped it all down, then handed the cup back to Heat.
"Get some sleep," Killer told him.
A protest was about to start from his lips, but a heaviness that he'd been fighting for a while overtook him. He swore he only allowed for his lids to close once. A hand was pushing Kid back to lie down. He couldn't fight it so he let himself be pushed. The back of his head fell into the familiar mold of his pillow. It wasn't the most comfortable, but his body recognized the feel of his bed and his muscles relaxed. Everything still hurt, but he couldn't deny that it was good to be home. Every bone in body just ached and it craved rest. Before he realized it, he fell asleep.
Kid must've been really tired because he slept for a day after that. He sustained minor injuries, but he was functional. When he woke for the second time, the first thing he did was slip back into his worn boots to start making his way back to the forest. He tossed the musty sheets covering his body and jumped out of bed. The flutter of the sheets blew the smell of antiseptic to his nose, and he huffed at the nauseating smell. His body was covered in the disinfectant so he couldn't even cover his nose with his own hand, and speaking of, his right hand felt very swollen and looked all the way bloated. His fingers were pudgy under the bandages around his hand, and his fingertips looked to be tainted a dark yellow from the disinfecting liquid.
Kid ignored his injuries for now as his mind was still screaming at him in worry. He hadn't meant to sleep for so long. His body just couldn't continue, but now he felt like scum for even taking a wink of rest. He shouldn't have stopped searching because he needed to know, more than anything, if Law was okay. The wooden floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked by the rusty bunkbeds of his housemates. He stepped out of the bedroom and into the dark hallway. Since the candles weren't lit, he assumed it wasn't evening yet.
There were no windows in the bedroom or in the halls so he couldn't tell if the sun was still out, but the time didn't matter. He was heading out either way.
"Where are you going?"
Killer had caught him at the door just as he was leaving. Kid turned around to face his friend, and the older boy was not happy. He had a stern expression etched on his face that said that he wasn't going to tolerate Kid's nonsense.
"I need to go back," he answered in a way that said that he wasn't going to be stopped. He was going whether Killer liked it or not.
The blonde recognized the stubborn fire in his eyes, and the fatigue sunk into his face making him look even older. "Why?" he asked instead of directly chastising the younger boy.
He noticed Kid's knuckles turning white as he gripped the door knob so tightly that it was a legitimate concern that the metal would actually get ripped from their aged wooden door. It was already a useless enough piece of wood. With the amount of chips on it, it was already falling apart and was barely attached to the hinges anymore. They didn't need it to be unable to lock as well. Killer tried to make his anger leave so it wouldn't rub off and hopefully get the redhead to calm down as well. Being rash would help no one.
The tactic worked because Kid stopped trying to pulverize the doorknob. His eyes pierced through the floor beneath his feet as his brows furrowed.
"I need to find someone," he answered frankly. "I need to know if they're okay."
"In the forest?" Killer wanted to make sure he understood.
"Yeah."
"Kid," the blonde was torn on whether or not he should put a comforting hand on him or not. His hand lifted in debate, but returned back to his side when he thought better of it. "Is it that foreigner you've talking about?"
Killer got his answer from Kid's stiff upper lip.
"If it is," he continued, "It's been a day. The forest isn't safe – not for people who aren't from here. They wouldn't know how to take care of themselves with all the wild animals living there. There isn't any worth if you look for him now."
There was a cringe inducing crack as Kid did tear out the doorknob. There was a big gaping hole left on the door as Kid threw the rusty metal to the floor. He didn't want to hear it. Law's dead. He didn't want to admit it, although it was probably true. He couldn't find him last night even though he had been searching tirelessly for hours.
The logical part of his brain was telling him that he should give up. If he continued hoping for the slim chance that the dark haired teen was alive, he'd never find it. He had probably already been swallowed up by an island predator. Or worse, he would find Law's body – dead, mutilated.
Kid pressed the heel of his palm against his eyes to erase the grotesque image. He didn't want to think about it. He wanted to hope for the impossible.
