A/N : IT'S HERE AIYEEEEE! FINALLY DOING IT! And i finally have a stock, so i don't need to worry that much about writer's block. it's almost break time as well, so NO MORE EXAMSSS! YAYY! just hope that I can finally pass all the requirements so that I can finish this, as well as the Number Two story I'm werking on... Thanks again for all of your love and unending support! mwah! Btw, there is RanMasa in here :P as well as RanTaku. Enjoy! :)
KYOTEN CRAP 12
If there's one color Aitor hates right now, it's blue. Ironic, seeing that the murky depths outside the window are the same hue as his hair, but everyone seems to think the same. It's been a day since they've been travelling underwater, and all of them look congested and fed up with seeing bubbles and kelp crowd the circular windows for hours.
"Roman, ruby, eight. Got any of those?" Subaru asks Harry, who shakes his head while drawing a card from the deck.
"Your turn, Victor."
"Why did I even consent to my brother..." He mutters under his breath, as he puts down a blue card with the Roman numeral eight. "Brother, your turn."
"Hmm...I think I'll pass. Arion, have you any?"
"No..." Says the angel as he draws a card as well.
They've been at the card game for hours, and so far, the reigning champion is Rosie. Next to her is Gabriel, and the last place is actually Aitor (because he isn't playing, duh!)
"May I join this round of Trio?"
They all look up to see the warlock, and when he's given the go signal, he takes a seat on the floor beside Harry. They pass him some cards, and he begins playing with them.
"These people need a life," he mutters to himself as he stalks away from the window to the viewing room.
He ascends the narrow spiral staircase, and he twists the hatch to end up on a platform covered by a huge glass dome. It's like being stuck in a snow globe, actually. He watches the school of fish glide over him, and he taps the glass a little when a pufferfish passes by, causing it to inflate and resulting in Aitor victimizing more of the other similar fishes even if they couldn't see him. Everything else is full of putrid green algae crawling over the rocks, as well as jagged corals and anemone sparkling faraway. He also sees sharks passing by, and he tries to count the teeth on one of the hammerheads circling around the submarine. It doesn't matter anyway; there is a shield surrounding the whale contraption, making it invisible to animals and such unless there's a magic spell to reveal the vehicle.
"You must be bored enough for you to count those," a voice remarks as the persona closes the hatch with a loud thud. "May I hang around? I'm kinda sick of the game," he admits, voice kind of far and condensed because of the glass, but Aitor knows that it's still Gabriel without having to look.
"Go ahead. You're probably more interested in this blue stuff than I am," comes Aitor's reply.
Gabriel laughs a little, and his eyes stare at the sparkling waters. "You can say that."
"You don't say. After all, how did you know so much about the Etlancis City?"
Aitor calmly throws the question out, but the air goes stale. Gabriel visibly stiffens a little, but he masks it just as easily.
"My mother told me stories," is all he says before pushing off the railings and heading back towards the latch. "I think I'm feeling better now. Catch up to you later."
Aitor watches as the boy disappears, footsteps bounding farther and farther until they could no longer be heard. Then, the male shrugs and continues to stare at the shadows lurking everywhere.
As Gabriel descends the staircase, he hears noises coming from the hall. Curious, he nears the door, and peeps through the little space.
Another retching sound echoes, followed by dry coughing and soft murmuring. He leans closer, and sees a small boy hunched over the toilet bowl as Victor combs back the brown hair.
"Unghh..." The boy groans as he slumps against the wall, breathing heavily.
Gabriel, noticing that it's just Arion (with seasickness, probably) leaves the two in peace.
"Are you feeing better?" The vampire asks, kneeling in front of the boy who is still breathing heavily. "Drink this."
The man pulls a container from the sink, and opens it to bring out a bubble-like thing. He brings it to Arion's lips. "Just sip it."
The boy, too sick and hazy to think about the logic of sipping a bubble, drinks it like he normally would, and it feels exactly like liquid one he does. Instantly, the nausea is gone, and he rests against the wall to enjoy his peace of mind. However, that peace is short-lived as a huge lurch sends both of them flying to the other side of the room. Victor lands first, catching the angel in his arms as a reflex to prevent the boy from hitting his head on the wall. The submarine lurches to the left, but Victor is prepared.
