Chapter 7. writing these chapters takes me way to long. I hope you guys still like it. I don't get many comments so I just write what I think works...please enjoy c:

Chapter 7 : How are you?

Altaïr fell to the ground.

Desmond had always been the only one who could actually spar with him, without being beaten within the minute. He quickly went back to his feet, as Desmond lunged another punch.

"Dude, you told him what?"

"I told you, he was confusing me. I didn't know how to react to him."

Altaïr blocked a kick and tried to punch Desmond.

"So you just told him it was none of his business?"

"It IS none of his business to who I wrote that song"

"You've been writing that song for him all these weeks, you dick. What were you thinking?"

"Well, obviously, he wasn't."

Altaïr turn around to Shaun, who was sitting at the side.

"Shut up, you're not making it better."

Shaun lifted a eyebrow. "I wasn't trying to make it better."

Altaïr fell again.

Desmond started to walk away from the sparring mats. He sighed and sat next to Shaun.

"I think we should fix this." He whispered

Shaun looked up at him. For a moment he said nothing.

"No, no Desmond. I am not going to fix anything. When was the last time he did something for me? And, he hurt Malik, and to be really honest, Malik is more of a friend to me than he is."

Desmond looked away. Altaïr had moved himself to a sandbag.

"Fine." He snapped and quickly stuffed everything in his bag. "But I'm going to do something. If not for him, then for Malik."

Shaun watched Desmond leave. Desmond snapping at him like that had surprised him.

Getting Desmond angry was something anyone rarely did, just to keep him happy and smiling.

Shaun sighed and rested his head in his hands. Why is that kid so cute when he is grumpy?

When Altaïr stopped to look around he saw that the gym was already deserted. Desmond and Shaun must have left without saying anything, leaving him to punching his sandbag. He looked back to the sack.

What would Malik be doing now?

Malik pulled back on the string, feeling the tips of the feathers tickle his cheek. Concentrated, he aimed and released the arrow.

And hit Altaïr between the eyes.

"Wow," Kadar remarked next to him. "You really hate him, you even put him on the blazon ."

Malik turned to his little brother. "Shut up and go get your arrows."

Kadar held up his hands. "Sorry..." He muttered as they walked toward the targets.

As Malik reached for his first arrow, he saw his brother turn from the corner of his eye. But whatever Kadar was going to do or say, he didn't continue and turned back to his arrows.

Malik didn't ask his brother what it was that he wanted to know, if I was important to him, he would ask Malik sooner or later anyway. A sigh escaped Kadar lips.

Okay, maybe sooner then later.

As Malik lifted his bow, pulling at the string, Kadar watched him closely.

"Malik," He blurt out.

Malik lowered his bow, releasing the tension on the string.

"Yes, Kadar?" He replayed patiently.

Kadar gulped

"Did... Did the music academy send you a reply yet?"

Malik looked away. He had been waiting for this question. Since he had told Kadar that he would be going to an European music academy, Kadar had told him that he couldn't just leave them. His little brother and his mother.

Mother had told him that she didn't mind if he wanted to study abroad. He had been saving up for this,and she had helped him get the money together.

But Kadar had always had him around and Malik leaving like that didn't feel right to him. He looked up to his brother and had chosen Malik as his rolemodel.

"Yes, Kadar, they did." Malik finally answered.

Kadar nodded. "And?"

"I passed my entrance-exams." Malik closed his eyes.

"So, your leaving?" Kadar concluded.

"Kadar, I'm not-"

"YOUR JUST LEAVING US LIKE THAT?"

Kadar threw down his bow and ran from the shooting range.

Malik sat down on the ground.

Was this the right thing for him to do?