The next week was relatively quiet, each day there was something small that Beilschmidt would do to try and trip me up, every time he would walk away with the glimmer of a challenge in his eye. When he wasn't working, which was most of the day, Beilschmidt would be either talking on his mobile or spending time with his brother Ludwig.

Lovino's eye turned from purple with green encircling it to a greyish blue with yellow, and he poked at it as we escorted Beilschmidt to the terrace where Ludwig would be waiting. After one particularly vicious poke and a consequentially extravagant wince, Beilschmidt whipped around and gripped Lovino's hand tightly.

"Stop it." He whispered and I watched his hand shake, fingers twitching almost erratically.

"Stop it now, or I swear to god I will-" He cut himself off and released the hand. Blood flowed again through Lovino's hand and we all watched it return to normal colour, the hall we were in was suffocatingly silent.

I looked at Beilschmidt and was surprised to find, for the first time, the mischief that had always danced and make his eyes crack with electric euphoria had disappeared and his forehead was specked with sweat. I weighed my options on how to deal with my hypothesis, and surveyed the area.

Beilschmidt was still staring somewhat blankly at Lovino's hand and Lovino watched his boss like a frightened animal.

I stepped between the two smoothly, and Lovino took an almost inaudible shaky breath in surprise. Beilschmidt blinked slowly but his eyes flicked up to my face faster than I would have expected, he raised a pale brow.

"You are sick, sir." I said, and waited for his eyes to get fiery and defiant, his hands to twitch and his posture to straighten, but instead he continued to look at my face in a lost manner.

He took a long deep breath and let it blow over my face, my hair travelled a little in my peripheral vision.

"Take me to bed then Matthew." He said in a tired voice, and didn't spare a look at Lovino as he moved past, entwining his hand in the fabric of my shirt and pulling me loosely along beside him.

We made our way down the hallways silently, but Gilbert's breathing grew more rattled and laborious as he moved until his grip tightened unwaveringly on my shirt and he pitched forward, his already half closed eyes falling shut in his descent.

His body curved around, still gripped onto my shirt and I caught him with ease, but almost stumbled when I felt how incredibly warm he was when he pressed so closely to my body, seeping heat through my shirt.

I stood and waited for the feeling to fade but it got hotter and I stumbled forward trying to shove my consciousness onto my ailing charge and not the searing warmth that seemed to burn my skin and made me all too aware of my own heartbeat.

I walked as smoothly as I could to the door that would lead to Gilbert's bedroom and fumbled in the codes that would unlock the door, doing anything to keep my mind astray. We moved swiftly and I supported him only long enough to drop him onto the mattress before trying to step away, and I was pulled violently back down by the hand entangled in the black fabric of my shirt.

I bit back a startled sound and tried prying the clenched fingers away from the silky material but they stayed fast, I couldn't move them without consequently hurting Gilbert.

I knelt down by the bed and watched the room, it couldn't be worse than that first night when he had told me not to sleep, but this would require my staying in this position for a period of time detrimental to the structure of my legs, crouching like this would also prevent the mobility and reaction time by a percent I wouldn't even consider.

I stood up, noting the hand hadn't lost it's grip in the slightest, and slowly crawled across the bed, sitting cross legged beside my charge on the silky bed covers. I pulled my gun out and set it across the blankets, taking out the magazine slowly with a click and setting myself to the task of disassembling and re-assembling the weapon at competing speeds. Almost half an hour passed of this, and I had since started monitoring the phone calls Gilbert received and taking notes of the times he had missed calls and from whom they were from.

The sky darkened and I watched from the reflection of the mirror, as the clouds became restless and warring. Lightening had just started flickering across the sky as Gilbert moved for the first time since he had yanked my person back towards the bed, rolling over in a horrifyingly fluid movement and resting his heavy head in my lap and wrapping his arms around my upright torso. I was startled into stillness with my hands up in the air; I looked down on his silvery head of hair as he drooled a little on my leg and for the first time, felt a little warmth on the inside as well.

It scared me.

I jumped a little as I struggled to find a way to free myself, my movements got jerky and hurried and my thoughts came louder than normal, ricocheting across my mind. I clasped my hands over his head and abruptly released them to push my hair out of my eyes. I tried to monitor my breathing but felt my nostrils flare a little in my internal and increasingly external panic.

I ran through ideas as they bounced and rebounded back into my consciousness: won't work, can't work, won't work, won't work, won't work. I almost hit something when the idea slammed into my head and I reached over to press into the spot on Gilbert's neck that would immediately immobilize his muscles, and sighed when his arms dropped around me, his head fell more heavily into my lap, and I lifted it carefully away to set on a large soft pillow behind me.

I slid off the bed and ran across the room, pocketing my gun and clenching the other hand into a painful fist to stop it from shaking.

I slid through the wardrobe that connected our rooms and almost tackled Lovino to the ground in my speed to get away.

The Italian jumped away at the last second, and his hand slid away from his gun quickly as he recognised who stood in front of him.

He breathed out and quirked an eyebrow, letting his eyes rove up and down my body and settling on my face piercingly.

"The fuck happened to yo- know what? I'm not even going to ask anymore. I'm not even gonna ask!" He spun away from me and walked to the wardrobe I had just exited.

"Go clean yourself up." He called over his shoulder, "I got it from here."

He climbed through the passage and I blinked at the silence that permeated my consciousness once again with his disappearance.

I didn't even look in the mirror when I entered the bathroom, I just hurried to the shower and turned the water on scalding, pulled the clothes that clung suffocatingly to every crevice and curve of my body and stepping in around the steam and heat, letting pain be the focus of my mental recall and letting everything else go through the water beating down around me. I closed my eyes.

I drifted.

I couldn't know how long I stood there under the stream of heat and let my mind let go of every misgiven thought, reminded myself of my life's purpose and only goal to complete. I let the water wash everything away.

Alfred laughed at me from a distance.

Hey guys! I hope you didn't think I was giving up on this, it was a rathr long break though. Luckily for you I already have a plan for the next chapter! So lets see how that goes. I really appreciate it when you review. I took the time to write back to every single one of you; even just a smiley face would be fine. It just means a lot to me, you know? Thank you so much for reading this story, I appreciate each and every one of you, it would be fantastic if you could read He Paints the Colour Red, the only finished story I have written. Also if you like games it would be really cool if you would get the game by boyfriend designed it's only three dollars for a really really well designed game and it would mean so much to him to have people show support for it. If you are interested you can find it on www . indiedb (d m)/games/super-hipster-lumberjack or the first link you see if you look up Super Hipster Lumberjack

I love you all so much, you have been such a great inspiration to me to get my life back in order. I owe so much to you. Thank you. –Serena