"Hold on tight," he commands as he carries Arion bridal style and runs towards the door. In a flash, he immediately anchors himself to the doorjamb, leaping to the left wall of the hallway and springing off just in time to land on the other wall and vice -versa so that he wouldn't have to deal with walking on the unstable ground and get tossed around. Arion holds his breath in, clutching on so tight that his fingers are aching, and he only exhales once Victor sets him down on the seat in the main room and fastens on the seatbelt for him.
"Get into your stations! Buckle your seatbelts!" The bear shouts as he bursts from the captain's room, flicking the switches in the main room to get the oxygen masks and flotation devices ready. "We're under attack!"
"Didn't the radar sense it?!" An alarmed Harry asks as he helps his uncle by putting on the co-pilot's microphone and earpiece, getting into the firing station while Jude sets the other weapons on auto mode.
"It's an enemy ship, and they've launched the first attack. Put on the earpieces you will see in the tiny compartment on the armrest. We need those for communication."
Everyone fastens their seat belts after donning the earpieces, and they watch as a gold net starts weaving itself in a force field around the submarine. Then, the inside goes dark.
Arion tries to keep still, but he could feel his seasickness coming back up his throat. He tries to look out the window, but he gasps and almost screams at the top of his lungs if not for Victor covering the boy's mouth with his hand.
There, passing stealthily by the window, is a huge, disgusting, and watery glob with a dark circle in the center. It slinks away, revealing warty pink flesh as it ungulates under the water.
"Is that a squid?!" They could hear Jade ask in disgust through the earpiece, but no one dares to answer when they see the gross tentacles swimming by.
Then, they hear an ear-splitting howl from the creature as its tentacles curl in, eye turning into a slit before it ejects extremely black ink right at the submarine.
"Shit," they hear Wunderbar through the speaker. Just then, a light slices through the only darkness, and a blast of fiery red shoots through and barely misses the snout of the whale by a few meters.
"What the hell!?" Kaiser yelps in alarm, but he can't be heard over the roaring of the engines and the sound of the torpedo firing like a thunderclap when Harry pulls on a trigger in his control panel.
The subamarine starts shaking again, but before any of them have time to complain or vomit, they are slammed flat against their seats, wind somehow rushing past them inside a pressurized vehicle. Arion opens his mouth to breathe, but his chest is so constricted by the speed and the seatbelt that everything feels like slow motion and his limbs are tingling like mad. Then, the windshield from the captain's room turns a blinding white, and a short buzzing fills his ears before it goes completely quiet.
"Arion...you can open your eyes now."
He stirrs, eyes scrunching up before he dares to open them. He sees something approaching his face, and he flinches as something cold is wiped over his forehead and eyes. He looks again to see Rosie smiling at him.
"Thank you."
"Wake u-oh, you're already awake! Must've been a ride, huh?"
The cheerful guy with aviator goggles nested on his wild raven hair lends a hand which Arion gratefully accepts. As he hops to his feet, he sees that his companions are quickly setting up camp.
"How did I get out of the submarine? And what happened to it?" Arion asks in confusion, to which a something soft pats on his hand, making the angel look down and see the blue bear.
"I used the rocket fuel to speed us here, away from the enemy ship and danger. When you passed out, we hit dry land, and I asked Victor to carry you here. I took care of the submarine," he adds at the end before excusing himself.
Arion does a full 360, and he sees that they are indeed in the midst of a jungle, in a small patch of clearing that wasn't obvious at all.
"Start setting up the tents. Supplies go there. Someone fetch the water."
Order after order comes from the boy who calls himself Riccardo. Arion admires how his leadership easily shows through his aura and his actions. Everyone obviously trusts in him and his guidance.
"He may seem strict and stoic, but he's such a wonderful and kind-hearted person..." A girl suddenly appears next to him, sighing in happiness. The stray hair from her braids are flying in the breeze as she looks up at the sky.
"Yeah Rosie..." The brunette replies with a small beam, looking up at the clear blue. He wonders what's happening back home, how school's starting out. Is there even anyone who misses him?
"Arion! Perfect! Is it okay if you fetch the water?"
Skie snaps him out of his slightly melancholic reverie. She hands him a wooden bucket that's a little bit bigger and deeper than most.