At this very moment, Kid hated himself. He truly wanted to throw himself into the sea to drown because it had been all his fault. Law was urging him to leave when it had gotten late, but like the stubborn brat he was, he laughed off the boy's fear. Kid knew that he could take care of himself here. He was born and raised near the forest so he had no problems feeling comfortable staying past midnight, but he should've taken into consideration that Law was different. He should have used his head to put two and two together that everything was new to other boy. Kid didn't know what Law's home country was like, but it was no doubt nothing like the savage of South Blue.
Everything in the island ran by the concept of, "the strong eat the weak."
Damn it! Why couldn't he have understood that maybe Law had actually been scared? Shit. And he made fun of him for it too. He was such a dumbass. A stupid moron. Law had been right about everything. It was late and there were predators, and shit, shit, shit –
Kid swung the door open and ran. He just ran and ran and didn't know where he was going. His head was still fuzzy and hadn't made the decision if he wanted to continue his search, but he just wanted Law to be safe. He wanted to see him, wanted him to magically appear to assure that everything was fine and he hadn't messed everything up.
Sniffling, Kid didn't take in how far he had gone until he tripped on a root and landed square on his face. Dirt caked his face as he slid through blades of grass. Annoyed and frustrated, Kid flipped himself over to yell at the sky, but stopped when he recognized the tree that he was under. The scream died in his throat as the image of the heavy set branches towered above him like the spread fingers of a hand. It was something about the quiet of everything around him, in addition to the strong presence of the tree, that made him keep still.
His brown eyes stayed fixed on the gently swaying leaves. The way it moved made him feel serene and dried the threatening mist building at the corner of his eyes. Kid wiped the snot under his nose with the back of his dirt smeared forearm. It took a while, but he eventually calmed and fixed himself in a sitting position with his legs crossed. Thinking about nothing, he stared at the quickly moving clouds under the shade of the tree, of their tree, and leaned against the trunk. He tried not to make much from the fact that he was sitting in the spot Law had often sat in. The two thickest roots of the tree cased him on either side like a throne beside his thighs.
Huh, he thought then as he had never bothered to settle himself in Law's spot before. He's such a prince.
Kid didn't roll his eyes, but he was smirking internally because deep down in his gut, he knew the dark eyed boy was still alive and he could make fun of him later for being such snoot.
He chuckled a bit as he thought of scenarios of them meeting again. He thought about what he would say if they did. Sorry for leaving you, didn't quite cut it. Nor did insulting him sounded like a good enough pave way to start a conversation. He didn't think he'd be able to admit that he'd been worried either. You worried me, sounded too attached. Although, why should he worry about that? It seemed like he was pretty much attached now. Shit. No. Law would get freaked out if he knew.
Huffing, Kid plucked a blade of grass and tossed it in the air. He'd be surprised if Law didn't already know. The guy was smart. He must've already figured it out. Or maybe not. Heck, Kid was just figuring it out himself just at this moment that he liked Law more than he realized. Not that there was anything to dislike about him. Law was witty and fun to be around. Plus, he was just so different from everyone that he knew. The attitude and feel that the older boy gave him was just so fresh, and it was nice getting a taste of what was outside of South Blue.
Law would often tell him stories of his country whenever they talked. Words would flow from his mouth like smooth silk, and from them, he would create these beautiful, descriptive images of a place called Dressrosa. He would become enamored by these tales. The boy's tongue would become Kid's eyes, his ears, his hands, and he would even taste the food that the older teen had savored years before. Kid could even close his eyes now and see the falling rose petals and hear the boisterous music of a festival that had been described to him before. Clowns on high stilts leaping over crowds and energetic entertainers in colorful costume and masks filled his head.
Law was such a good orator that he never got tired of listening to him. Once, he thinks, the older boy got him to exclaim that he would drag Law to sea with him on a pirate ship so they could explore the different countries out there. He wanted to be a part of Law's stories. They could have done it as stowaways, and eventually, they would have taken over the ship.
