The Hitman and His Consort

LVIII - Trudge

First Person P.O.V: ARTHUR DELAVINGE

After that was another half an hour or so of us just drowning in skinship. It’s not that I’m clingy, but Siberia is cold as hell. He laid back on the bed, forgetting his own suggestion to get breakfast unless he acknowledges a cup of coffee or cocoa as breakfast. His body leaning against the wooden headboard with pillows cushioning his back while I nestled myself as close as I could to his chest.

Realizing that I’ll need more than this 7-ply sweatshirt of his to keep myself warm, the blanket was doing a good job but it’s still cold. It must take some real dedication to stay in this country to look for two trail-less individuals.

“Your hands are ice cold,” he noted,

“Yes…I’m aware,” I replied, my jaw starting to shiver as I spoke, making him chuckle because of course, he will find this amusing,

He then bound the blanket around me like a burrito wrap before carrying me in his arms, bringing me to his living room, and sitting me on his big recliner chair. He started chucking chunks of wood into his fireplace and lit it up, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders once the flames started to warm up the place. He glanced at the clock and sighed.

“Got somewhere you need to be?” I asked as the feeling of warmth started to reach under the clothes,

He shook his head, “Not something important,” he replied,

“So you do have somewhere to be,” I remarked making him shrug,

“It’s just work,”

“You do know that work is kind of important and you can’t just bail on it,” I reminded, making him scoff as he paced around the room looking for his phone,

“Sure I can, I just need to tell Kavon I’ll cover his shift tomorrow if he covers mine today, my other only concern would be Sofya,” He replied, clicking his tongue once he found his phone and started texting, meanwhile I’m still hung thinking of the word ‘Sofya’.

‘Is it a name? It sounds like a name, a girl’s name? I’m not really sure,’

I cleared my throat before speaking again, “Sofya, huh?” I began, and he hummed. I was expecting him to elaborate on it but he just kept his face glued on the phone as he typed, it must be nothing serious…

But it does sound like a name, like ‘Sofia’ maybe? Is that what it is? I wasn’t going to acknowledge it, but Valya’s got an accent in his English now, so maybe it’s something different? I mean, I suppose I wouldn’t mind if he had some prior arrangement with someone else. I did come without notice whatsoever,

However, it kind of depends on what kind of arrangement we’re talking about here. What if it’s a date?

‘…Nah, it couldn’t be…right? But he does seem more affectionate now…’

No, it can’t be. He seemed like he was genuinely happy to see me, but why do his words about being able to memorize how other people acted echo in my ears? No, maybe it’s just a close friend of his, someone he meets to confide in, like how I do with Rodrigo. Yeah, maybe that’s all that it is.

Because if I happened to get caught up in an existing relationship between him and someone else and turned out as the third party that ruined it, I’ll personally see to it that Valya will no longer stay amongst the living.

“…thur….arth…Arthur, мой король!”

“Ah, yes, what?” I blurted out, flinching back to reality as I was violently pulled out of my spiraling.

He tilted his head at me and walked closer, “are you alright?” he asked. I nodded, and he hummed, placing a hand on my cheek before looking at the clock again.

‘Whatever he has to do with “Sofya” has got to be importa—okay, clam down, it’s not a big f*cking deal,’

I mentally cursed myself to give myself a reminder to be cool about it. Damn it, I hate this. I should really stop acting like this, this city is zero degrees Celsius cold and I still couldn’t stay chill. That’s embarrassing.

“Arthur, what’s with you?”

“Wha…whaddaya mean?”

“I can see your eyes diverge as you zone out, what do you mean ‘what do I mean’?” he retorted with a smirk as he leaned close for a peck on my forehead before heading to his kitchen. Maybe he’s going to make breakfast for real now. If only this weather didn’t make me turn into a really cold hermit crab, I’ll help around.

‘But… It’s too much for a woman whose guts he rearranged,’

That sounds so wrong. Let’s never say those words and birth them in the real world.

“What did you eat at babushka’s?” he asked from the kitchen, I heard some clanging and clanking porcelain and metal as he moved,

“Babushka?” I called back, who—oh, grandmother, granny from next door, “I ate that pancakes thing with some stuffing inside,” I replied and he hummed, not saying another word. I nuzzled deeper in the chair and clutched the blankets closer. I’ll need to contact Madeline soon, tell him I’m alright or I won’t hear the end of it. Ever since Valya left, Madeline’s been extra fussy about everything.

Moreover, when he and August finally found covers to at least live in a distant and more rural location to start their family, thus Luca was born, he’s four now, not even our parents know about their first grandson. We contacted my siblings and even our youngest, Ludwig, is already out of the main house.

Must be hard for my father to live the rest of his life without having anyone else to blame for his actions. Now that I think of it, most of my deepest scars are made by the sh*tty men I’ve met throughout my life. That’s something to ponder on. Should I just wait for Valya to f*ck up before I leave this arrangement of ours?

‘Eventually, right?’ I thought bitterly, it’ll end up with fights and arguing anyway and I’ve experienced it before so I probably wouldn’t be so affected in the second time, right? I should just wait it out. I doubt there’s a better ending for us apart from that. However, this time it’s not just him at fault… I’ll also take the blame.

Because this wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t make a great deal of effort to reach this point.

‘Ahh… I love overthinking. Look at the great lengths that I achieve with just my head!’