"Sure! I'm glad to help," he responds with volunteerism, bidding both girls goodbye as he heads in the direction the raven points to.
As he travels deeper into the bushes, the warm camping sounds are replaced by the serene and lazy forest sounds. Leaves rustle, birds flap their wings, insects buzz here and there, but he doesn't mind nature's gifts; he is quite fascinated by the enchanting air that hangs over the area even if he has to duck the branches and step over holes and roots every now and then. Sounds of rushing water can faintly be heard. He is sure that he is getting closer. Two minutes later, after pushing aside the last bush, he is face to face with a majestic waterfall, springing forth with the pristine clarity of Mother Earth and into the rest of the river, giving life to the nearby plants and exotic flora and fauna that thrived in the peaceful sanctuary.
It is absolutely breathtaking, but not as breathtaking, word-robbing, and speechlessness-rendering as the sight of Victor wading in the waist-deep waters and unwinding under the cascading refreshment that washed all over him.
Well who's the Peeping Tom now?
Try as he might, the angel's eyes are hopelessly cemented on that perfectly toned body glistening under the noon-lit day, fingers raking through his messy hair as his eyes are shut in contentment. It seems as if the world around him doesn't exist, judging by his body language that emits signals of lowered guard. The view is so flawless, so impeccably attractive to the eyes and alluring to the mind that Arion can't help but burn [into his mind] every detail about this picturesque moment that is such a damn turn on. Just a little lower-the brunette catches himself hoping that the water level would miraculously drop to show a little more, and sweet children of buttermilk pancakes he has no idea why his damn hormonal urges have to act on him right now. So much for "maturity" during puberty.
It's getting harder to crouch in his position, not making a single noise, but he doesn't notice it because he's too busy tracing a line with his eyes down Victor's godly torso, following the water drops all the way down each patch of skin on that jaw-dropping six pack and wishing he could follow the line beyond those hips and maybe-urghhhh stop it Arion!
Just then, like a bolt from the blue, the Seraph's prayers are answered as the object of his sinful desires starts to wade back to the shallower parts and back to shore. Oh no no no no this is bad this is bad, his erection is not going to take this lightly so how is he supposed to walk back there with a bulge in his crotch, let alone explain to Victor why he was there and how long was he there? Well his foreign school mates did say something about "jacking off" or whatever that was, but in the bushes? He has no time to think now because the splash of water makes him whip his head in the direction he WAS so desperately trying to avoid.
Fudge.
Arion hated swearing in the name of condiments as much as he hated doing calligraphy, but it is the most accurate word to describe his mixed feelings at seeing the full view of his assailant and savior combined in one irresistible package. Victor Blade: Au Naturel.
All sorts of vulgar titles like the ones on tabloids and R-18 magazines pop in his head. His mouth is hanging open, saliva nearly dripping from the corners as Victor shakes his head vigorously to get rid of extra water, wiping his face with a towel. Just watching him do his personal activities as his tall frame moves with ease makes Arion look at him as a creature of the wild in its element, doing as he pleases without hesitation nor care towards others unless they trespass into his territory He looks so exposed, without clothing or any sort of covering to hide the truth, truly showing the abundance that nature bestowed on him.
Arion spaces out, thinking of inappropriate things about his team leader, but a rustle of leaves alerts him. He crouches even lower on instinct, holding his breath for the longest time and hearing nothing but the dead afternoon. Nothing blinks or speaks or caws or leaps, it's just he and the basin, hoping that Victor would dress up and get the heck away so that he could get some water and get rid of his thingy in peace. And for a good five minutes, nothing disturbs this serenity, so he exhales in relief, getting up on his knees to stretch and-
"EHHH-!"
He gets pulled up by the hair in a split second to face a not so happy Victor.
"What. Are. You. Doing. Here?"
He asked in chopped, well-stressed syllables. But that gorgeous face with those orbs of gold that melted like the sweet syrup on his favorite pancakes makes the poor Peeping Tom stutter like an idiot.
"I-uhh-!" On instinct he blushes a deep tomato red, suddenly looking down at his feet but holiest thing of all things holy sweet mother goose and Peking duck that thing is huge! His eyes widen to the size of soccer balls, never once leaving the gigantic phallus that mocked him by simply being there, at level with his fingertips.