A complete crew needed a doctor, didn't it?
It was so difficult to get the older boy to promise him that he wouldn't let Kid get scurvy. In the end, he still hasn't managed to get Law to say the exact words of a promise, and maybe that's what kept him going and coming to their tree every single day since. The Kid Pirates need a doctor. I need a doctor.
He didn't even notice the weeks going by until he sneezed from all the pollen in the air, the sweet scent of Spring surrounding him, as a hand squeezed his shoulder. Kid craned his neck from where he was sitting on the tree's roots. Killer was giving him a stoic look as the blonde stood next to him. The dark blue thermal he had been wearing since winter was now replaced by a light blue t-shirt hugging his friend's tanned frame.
"What?" he asked rubbing his ruby tipped nose.
"Some of the kids that had gone missing two months ago have turned up. We found two of them at the local markets in the city. Eddie swears that he knew the two girls, but they were pretty adamant in telling him off and calling the police. Ed's sitting out and icing his black eye, but the rest of us are going to head into city to check things out. You coming?"
Kid stared at his friend for a while. The words, "two months ago," had him reeling in the realization that almost a month had passed since he started waiting by the tree. After that, revelation after revelation just started to hit him. For instance: one, Law still hadn't showed, and two, the case of mysteriously disappearing children from the streets that they've been investigating since the beginning of the year was still happening. While he had been stuck in time, the rest of the world was still continuing without him.
It was disconcerting how he had just been gone from everyone, and it made him feel even more alone.
He braced himself against the dark roots of the tree on either side of him to help him stand up. Maybe he needed to move on too.
"Yeah," he said as he dusted the back of his pants. "Let's go."
Let's go.
Just as he's about to move on, the world doesn't let him. Kid goes to the city with five others: Killer, Eddie, Wire, Wesley, Nick, and Nikolai. Those were the guys he hung out with the most, and it sent him feeling better to get back into the old, nostalgic, no-good schemes with his click. Despite the adamant advice of Killer for Ed to sit out, the dark haired boy insisted on tagging along, and Kid was glad for it because their group wouldn't be complete and the boy never failed to lighten everyone's mood.
As they travel to the city market, Kid listens to their bickering. The twins, Wesley and Nikolai, are making fun of Eddie for his amazing shiner, and Ed's throwing back unsparing remarks about their gangly frame. The twins are self-conscious about their thin bodies, almost skeleton like due to malnutrition, and Wire smacks Eddie on the back of the head when he thinks he goes too far.
It's almost too easy, too natural, to fall into step with these guys. They're quick to attract the attention of the city police when they go about snooping for the two girls' whereabouts, and one of the merchants by the stands alerts the city guards. They're called deviants, miscreants of the city, and are soon chased by a group of police officers for loitering and causing a public disturbance.
The adrenaline rushes in Kid's head when he's blitzing through the crowded streets. People are shouting and jumping when they push by the middle class citizens who are strolling about in the city. Some are even offended and shake their fists at them as they run past laughing their lungs out. As street kids, they know how to navigate fluently through a thick crowd and have memorized the fastest street routes by heart. Their feet, quick to disappear against the concrete, make it look like they're gliding. Kid's boots are chaffing against the sides of his feet, but he doesn't care. He continues running, and after what felt like an eternity, he's elated. The gloomy cloud that had been following him around clears, and now, he feels animated. The danger of getting caught makes him feel alive, and he even laughs when they make it from the food markets to the main stores where there is a heavier crowd of people, and Nick brushes by a person so closely that the person behind the stranger has to pull the poor sap away.
The bags that the taller stranger had been carrying drop to ground. The bitter satisfaction of those nice things in the bags getting ruined brings a nasty joy to flutter warmly inside his chest.
Kid follows Nick's lead and runs by the two strangers to see their offended faces, but it doesn't go well. The redheaded stranger carrying the other person is someone Kid doesn't recognize, but the other one – the one with the pale face and terrified eyes as if they've seen a ghost – Kid recognizes. He looked a little thinner. His chin is sharper and the bags under his eyes have gotten more severe, but it was the same face. The fun that he's been having dies like a cold flame. The gears in his head slow, and so do his legs. As if they've run out of oil, his legs come to a complete stop.
