Authoress notes: Wow. Just... wow. I honestly didn't expect to get a single review, but I guess that's just my negativity speaking. Thank you!! I am going to try my darndest' not to disappoint anyone. I was planning on waiting to post this, but why bother? It'll just be pro-longing the inevitable. I'll try to keep updates as frequent as possible too, but I won't make any promises.
I really hope that whoever is (if anyone actually is) reading enjoys it! I apologize for any out-of-characterness, too. All right, shutting up now!
Disclaimer: Same as always, don't own.
Now, on with the show!
If he stared open-mouthed any longer, Robert was sure his features would freeze and he'd be stuck like that forever. But even forever wasn't long enough to get over his initial shock. The cause of his surprise arched an eyebrow, clearly amused by the noble's reaction.
"What… What are you looking at?" Robert demanded, frustrated that the Russian was enjoying himself at his expense.
The man in question merely shrugged, taking a couple of steps into the room. There wasn't much light, but there was enough to reveal he was still wearing that same smug, superior smile. Robert was tempted to take a rag to his face in an attempt to wipe the smirk away, see if he had anything to smile about then.
"Just relishing this moment. It's not everyday I get to catch the Great and Holy Robert Jurgen off guard, you know."
Great and Holy? Bryan was mocking him, Robert was sure of it. Narrowing his eyes, he looked past his captor and at the open door. It looked so inviting and, right now, he'd like nothing more than to escape the Russian's company, get away from that know-it-all smirk…
But Robert was, temporarily and inconveniently, disabled. He would have to endure the man's intolerable presence until he was well enough to risk a daring escape. Or until Bryan got bored and decided to abandon him in a back alley somewhere, probably in the seedier parts of town. It was at that thought that Robert decided he was going to try and stay in good graces.
Then, another thought occurred to him. "How on earth did I get here?"
"What, you don't remember? I guess I damaged more than just that leg of yours." Bryan murmured, more so to himself than anyone.
"That doesn't exactly answer my question."
"I ran you over," The silver-haired man replied casually, as if it was a common act for him. Robert frowned, wondering about the truth of that. He wouldn't put anything past the Russian. "You know, with a car. You remember what a car is, right?"
"Pah. Of course I do! I'm not a dimwit, and I certainly am not suffering from any sort of brain damage, sorry to disappoint you," Robert snapped, frustrated at the way he was being toyed with. "Better luck next time."
Bryan seemed genuinely confused at the purple haired man's reaction, wondering if all car collision victims acted so haughty when they woke up in the morning. Perhaps it was a German thing?
"Sheesh, you act as if I…"
"Hit me with a car?" Robert offered, folding his arms across his chest.
Bryan cracked a smile, a genuine, all-around nice guy smile. It didn't suit him, not one bit. The Russian let a small laugh escape his throat before he turned on his heel, heading towards the window. He pulled back the curtains, revealing a slate grey sky. The sun was once again lost in the mass of dark clouds.
Robert watched warily as the other man made his way back to the bed, leaning one arm over the bed post to support his weight. The smile Robert had come to hate within the time span of five minutes had returned, slowly, and he couldn't help but feel a little small. It wasn't a good feeling, having someone stand over you, just leering like you were the lowliest of life forms. It was all he could do to ignore it.
"Why did you bring me here? Surely, if you thought I was as badly injured as you so hopefully had," Robert paused to glare at the man opposite him, "you would have taken me to the hospital?"
"I thought I'd take you hostage and demand a large ransom for your safe return."
Robert's eyes widened, alarmed at the mere thought. It wasn't the fact the Russian would probably do what he claimed that shocked him, he expected as much. It was the thought of returning home that made him distraught. He visibly paled, wondering if he had already made the demand. What if they were on their way to get him? What if they were already here? What if he was surrounded and this was all just an elaborate set-up to get him to cooperate?
The delightful sound of Bryan laughing snapped the noble out of the train wreck that was his inner thoughts. When he lifted his crimson gaze, it was to see the dark haired man laughing, yet again, at his expense.
"Wow, I didn't think even you were that gullible." Bryan snickered. "But believe me, I did think about it. Then realized I'd rather not deal with that uptight family of yours." As an afterthought, he added, "No offense."
Being offended was the least of Robert's worries at the moment. Though, he did feel a little better knowing he hadn't been sold out. "Then… why?"
"Because it would have left a bad taste in my mouth if I had left you out there. If the civilians didn't find you first, then the strays probably would have. There wouldn't have been much left of you to be able to get an identity if they had," Bryan paused, finding something amusing about the whole predicament. "You really should be thanking me; I did save your life after all."
"Oh, thank you, Bryan Kuznetsov, for mowing me down with your car, kidnapping me and then leaving me in unbearable pain while you take extreme pleasure in watching," Robert snapped again, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. "Is that not thanks enough? Or perhaps you'd like me to grant you a title as well? How about 'Lord Bryan, The Smug Tormentor'. Is that to your liking?"
Robert's uncharacteristic ravings continued to amuse Bryan to no end. He had made a mental note to 'accidentally' run over more nobles the next time he was bored. The entertainment value was priceless.