"Answer me!" Victor demands harshly as he props Arion against the coarse tree bark, pinning him by the neck.
"Ah! I'm sorry-! I was asked to get the water!"
The victim sputters out in a jumbled mess, trying not to let himself get distracted by that tempting length.
The other merely growls irritatedly, immediately dropping the boy on the dirty ground. Well at least now the henchman knows what it's like to have his own privacy stripped away in front of his eyes. But nonetheless, his heated glares succeed only in fueling Arion's sick, hormonal, teenage fantasies with yet another splendid view of that thing-that-must-not-be-named, unknowingly coercing his companion to give in to the strong desire of touching it.
Without warning the henchman storms off and throws on his clothes haphazardly. Arion is left befuddled, and he decides to stop being a cute little pervert and get the water as he planned.
As he stares into the clear blue, he can't help but be mystified at how the soft rushing of the water sounds so tranquil. The milieu surrounds him like a warm embrace, wrapping around all of his senses until he seemed to get trapped in his own subconscious. Everything else mutes down to a bleary faraway song, allowing him to focus only on the flow of the river and how nice it would feel to wade around a little. He swears he could hear a lulling whisper in his ear, so close yet so far, telling him to close his eyes and take a little nap by the shore. Yes...a nap sounds nice... His eyes blink rapidly, and he yawns loudly, about to fall asleep until he sees something flash in the river. He rubs at his eyes sleepily, leaning in a little closer to see a sliver of a glittering fin. Hunching over even more, he is whisked on the face by a gentle slap before it disappears.
Now his curiosity is at its limit, and he bends over like a young bamboo, so close that his nose nearly touched its uninterrupted current and he could barely make out a face, a beautiful face with big Bambi eyes, inviting him to join in and play with her. And he can't refuse so he tips over a little more, waiting to feel the splash all around him like a pair of arms pulling him in. It's so close, yes, and he could feel himself slipping away...
Until something grabs him and pulls the angel against something warm.
"Don't touch the water!" he growls with anger and a hint worry when he turns the boy to him.
"Huh-why?"
The brunette questions, dropping the basin on the ground in front of him as he stares into Victor's eyes.
"A siren was luring you in," he continues as he surveys the water, "any human cannot resist their charms. You would be lost forever in the depths of the unknown. Unlike you, I am a vampire, who also feasts somewhat on humans, therefore I am not a potential target."
"Oh..." He blushes upon realizing that he is saved once again. What will be the price this time for saving his ass? To give unlimited access to it?
He could do nothing but stare at his basin, toppled over on the ground as he tries to not look up the still quite naked man dressing up. He looks everywhere but up, but thanks to the extremely clear surface of the river, somewhat like a mirror already, he is provided with a super fine view of that body, from head to toe, like an encore from earlier.
After that, the pants are pulled on and the shirt buttoned up just enough to prevent it from flying but not enough to cover up all of the chest area. He takes a peek again, and his face almost blends in with the poppies nearby when he notices how the thin fabric sticks to the skin and imprints every line and every curve. He furiously whips his head away, not daring to look up even if he knows that it's okay to look up. Now his only problem is his stubborn peeing instrument that refused to lie low. He could even feel it about to drip slowly leaking onto the fabric that surely wouldn't absorb the proteinaceous emission.
As he musters all his strength to come up with a genius plan of un-hardening his member, his companion crouches down beside him to fill the basin with water. Damn those muscles, they look so handsome when they flex, and the henchman's face, with wisps of indigo sticking to the cheeks, mouth slightly parted as the man breathes softly. Arion wants to see those canines. And maybe a teensy part of him even wants to feel them sink a little bit deeper in his skin, just to leave a mark to make sure that he really wasn't dreaming.
"Here."
He is forced to make eye contact with Victor, and somehow it makes him so uneasy, like his heart is in a gymnastics competition with all the somersaults and backflips.
"Uh-thanks..." He squeaks, immediately letting it hang as low as he could hold it so that he could cover what needs to be covered.
Without another word, Victor goes ahead, leaving Arion to catch up. As they travel alone again, the henchman with his handsome stature and the Seraph trying his best to walk without seeming like an awkward duck, they finally reach camp to their relief.