His mouth opens and gapes as if he wants to say something. Anything.
Didn't he spend days thinking about what he would say at this moment?
It couldn't just be, "You," could it? Nor the repetition of the other boy's name, or simply the obvious fact, "You're alive." No, those three weren't it, but they were the only ones popping up in his brain.
Kid didn't know whether to be happy, relieved, sad, angry for not being told, or just plain livid. He was glad that Law was alive. Although, he didn't know if the boy was well since the older teen looked to be horribly sleep deprived, but he sure as hell looked dandy in the shopping area while Kid spent his hours in seclusion under a damn tree. His eyes flicked to the arm wrapped around Law's waist and traced it to the face right besides Law's. A displeased teen held the dark haired Northerner, and the show of protectiveness irked him. Irked him a lot.
Kid would have scowled if he had time. Who was that other redhead, and why the hell was he glaring at Kid like he was a nuisance? Yeah, he got that he and his friends were causing trouble right now, but this was different. He knew Law. Law didn't need any protection from him.
"C'mon! Why ya' slowing down, short stuff?" someone snatched his wrist as they ran past him.
Kid felt the jerk and restarted his legs to keep up with the breathless boy pulling him. He glared at Nikolai and his long, lanky legs.
"I'm not short!" he barked.
Just because he was the youngest in their group and still hadn't yet grown didn't mean he was short.
The ash haired boy chuckled in between breaths. "Just keep up then."
"I've brought you a drink."
Law was sitting in the garden behind the villa. He didn't want to see anyone, his mind still reeling from earlier events. Just seeing Kid's face, it was making his head spin. It made him want to go back to the forest to their usual spot and wait for the brat because now, there was a possibility that Kid could be there. The redhead was fine and kicking, and the frustration gnawing at every fiber of his being because he hadn't cared to look, to see, if the boy had been alive had grown to be ten times worse than before. He had just assumed that Kid was dead. He hadn't even taken into account that Kid was tougher than he thought and that maybe he would be able to escape.
Did Vergo even know that Law had someone with him that night? He couldn't have not seen that there was someone running alongside him. Then again, it had been very dark in the forest. If Vergo didn't know of Kid's presence, then did he ever give chase to Kid at all? Had Kid ever been in danger at all after he had ran off to sacrifice himself to protect Law?
The thought sent his head throbbing. He didn't want to think about the what if's. Re-analyzing the event of that night was making him want to lash out, and he didn't want to feel that way. He had done well in drowning out all these ugly emotions. He had thought he had killed all of them, so why did they come back? His mind was a mess, and his hands were gripping the side of his head as if he wanted to surgically remove his brain out so he could rid himself of the chaos.
Eyes closed, he drew his legs closer to his chest. He buried his face in his arms wanting to forget that he had seen Kid today. The encounter was tearing him apart.
Under an oak tree, the swinging bench that he was sitting on creaked as a weight added to it. Law was intent on ignoring the new presence by his side, but after waiting a while, it still didn't go away.
"You know, the people in the kitchen would be upset with me if I bring back a full pitcher. They'd say it was a waste that they even made the drink in the first place."
Law could feel the pair of eyes looking at him, and he picked his head up slightly. The redheaded servant that attended him the whole day was leaning at the back of the bench as he stood behind the swing. A subtle smile was on his lips while a silver plate was set next to Law. A tall pitcher of iced tea and a glass cup stood on the plate, perspiration thick and dripping against the surface of the jug.
The two of them stared at each other, neither of them taking the preemptive action to break the silence.