"Actually, I like it a lot. When do I start?" Robert's stunned silence was enough victory for Bryan. He shifted his weight again, absently flicking a few strands of stray hair from his eyes, his gaze lingering on the German. "You look like hell. Are you in pain?"
Sighing exasperatedly, Robert decided if he wanted to survive the next few minutes he would have to effectively tune out the other man, completely. He couldn't believe the way he was being treated. But then again, it didn't really surprise him. The moment Bryan had waltzed into the room he had expected to be tied to the bed, locked away in the room, never to see the light of day again.
So, in a way, he should be grateful his expectations hadn't come to fruition.
"You still didn't answer my question," Robert grumbled unhappily.
"Which one was that?"
"Why here? You're not exactly known for your hospitality, so surely abandoning me at the hospital would have been less hassle for the both of us."
Bryan seemed to think about it and, for a fleeting moment, Robert feared he might actually take his statement seriously. "I didn't see the need to. I assumed that your leg was broken, but that was it. There was no bleeding, nothing else to indicate your life was in danger."
"Oh, a broken leg. How lucky for me! I hope you know moving me might have caused irrevocable damage, you dolt." Robert grumbled. "If I'm not able to walk again, I demand you donate your left leg to me. It's only fair."
This caused Bryan to laugh once more and for the first time in the past twenty minutes, Robert relaxed, if only slightly. "Don't worry. I'm not even sure if it is broken."
"You're not sure?!"
"Stand up and let's find out, eh?" Bryan grinned deviously, savouring the defiant look that graced Robert's face. "But if it turns out that it is broken, and my stupid act of righteousness leaves you in a wheelchair then I, Bryan Kuznetsov, vow to you, Robert Jurgen, that I will graciously give up my left leg for you." After a moment of pause, he added, "You'll have to find me first, though."
"Ha-ha. You're hilarious." Robert rolled his eyes.
"Also," Bryan hesitated, wondering if he should bring up the other 'issue'. It really was none of his business, but it could be important, and he had to admit, he was more than a little curious to inquire about it. He eventually decided that he'd rattled the noble's cage enough that once more wasn't going to hurt. "You were muttering. Something about an 'Aloisa' and how you wanted to lock her up in the dungeons."
Robert's eyes narrowed, somewhat dangerously, at the sound of the name escaping the Russian's lips. He had forgotten about that little problem of his and was in no mood to start brooding about it, least of all to his Russian captor.
"I'm assuming you're not here on business." Bryan mused, shifting his thoughtful gaze to the sickly-coloured roof. "You would have been swamped by a mob of bodyguards or something. And you certainly wouldn't have been wondering around in the rain, either." He stopped, returning his gaze to the glaring German. "So, Robert, what brings you to Russia?"
Robert chose to ignore the question. It wasn't like he had an obligation to share his motives. He'd rather chance surviving a guillotine than share his problems, his inner turmoil, with anyone, especially someone he wasn't well acquainted with. So, as a way of avoiding suspicion, he changed the subject.
"And what, may I ask, were you doing driving around like a maniac in that horrid weather? Thrill seeking?"
The Russian grinned and fixed him with a critical gaze. Getting bored with standing up, he seated himself on the end of the bed, placing his elbows on his knees, his head resting in his hands. He could tell his presence unnerved the nobleman, a fact that continued to delight and amuse Bryan considerably. He really was like a tormentor, wasn't he?
"You have your secrets, and I have mine." Was all he said.
Conversation had ceased there, at least for the time being. The sun was peaking through the sheet of grey, sending thin shafts of light into the room. It had begun to rain again, a light drizzle this time. The soft pitter-patter against the window was all that kept the silence drawing out too long.
Sighing, Robert shifted his position again. He visibly paled when he realized his injured leg hadn't miraculously healed in the short time he had been conscious. The pain was raw, fresh, and still hurt like hell. He bit down on his lip to stop himself from wincing out loud, and turned back to his original position. His reaction didn't go unnoticed by the Russian, however.
"You really are hurt," Bryan frowned, leaping to his feet. His apparent concern surprised Robert, who just blinked dumbly. "I'll try and get some pain killers. In the mean time… Don't go anywhere."
Cracking a smug grin at his own joke, Bryan left the room in four paces, his footsteps fading into the distance. Somewhere in the house, a door slammed, signaling that once again the house was empty, save for the disabled German.
Frowning for the umpteenth time, Robert settled back against the pillow. He hadn't noticed how tense he had been until the other man had left. Odd. He mused briefly, wondering if Bryan really had gone to get some medication, or if it was just an excuse to desert him, never to come back. That really shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did. He shouldn't care if he never sees the Russian again… should he?
He was disturbed when he found he was undecided on the matter, so he merely shook it off as fatigue taking over. Perhaps he should rest. He hadn't noticed how exhausted his body actually was, and he had used more energy than he should have exchanging bouts of words with the slate haired man.
Of all the people… It had to be Bryan Kuznetsov…
He sighed dramatically and eventually allowed his body to be claimed by sleep.