At this point, everyone is just bustling with their own business, chatting and resting. Others are still putting up the tents, others are lounging inside their own makeshift shelters, and some are discussing using the huge map that Aitor carried around. The ladies are hanging some clothes and preparing for dinner.
"There you are! What took you so long?" Skie asks as she approaches him.
Thinking fast, he comes up with a zillion excuses. Too bad he's terrible at lying.
"I was-uh-getting a-a-no wait I was-"
"-he almost fell in the river, and he dropped the half-filled basin in the process."
Both look at Victor with questioning faces.
"O...Kay..." Skie answers. She promptly faces Arion and latches on the basin, attempting to take it away from him.
"NO!" His sudden outburst alarms everyone. He's not willing to let go yet until he finds another cover. "-I mean-it's rude to let a girl carry heavy things! Yeah, uhm, let me help you..." He instantly adds as he walks over to the campfire area.
"Alright! Just empty it into the drinking trough," she calls out distantly before walking away to assist the others.
Arion sighs in relief as he is left to himself; Victor had departed some time ago. He does as instructed, even hanging around a bit and eating the apples he got from a nearby tree.
"Arion!" The small guy, calls out before immediately retracting his hand and scratching his head sheepishly.
"J.P!" the angel replies with a mirthful chuckle as he smiles at the other one.
"I just came here to tell you that your tent is the one over there," he says as he points vaguely to the congregation of completely identical tents. But Arion is pretty sure that the messenger is referring to the big one that seems a little bit lopsided.
"Captain said that we go in groups, so I hope that you don't mind if you're sharing the tent with me and Aitor."
"Oh no! Not at all," Arion insists sincerely, making a little more small talk before his companion is asked to help assemble the logs around the fireplace.
"It's going to get dark soon! We've gotta get the fire going!" Jade hollers all the way from the other side of camp. Even so, the firewood is quickly stacked, and it doesn't take long for Sam Gook to set the dry branches ablaze.
The sky blues into darker hues, as if it's being painted by some magical brush sprinkled with teardrops. The sky is now clear, not having a single cloud. Arion is still mystified because the sky looks so different from the one back in Tokyo. They are all summoned to dinner thanks to Jade banging two pots together like cymbals, and everyone immediately gets out of their sluggish and annoyed states once they sniff the delicious aroma wafting from the huge cauldron over the fire.
"Dinner's ready!" The girl in braids calls out, waving her spoon in the air to signal them to go faster.
"Is that lamb stew?" Riccardo asks as he takes his place beside Gabriel, the tiniest hint of a smile on his face as he inhales the aroma. It reminds him of home.
"Ah! I made it for you, Rick. I hope you like it," she replies shyly, ladling some of it into a bowl and offering it to him with shaky hands.
The others hand out each individual's share as Rick spoons a little bit of it and blows on it to cool it down. Everyone else is already chowing down, some remarking on how great it tasted (like the chubby guy with two crossed scars on his face), others nibbling quietly (like Arion who just can't stop looking at Victor, who was chatting and sort of smiling with his brother). Gabriel doesn't look happy though, and only a sour look of disdain twists his face when Rick swallows the stew and smiles a wide, bright smile on his lips and in his eyes.
"It's really good! I didn't know you could cook, Rosie."
She blushes at the genuine comment; she'd expected a genteel response from such a gentleman, but she didn't know that it could be really flattering.
"T-thank you..." She mumbles, excusing herself so that she could join the other girls.
Gabriel can't take it. Shortly after, he stands up as well, leaving his hardly touched dinner on his seat.
"Wait! Where are you going? Are you okay?" Rick asks with concern for his most trusted friend whose cyan eyes never once meet the other's.
"I'm fine. I just...need a breather," he manages to smile and he breaks away. He decides that maybe it would be nice to go to the waterfall.
In the moonlight, the waters look like melted silverware, and the plants like tangible shadows. He plops down on a nice spot by the riverbank, hurling a stone and watching it skip on the current before it disappears.
"Well it looks like someone's a deep green jellyfish."