Law took the time to study the redhead's face. For the first time, he really looked at it. His eyes trailed down the straight line of the boy's nose, the slim curve of his face and square jaw, and how the short cut of his hair outlined his scalp. He could admit that he had some attractive features. Other than the light marks that had been inflicted against him, the boy's skin was even with the slight discoloration of freckles every here and there. A thin scar cut through the boy's right eye from a close call of a whip. Since he was wearing a white, short sleeved shirt, the scars along both forearms were exposed. They were the lasting marks from stitches that were needed to close several injuries that the boy had acquired through torture.
As the redhead rested his limbs against the seat of the bench, fingers crossed together laxly, he leaned in a little closer to Law.
"You don't want me to get yelled at, do you?" he inquired playfully.
To see the innocent eyes so close was such a shame. Law furrowed his brows in an attempt to drive the boy away.
"If you don't want to get yelled at, then throw the tea away in the bushes before you go back, or drink it yourself. I don't care what you do."
Instead of drawing back like Law expected him to, the boy laughed lightly.
"I know I'm not supposed to say this to you or I might get in trouble, but I don't like it when you pout like that."
"You're right. You aren't supposed to speak that way to me," Law bit scathingly.
This time, the boy did waver. Law raised his head triumphantly when the boy turned away to look at the distance and sighed.
"I don't know what's making you sad, but I'm betting it has to do with when we went to the city. You weren't acting like this in the morning."
"If you don't want to serve me, then leave."
"I'm not trying to offend you," the boy tried to placate.
"You're doing a poor job of it."
There was a heavy sigh, and the boy straightened up in defeat. Maybe this time, the redhead would take his drinks and leave. The hope of that was crushed when the boy rose his arms in a stretch.
"I don't know why, but I remember living with a bunch of performers," he grunted in between his bones cracking. "It must have been years ago that I was one of them. I'm almost a hundred percent sure that I was."
Although the boy was convinced of the fact, uncertainty was written all over his face. Law had no doubt he was talking about a remnant of the boy's life before he had been captured. Having memories of a different life compared to what he was doing now as a servant to some rich family certainly would confuse the boy. From what he knew of the memory altering process, the method was far from perfect and would have left a gap in the patient's memory. Their timeline would be whacked, but most of the time, the victims just accepted that there they had being doing one thing in the past and were doing something different now. They might question it for a moment, but the theoretical wall inserted into their brain would prevent the victim from dwelling on the subject for too long.
In the boy's case, he probably had been captured from the streets. As a freelance performer, it was very likely that his band of people had been sleeping in a public place when slave traders raided their little group, tents and all. The lean muscle the redhead sported now made sense. The boy was still young, but defined bumps and ridges was evident through the white cotton he wore, especially when the shirt rode up to reveal his stomach.
"I juggled fire. Did the whole tidbit with spitting it out and everything," he threw Law a boyish smile. "Although, sometimes, I remember myself entertaining young ladies. I've been trained to pick out the ones in a crowd that need the most cheering up. The happier the reaction I got, the better I looked, was what my mentor told me. I guess it's true. I've seen it work every time. When a lady laughs so loudly, the audience turns to immediately love me. They it eat up like I'm some sort of charming. I'm really not, though.
I wouldn't know how to talk to a lady even if they did all the talking. I liked the feeling though – of making them smile, I mean."
The redhead moved so quickly around the bench that Law just saw him kneeling on the ground in front of him. His eyes narrowed even further at the implication. It was such a flamboyant move, certainly deserving of a performance. Law shuffled back so that he was pressed into the back of the bench. The boy's arms were folded in the small sliver of space on the bench in front of Law's leather shoes while the redhead gazed at him.
"I'm not calling you a girl or anything," he continued. "I'm just trying to say that from what I've experienced, a lot of the girls that I picked out from the crowd would often ask me to eat with them after the show. I would have a small chat with them, and more than the initial dance, they seemed a lot happier from the talk that I had with them. I think – I think that people don't necessarily need someone to help them with whatever's troubling them, but they just need someone there to listen.
I won't force you to talk, but is it alright if I just sit next to you? I really don't want you to push me away."
