The Hitman and His Consort

LVII - Soon

First Person P.O.V: ARTHUR DE LAVINGE

This f*cking sucks. This is terrible—this is wrong! Why did I? Why did he?! We… we…

“Internal evaluation meeting?” his voice sounded. It didn’t help that it was morning and we both just woke up. That the raspiness in his voice had the hairs on my skin stand on end.

I peeked out of the thick blankets on his bed. How we got here was… like a fever dream. It felt fake. I think it’s fake, but bodily pains and a distinct soreness proved that it wasn’t. How did this even happen?

We were sitting on the chair... well; I was sitting on his lap, and then... then... one thing led to another then...

That thing happened. I was here looking for closure. Not…

My skin flinched when I felt his calloused hands creep up under the blankets and link around my torso, and I could feel his breathing on my neck. What the hell happened within five years? Is this really the same man as before? Is this ridiculously startling lovey-dovey mush of a man the same person who proved himself a menace to society and everyone around him?

This is the same man who thought everyone else is a background character with no lives to live apart from being his stepping stone to get what he wants?

‘What happened here?’

“You changed,” I noted, taking a deep breath.

There was no excuse, no matter how much I act like I didn’t want it to happen or that I hated it, the fact is I chose to do that with him, and to be honest…I wanted it. In that fleeting moment, I actually wanted it to happen, but it’s regretful you know. It felt so shallow and sudden, like a drunken decision between strangers to have a one-night stand.

It’s a shame.

I don’t even know if I wanted anything more than that, but having just that was also a terrible feeling. What the hell has this man done with my psyche? I don’t like this internal turbulence that he put me in. If he just went on and make light of it and made it seem like a mistake or an accident, I would’ve taken it better.

But this ambiguous way of going about it? This morning-after warmth and skin contact/ intimacy is breaking me apart layer by layer like a marshmallow to a torch.

“You think so?” he replied, and I hummed as I placed my hands on top of his,

“Yeah, you’re like a roughly decent… person,” I trailed off, debating last minute whether I should say ‘person’ or ‘partner’ because that’s the kind of role he’s trying to project here.

He hummed as he nuzzled closer to me, which is unfair because now I also feel his heartbeat, “I didn’t… I pretended to be one, I just memorized how a decent person should act until I could do it like a routine,” he differed.

I chuckled, “So all of this was an act?” I asked, nervous and annoyed at myself that I had to ask that and bury a deeper hole to bury myself in,

“No…not this one, which is weird, I also didn’t notice how much I changed until I saw you again,” he answered.

‘f*cking hell…’

“Valya,”

“Hm?”

“Do you have any idea what we’re going to do from here on out?” I asked, biting my lip after materializing the words and putting them out there. I don’t want to be the only one with internal conflict. This has to be experienced by both of us. Suffering alone is no longer my trademark move.

He hummed, pulling away from me and sitting up. I think I’ve never felt such intense disappointment since I can remember. Two overpowering emotions of regret and relief took over me. I knew I was in for a rough ride if we ever truly became together. In the corner of my head, I was thinking that maybe I can bear to be his actual partner. This is only hypothetical though, and yet I know the logical thing was to steer clear of those waters.

Like sailing away from a route that’s always plagued with tumultuous storms that put the seas in a violent state.

‘This is it. This is what I gathered throughout the years, crappy slam poetry.’

Talking to Rod really put the poet in me to work a 16-hour shift for minimum wage.

“From here, мой король, we eat breakfast,” he said,

Standing up and got off the bed wearing maroon sweatpants that he got from who knows where. I’m pretty sure he was also naked until that moment. Leaving me behind with all the negative thoughts that have been piling on top of each other. I sighed as I bathed in my ‘I told myself so’ and ‘called it’ self-deprecation session. I laid there for another minute or more than a few minutes in actuality.

‘Also, I think I heard him say that word before, ‘moi korol’? The hell does that mean?’

This is terrible. Why did I do that? Even he knows that I’m having an evaluation meeting, I figured he wouldn’t give much input for this since he lived two decades of his life living with no discretion towards others; I doubt a five-year duration will make a heavy indentation on him.

I mean, I see it. I wouldn’t say there’s nothing that changed because obviously there are some distinct changes. Changes that not only did I see, but experienced.

“Мой король, do you want coffee or cocoa?” I heard his voice call from the kitchen, it’s making the fact that he’s got a big house here and already settled down painfully obvious. Like I was simply an intruder. A passing visitor of sorts.

You’d think bearing all those self-doubt and self-blame throughout my life would give me some sort of immunity to things like these, I’d grow to have some defense mechanisms to not pull myself into a frenzied spiral but here we are.