The suddenness of the broken silence happens so fast, that the pigtailed right hand man whips around and draws out his twin daggers at once. It's just Aitor. Once he recognizes the lousy but mocking face, all his energy to argue is drained. He just rolls his eyes and sits back down, not even minding when his uninvited company slinks off the tree and sits down beside him.
"I've never even heard of such a thing as a green jellyfish," comes the late retort that lacks so much confident wit.
"Rick looks as if he's interested in Rosie, don't you think? Well since you're the one closest to him, I bet he's bound to tell you something soon. In fact-"
"Just SHUT UP!"
The hotheaded Gabriel springs up, hissing at the scout. All he receives is an annoying laugh and an unexpected unidentified flying object landing on his field of vision.
"OW!" He hisses again, clutching at his eye and glaring venomously at Aitor with the other, eyeing the freshly gathered clod ready to be launched.
Just as he is about to spout some kind of answer, the loam detonates like a mashed potato bomb, this time on his right cheek, and another one follows shortly after, clumping to his bangs.
"He-HEY! STOP!-" Garcia tries again, growling menacingly and swatting at the incoming dirt balls but to no success.
The torrential attacks slowly die down as the remaining earth around Aitor becomes all dry and scratched up, and Gabriel can finally be left in peace.
"What the HELL WAS THAT FOR?!" Gabriel shouts at the top of his lungs, projectiles of steel and arctic ice issuing forth from his eyes when he finally wipes the dirt out of them.
"Oh nothing. Just thought that it was a more creative way of saying 'earth to Gabriel'," says the snickering scout.
"Or maybe," the racket-causing boy continues, "this will cool your head off."
Not a second later a wave of water splashes against the hothead's face. The biting cold paralyzes all the muscles there to the point that he can't yell or growl or grimace or send death threats by glance because the hairs all over his body are just standing on edge. A few moments later his delayed reaction kicks in, and he automatically shakes and trembles violently to get the coldness off.
"WHAT THE HELL!" It's the nth time he said that, and it doesn't surprise Aitor. It just makes him laugh, watching the drenched guy wiggling out of his coat and other dispensable garments.
"What the hell is your problem? Mind your own business!" Gabriel lashes out furiously, trying to comb out the dirt from his hair.
"Look who's talking. It isn't your business who Rick likes, so why are you so worked up?" Cazador retorts, knowing that he's got a point.
"And my reactions are also none of your business," the pinky throws back.
For a while, skeptical hazel eyes stare back. Then he stands up, pulling out a handkerchief and dipping it in the river. Aitor quietly approaches Gabriel, who tries to wipe his aqua eyes without making it obvious, and the scout gently starts wiping the dirt off Gabriel's cheek.
"Well, why are you such a sob? It's what you get for trusting people anyway," the teal-haired prankster tries to say it nonchalantly without sounding more affected than he allowed himself to be.
"It's just...we grew up together. When I feel something for Rick-when I'm happy for him, or sad for him, or angry at him-I feel it a thousand times more than I should. And what I feel towards him..." he refuses to finish the sentence.
Aitor doesn't pry. He simply washes off the dirt anywhere he could reach, and they sit in silence when there's nothing left to do. Only the noiseless wringing of the handkerchief and the well-hidden sniffling are exchanged between the two.
They fall asleep on the riverbank for the rest of the night.
Back at camp, no one seems to notice the absence of the two as the sky blazes alive with campfire sparks. Someone brought a flute and a guitar-thing or whatever it was (Arion never really paid attention during music classes), but nevertheless the air is filled with jovial laughter and merry-making. The chatter and the singing just make Arion all warm inside, and he feels even more comfortable when they invite him to sing and dance.
Arion is suddenly whisked into the partying group, unsure of what to do, until they grab his arms and spin him around, telling him that there's nothing wrong with dancing how he felt like. Slowly, his limbs are tingling with the music, and he's spinning, twisting, skipping around like he's never done it before (which in fact, is really true). Even the usually distant team leader can't help but smile and laugh, walking calmly from his seat to join the line dancing and whatever weird foreign dance they were doing. The only ones left to sit are the ones who were playing the instruments and the Blade brothers. Obviously, Vladimir's legs prevented him from doing anything physical, but Victor just doesn't want to join altogether.
"Stop being a wet blanket," the older one says jokingly as he pats his brother on the shoulder.