They looked at each other, the boy waiting for Law's response. Law couldn't bring himself to say no after that earnest plea, and the boy looked like he wasn't going to go away until he got what he wanted. He shifted his gaze to the blades of grass besides the boy's feet.
"Do as you please," he grunted giving up.
The boy immediately shot up and twisted at the ball of his feet. Just like his previous movements, the twirl was flashy. In one smooth motion, the boy pushed the silver platter aside to the other side of the bench so he could take its place and sat down. The swing gave a little bounce as the boy plopped next to him.
"Thank you," he said.
Law pointedly ignored him and remained looking into the distance. He resumed to the hunched crouch that he had been in before the boy had come and hugged his knees. The rest of the time was filled with silence as Law didn't bother to speak. The servant could do whatever he wanted, but he would leave sooner or later when he realized that nothing was going happen. He wasn't going to pour his problems to the idiot, no matter how much the boy would ask. He couldn't. Not much could be done anyway with his problem. When you find that the person you had thought was dead was actually alive, there wasn't a solution to be made because it actually wasn't a problem.
In his case, it shouldn't be a problem. He should be happy, but it was as if there was this unspoken requirement that he should do something about finding Kid being alive, but he didn't know what. What would a person do after that realization? Did he have to do something about that newly attained piece of knowledge? Did it have to change anything? Law didn't know.
After a while of trying to find an answer, his mind dulled and he was soon just staring blankly at the far away hills. His eyelids drooped in lethargy. Not having moved for so long, his body began to feel heavy, but the hurt and confusion that he had been dealing with lingered. The turbulent feelings stayed inside his chest wreaking havoc. Tired, Law let his head droop to the side, and he felt a hand snake through his hair and cup the side of his head. The hand was warm and pulled him closer to a body of heat that felt comforting when he was at a loss at everything.
He gave in to the welcoming heat and allowed the hand to press his head further to lean against a shoulder. Involuntarily, a weary breath left his lips and maybe, he thought, that he should just leave everything as it was. He didn't have to do anything about Kid being alive. They were both fine before they met each other. It shouldn't be different if they didn't meet again. Their lives were too different. Kid would never have a place with the Don Quixote family, and Law would never fit in with the rough group that Kid lived with.
It was fun for a while when they had something in common. Now that their Flycatcher was dead though, there was no reason to ever associate with the boy anymore. Shouldn't it be fine like this, too?
The more Law stayed on that idea, the tighter his brows drew together, his mouth bending obtusely.
Concentrated in thought, it took a while for him to register the moist pressure against his forehead. When he did, the tension in his face fell, and his brows jumped high to his scalp. His head jerked upwards to look at the boy leaning close to him, his eyes blinking in stunned bewilderment.
The servant pulled away slightly the same time he moved, and there was a light blush filling his cheeks. His pale complexion made the flush that much more noticeable, the blooming pink growing and hiding his freckles. There was a slight worry etched on his face as if the boy hadn't meant to kiss him on his forehead. The hand in Law's hair recoiled and rushed to gripping the back of the bench just so it would be touching the younger boy directly.
"Sorry," the redhead started. "I, uhm, I just saw your face and I couldn't help it. I didn't know what I was doing, but you just looked so miserable. I had to do something. Sorry. I wasn't – I didn't…"
The boy stuttered nervously and looked down at his hands guiltily.
Law watched him fidget as his heart raced in a rhythm that had him at the edge of his seat. It was a slow type of rhythm, but every single beat was powerful and sent a slow burn in his chest. He had never felt the sensation before, but he felt nervous on top of anticipating for something else to happen. His hand touched the spot that had been kissed, and found that he actually liked the feeling when the boy's lips were against him.
He remained quiet, not even attempting to calm down the redhead who looked like he was going to lose it if Law didn't say anything soon. He reached over the older boy and tugged on his shirt to get his scattered attention. The mutterings stopped when the boy looked at him and awaited the reprimand, the threat, or whatever spiteful thing that was going to spew from his mouth. When the words finally came out, the impact sent the older boy a little dumbstruck. He stared at Law unsure, but Law just tilted his head in earnest.