I scoffed, trying to sit up straight and stand to reach over to my thick padded jacket on the ground. I left my phone there. Just then did I notice the way we shed our clothes. It’s like we left a trail on the floor with every garment we had that lead to his bedroom. That’s kind of embarrassing.

I sighed, I couldn’t reach it if I stay in place, so I just wrapped the blanket around me and leaned on the chair’s armrest for support as I stood up.

‘Augh…whew that’s an interesting spot to feel pain,’

I winced as I took a few more steps, starting to build up a tolerance to it, I started with my jacket and pulled my phone out before picking up the other pieces of clothing that littered the floor until the heap was gathered on my arms. There was no other spot to put it on. There’s a round table in here that’s placed close to a window, but it feels wrong to just dump these on there.

There was no couch and the only piece of furniture other than the recliner was a nightstand next to the fireplace, but it’s occupied with a lamp and some books.

How peculiar.

“What’re you doing?” I heard ask from behind me, how this man could remain shirtless in this temperature is a wonder,

“They were on the floor, that said, where can I put them in?” I asked,

“There’s a bin in the bedroom, but hand them over I’ll put it there,” he replied, offering his hands out to me, but I shook my head.

“I got it, just focus on what you were doing,” I said back and walked back to the bedroom and put them on said bin. Now that I’m here, he wouldn’t mind if I borrowed some pants, right? I’ve been walking with my lower half-naked for so long, I think my egg cells are frozen and preserved to last me for about fifty years until intended use.

I rummaged through his closet to see a wide array of clothes in different hues of DARK. There is not a single bright color. There’s a green sweater that’s too dark it could pass as black. What is this? I think he’s already wearing the liveliest color he had, a pair of pants with a really muddy color of maroon.

He also had a suit. Multiple ones. I mean, he does look good in a suit.

Shrugging, I just pulled out the thickest pair of sweatpants he has, which is black, and put them on. Luckily it had strings or it’ll slide off, they’re already too big. It bunched up to the floor even though I tied them up on my waist instead of the hips. The blanket still draped over my shoulders for extra layers and warmth, I also took a sweatshirt for Valya cuz’ no one should be walking around shirtless in this weather.

Now leaving the bedroom with extremely oversized clothing, I trudge to the kitchen, seems like he’s making pancakes, the plain ones, his phone still on one hand as he cooks with the other, he turned to me the moment I walked through the doorway,

“What’s up?” he asked before looking at me up and down,

“I borrowed pants, and you should put these on,” I replied, handing him the sweatshirt.

He smiled as he put his phone, face down and started putting on one sleeve after the other. He huffed as he pulled it down and gave me another kiss on the forehead before going back to cooking.

I went back to take a seat on the recliner, phone on hand, and sent a message to Madeline. Not even a few seconds later my phone rang and as with Madeline’s name flashing on the screen, this man is putting his max-level of being an overbearing parent on full display,

“Hello?” I called out,

“Hi, tita!” Luca’s voice replied, and the annoyance was wiped out from my face, replaced by a smile,

“Hello Luca, how are you?” I asked,

“I’m okay, I did well in school today,” he informed with his usual peppery tone,

“Of course, you’re is so awesome and smart after all,” I praised making him giggle. This child is so damn precious.

“Really? Like you?” he asked with an excited tone making me scoff, kind of flattered I’m the first person in his mind he attributed those words with,

“Well, yes, but also like your dad, isn’t your dad smart and cool?” I asked, totally going to tell this to Madeline and break his heart.

“Eh… papa is like a clown sometimes, bad jokes,” Luca said with a sullen tone like even he was disappointed with his father’s crap sense of humor, I clamped a hand over my mouth for a second to stop myself from bursting out laughing,

“Pft, don’t let him hear that,” I told him,

“I won’t, he’ll be sad,” he agreed, and I am just losing it. He definitely got more of his personality from his mother’s side. Thank goodness for August, the Delavigne’s name would finally be recognized as high intellect individuals.

“Awe, my sweet baby, why’d you call auntie?” I asked, seems like it’s not Madeline who’s eager to speak to me and do a virtual wellness check, he’s being too fussy that even his son adapted his actions and routine.

“You texted papa that you’re okay, are you busy with work? Are you hurt?” he asked,

“No, I’m fine but I am in a very far and cold place with lots of snow so I feel cold,” I replied, making him gasp,

“Oh no! Put on a blankie!” he yelled in a worried tone that made me giggle. Such a cute kid.

“Oh, I already have one, but it’s still so cold,” I replied, “But don’t you worry, I’m still okay,” I assured making him breathe a sigh of relief, “But I do need to go, Luca, I’ll call you next time, is that okay?” I reasoned, and he hummed in agreement,

“Okay, bye-bye auntie, I love you!” he said, melting my heart despite this bone-chilling air,

“Awe, I love you too Luca,” I replied, and the call ended. When sat up and looked around the room, I saw a plate of pancakes placed on the round table but no Valentin in sight.

“Valya?” I called out,

“Yes, I’m right here,” he called from the bedroom, when did he get there? I didn’t notice him move around, “You should eat first, I have something urgent I need to do,” he said as he exited the bedroom already clad in thick clothes, gloves, and a scarf.

I nodded, since he’s already dressed. I couldn’t stop him now. For all I know, cooking the pancakes must’ve already been a big hold up for him. “Yeah, uhm, take… take care,” I replied, and he nodded with a smile before he left the house, practically jogging out of here.

‘Something urgent, huh?’