"I can't begin to describe why they still have the heart to be so hopeful and happy during a serious mission." Victor replies bitterly. It's not his fault for having such a sad childhood.
"Be more optimistic."
"I'm just going to soil their fun if I joined this party."
"It's called socializing."
"It's called goofing off."
"It's called 'make an effort'."
"It's called 'no one likes me'."
"What a lonely dinosaur."
Victor rolls his eyes. He is just about to make a witty retort, when someone calls his attention.
"Come on and join us Victor!"
He twitches furiously, shifting his angry glare to the person only to be face-to-face with a cheery brunette. The way the fire casts a glorious glow on his already beautiful tanned skin makes him look like a sacred sarcophagus made of gold and precious jewels. For a moment his inviter disappears, only to come around again when the line circles around the fireplace.
"It's fun!" Arion tries again, but Victor is just lost in that honey-coated neck, forgetting that he had enough meat for dinner. The way those fingers grip on the person in front, the way those hips swayed beneath those tacky clothes, the way those legs, those smooth and flawless legs, that were wrapped in those pesky pants just made the henchman itch to carry his little victim deep into the woods like a bandit and rob him of his everything right hen and there.
May the gods have mercy on the vampire's tormented conscience! But the gods are not on his side because Time stops for the two of them, and he reaches out to touch the Chosen One. He barely catches himself in time, only to hold his horses and and haughtily look away. So much for playing it cool.
When Victor religiously rejects, Arion just smiles in an understanding way, continuing to torment Victor by simply carrying on with his seductive saltation. Victor just wants to disappear into the tents (with someone apparently).
Vladimir just laughs it off, singing along like a doofus, which only irritates his brother. The de facto leader departs quietly, and he turns in early for the night. No, he isn't the type of vampire to sleep during the day like most of the people believed. He has a normal sleeping schedule, eats normal food (he just isn't a fan of vegetables), and only drinks blood every now and then when he needs to unlike the other Soldiers of Pentasect who are also vampires and have an insatiable polydipsia for blood. He sits on his sleeping bag for a while, thinking about a certain carrot-top who was meddling with his affairs.
Steam washes all over his face as Sol stirs up the contents of the huge pot. It's almost dinner time, and his company would be piling in the dining area any moment now. With some help from his other lady friends, they set up the table and serve the food just in time. After they say their short thanksgiving, they all proceed to getting their share, heartily eating their meals.
"Sol makes the best stew!" One of the boys with brown hair and two tresses crossed at the back of his head says with a genuine grin.
"Couldn't do it without my friends," the ginger replies with a smile as he sips on his soup. It's tricky trying to maintain a cheerful and worry-free disposition when all he could think about is that cute brunette he saw a day or two ago. Arion Sherwind-such a beautiful name and a beautiful creature left to suffer at the hands of the beast Victor.
He told his friends the day he vowed to save Arion all about the plans of the Blade brothers. And they agreed in an instant. Now, they're working up a plan to win Arion over, but it would take time and the perfect setup. That's exactly what he and his band of rebels are perfect at doing.
It sickens him knowing that he's just sitting around while the two could be doing horrible things. Horrible things he can't even begin to describe. Like how Victor-
-would grab Arion by force, dragging him off to his lair as the begging brunette could only plead for his freedom. The cries are paid no heed, for the selfish monster is hungry and he wants to have a midnight snack. He strips away layer after layer, like how a child unwraps a chocolate bar, first taking off the ribbon, then the plastic, then the cardboard, and lastly the foil-at that point the consumer is most probably so impatient that he doesn't give two shits about anything. He simply slams dear, perfect Arion on the damned bed, hair flattening out like waves against the crisp sheets while strands of brown stick to that angelic face, eyes full of imploring. And he, with his merciless grin bereft of pity, would wait for no chance to pounce as he wolfs down on everything that Arion had to give, taking it all, tasting it all, as he slips between those legs and-
-BAM!