"I liked it." When you kissed me, wasn't said. "Do it again."
The older boy bit his lower lip. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," he answered without hesitation.
The boy still didn't move. For a moment, Law thought that the servant was going to refuse, but the next second, the boy was leaning in. The hand returned to the back of his head, fingers raking through his dark hair, as the soft lips pressed to the middle of his forehead.
Law's eyes closed as he focused on the feeling of the touch. His nose buried into the boy's neck as they drew close, and he could smell the soap that was used to wash the boy's clothes. The fresh scent of clean linen mingled between them.
It was all too quick when the boy pulled back, and Law opened his eyes to look at the boy. Hazel eyes were staring back at him, hesitation still filling the light irises. They stayed liked that, their faces inches apart and looking into each other's eyes as both of them were too afraid to move and unsure what to do next. Law's heart was throbbing even louder, and he was afraid that his heart would jump out of his throat.
The redhead's spare hand touched Law's chin and tilted his head up. Hot puffs of breath blew at his face as the boy leaned in again, and this time, their lips connected in chaste meeting. The pink flesh against his own was slightly chapped, but Law was filing the sensation of their joined lips into the deepest parts of his brain. The kiss only lasted for a short moment, too short, but satisfying in an odd way that twisted his stomach in knots.
A thumb swiped the bottom of his lip urging the younger teen to open his eyes. When Law did, the older boy was gnawing at his lower lip again.
"How old are you?" he asked nervously.
"Fourteen," Law answered.
A relived sigh escaped the redhead as he hung his head. "That's good," he exhaled. "I thought you might have been younger."
"Why?" Law asked confused why the boy was so reluctant.
The older teen slowly lifted his head up to peer at Law. The pink had never left his complexion. "Because I'm fifteen." He was looking away again, his mind mulling over how to carefully phrase what he wanted to say. "Have you ever kissed anyone before?"
The question sent Law's muscles to stiffen. No. He had never kissed anyone before. He had always been distracted with his studies to do such a thing. His mind was always somewhere other than building relationships with other people. He's maybe perhaps had a thing with another boy in Dressrosa, but that was barely anything. It was just playful glances and teasing, but never anything more.
Noticing the how the younger boy had clammed up, the boy hastily continued.
"I wanted to know because if you don't want to…"
Law let the drumming in his chest win over.
"I want to," he said interrupting whatever pretenses that was making the boy pull back.
Maybe too eagerly, he clung onto the fabric of the redhead's shirt and pulled him towards him. Lest the older teen started to mull over his doubts, Law took the dive to initiate the next kiss. He shifted in his seat readjusting his legs so that he could twist to face the other boy better. Clumsily, he pressed their faces together, their noses hitting.
He could feel the redhead smile at his enthusiasm, but it was obvious that he had no idea what he was doing. The hand at the back of his head pressed more harshly at his scalp as the redhead took the lead and deepened their kiss. The other hand guided Law's right arm to wrap around the boy's neck, and getting the gist, he made his left arm follow so that he was cling on to the redhead's shoulders.
The boy opened his mouth sucking on Law's lower lip making the younger boy gasp. His fingers dug into the redhead's collar as the older teen angled their heads and continued sucking. Priding himself as a fast learner, Law mimicked the boy's ministrations and soon got lost in just trying to feel good.
The ache is his chest was starting to feel enjoyable, and maybe, just maybe, this was much better than the worry he had been drowning in before. This feeling didn't hurt. The hand rubbing at the back of his head and the other drawing small circles at his waist was something that he could throw himself in, and it made him forget what he didn't want to face. There was no Kid, no Vergo, no Doffy that he had to worry about. It was just him and the boy that's doing everything to just make him smile.
It was just roaming hands and hungry lips tasting each other.
"Where are you going?!" Nikolai was screaming after him.
Kid was running as if this were his last chance. He gave a glance back to the boy's gawking at him as if he was crazy.
"To the city!"
He increased his speed determined to finally find Law now that he knew he was alive.