Victor shoots up, hearing a distant explosion just like that. It's probably one of those deer hunters late at night. Or someone popping a really loud bottle of wine. The merry-making is no longer there; everyone must've gone to sleep. Grouchily he surveys his surroundings in the darkness, and he sees a lump beside him rising and falling gently-undoubtedly it's Vladimir. He shakes the drowsiness off, and he suddenly notices how hot it is. He then pulls his shirt over his head, bundling it up and tossing it off somewhere and just feeling the cool nature air filter into the tent and on his white skin. Through half-lidded eyes he sees the moon whenever the flap to their tent folds outwards as the wind blows. It's so calm and serene, bright and beautiful, but so lonely even with the stars as company. The radiance glistens on his skin, making his paper white complexion glow faintly in the dark, like an angel. An angel. As if he was deserved to be called that. If the load of bullshit he's taken in his entire lifetime could be converted to pounds he'd be filthy rich. He closes his eyes, lays down. He counts down from ten, a technique he always did whenever he needed to calm down or to fall asleep without a lullaby.
Ten.
He remembers the first time he kicked the ball. He doesn't know why or what it was, but he refused to stay still.
Nine.
He blew the candles. He was finally five years old, and his par***s said he could have anything, but all he wanted was for them to stay together. Forever.
Eight.
He woke up in the middle of the night, the night he was thrown in the cellars. He thought they would bring him out and apologize, look at him with their kind eyes. He didn't know that those hateful eyes were going to be the last time he saw them.
Seven.
He woke up to nothing this time. He checks the calendar even if he has no agenda or anything scheduled, no party, no event, no nothing because he's got no connection to the outside world. And he's surprised (if there's any emotion left in him to allow him to feel this least bit human) that it's his birthday. And where were everyone in the mansion? Out in the town festival held only every seven years. His father promis-ah fuck Victor, who the fuck gives a shit about the word promise unless they mean to break it?
Six.
His cello is the only answer to the questions he asks. Questions he's known the answers to long, long ago. Each note was a tear that he could no longer shed because every emotion he felt had run dry.
Five.
A noisy creaks disturbs his sleep. He sees a light that he hasn't seen since forever. And it fades just like that when tons of things are being thrown in. He doesn't understand what's happening until he sees broken tables, unused chairs, decors, other useless and antique things. And he recognizes in the pile of junk the stuff from his room. He stares up and is met face-to-face with his fat**r, his f-a-t-*-*-r, who says nothing but this: "my wife needs space for her new sewing room."
Four.
It's getting harder and harder to hold the bow in his hands. His melodies are stiff and broken, like a doll with its limbs torn off, like he, like he.
Three.
He doesn't know how he could live with his conscience sold. He does it for his brother, he's doing this for the people, he's risking everything to overthrow the Holy Empress and save them-save those who called him a freak and a curse, a plague, an omen from the gods.
Two.
Energy is neither lost nor found. But he can't help but feel that every time he spends his energy loving and caring and trying, he's losing himself more and more each day.
One.
And something bursts into the tent, wind flapping and buffeting the makeshift shelter as light rain drizzles down. He sees a frightened Arion, at the threshold, shivering from the cold. Shivering from fear.
"I-I can't sleep. I had a nightmare. Can I...sleep beside you?"
Before he could say anything with rational judgement he reaches over, pulling Arion gently by the hand. He's doing it again, why do you have to be so kind Victor? Maybe it's because he doesn't want anyone to feel the things he is.
Arion gratefully snuggles into the warm chest, and Victor isn't used to this contact on his skin, isn't used to the coldness of his beloved's fingertips.
Maybe Victor sees himself asking for love.
Love.
He was capable of giving it once, and now it's all taken away from him. Yet every time Arion is there-it felt as if he's never loved enough. How Arion could do it so well is beyond him.
Those sweet, pure lips breathing against his shirtless chest makes Victor forget about his shitty life. He wants to know them, he wants to have them. He wants them to press patterns on the boy's skin, leave innocent marks there. He wants to wake up to Arion's desperate kiss. And he wants his angel to sing him sweet things until he falls asleep.
It's still dark out. The sun begins to peek out from the horizon, but the silhouette inside the tent watches it slowly. Should he wake up the others?
"They know," he whispers to himself as the blue-haired man lights a cigar, inhaling the lavender. "And they're coming."
A/N: disclaimer: i don't own InaGo, cuz if i did, yuuichi would be mine hahah hoping to get the next one up soon.
next up : Zabelle screen time :) (oh yiss i still can't get over the fact that i made axel a lady :P)