“Whatever you have in abundance,” I replied to his question,

“Whatever you want I’ll keep in abundance, so choose,” he answered back,

“Well… cocoa,” I called out,

He didn’t reply after that. I assume he started making it, or maybe he was worried because he doesn’t have cocoa at hand. Either way, it’s his fault I feel not so eager to stand because I’m sore on places that I’m usually not.

“What do I do from here… Arthur, what will you do from here?” I asked into the air, the texture of the blanket sliding against my bare skin, leaving this ambient feeling in my chest.

“Good question,” Valya chimed in as he entered the room, a mug in each hand and handing me the one on his left.

I sat up, wincing at the slight twinge of pain but it passed quickly enough. the blanket wrapped around my chest for some sort of cover as I took a sip and the sweet taste and warmth of the cocoa flooded my taste buds. The warmth crept from my mouth and reached down to my toes it made me feel like I’m melting.

‘sh*t this hits the spot,’

I thought with a hum. Valya sat down on the edge of the bed and chuckled as he sipped from his own drink, scoffing at me and looking at the window. What a homey vibe coming from someone originally crude like him.

“So your answer?” he asked,

“Hmm?”

“You asked yourself a question… you haven’t answered yet,” he reminded,

“Oh…” I said with a hum, taking another sip and sighing as I looked out the window too. I already told him that I’d stay with him yesterday, but he’s right to make me question myself now. I don’t want to fulfill multiple decisions that I made in the spur of the moment and make the same mistake twice. I want to keep being proud of myself over the years.

“I’m not so sure now, any suggestions?” I asked him, his piercing cool, teal-gray eyes looking at me, seemingly glowing as the bright white light from the window shone on him, contrasting him to the dark wood color of this room.

He combed his hair back, taking another sip before smiling at his drink, “I want you to stay…of course,” he said, looking up and traveling his eyes throughout the whole room. Averting my gaze again, “But that would be plain selfish, I’ve learned self-reflection, I know that I’m being ambitious, but still… I want you here,” he narrated,

‘Is this real? This isn’t a gag show segment, isn’t it? What the hell… that’s so f*cking heartfelt, what—’

“That’s cute,” I remarked, making him scoff but still, he didn’t look at me directly. I guess it’d be wrong to discredit the fact that maybe five years was enough to make a dent in that personality of his. So he’s become like this, huh?

How peculiar, makes me think if he had help to reach this point. Personally, I know humans have more s*x drive compared to animals since we're the only species that doesn’t mate for the sole sake of reproduction. Still, I don’t know what I was thinking that he didn’t leave that impression on me that he's someone who's able to do that or even know about it. Maybe I really regarded him as someone inhuman or machine powered. That’s kind of on me.

“Why can’t you go back with me anyways?” I asked, that would’ve been easier than this emotional guesswork,

“I’m still looking for my parents,” he replied.

‘Oh…wait, what?!’

“I…I’m sorry, isn’t Mr. and Mrs. Hacksaw… back at…” I trailed off, tilting my head as I kept getting lost in his words, not sure if I heard him right and he did just say parents, he finally looked at me before talking, reaching his hand over and wiping at the corner of my lip with his thumb as he spoke,

“Not them, before I left I went to see McGyle, she’s the only one that’s accessible for insider info on the lab, Montreal was…well, he’s dead for sure, and Pierre didn’t look like he has any idea whatsoever, and I struck a goldmine and apparently my parents survived,” he paused, taking another sip from his cup,

My eyes are glued to him the whole time, but he’s serious. I couldn’t believe it. Apart from hearing those names again, it gave me whiplash that he’s done that, and that he left to do something actually productive with his time. What's more, is that his parents are actually honest to goodness alive! It felt weird to know that now because that’s so unlike him. He didn’t give a damn about his real parents consistently, so to know that he’s actually searching for them…

“I think I’m getting close but… McGyle was right, after years of no luck it gets really tiring,” he followed, finishing his mug and looking at mine, “Are you done?” he asked, gesturing at it and I shook my head,

“Well… wait, how do you know you’re close?” I asked, because why give up if he thinks he’s close to finding them?

That doesn’t seem to be like his character, what exactly changed that made this man appear so sentimental, when before he was more than eager to threaten people using their children and leave a few people to die at a collapsing building, even throwing out bombs to make sure the job was done.

Who is this man?

“I’ve been getting traces of them every now and then I even posted fliers of their faces, initially, I made it seem outdated way back just in case other people are looking for them, left a phone number that I could easily dispose of,” he began,

I listened as I continued to drink my cocoa since he seem to be waiting for me to finish, “Sometimes I get calls and texts telling me that they saw them but it was a few months ago, or that they’ve seen someone who looked like them but with different hairstyles,” began, I shifted closer to him because his voice was getting softer as she went on,

“Sometimes I even receive messages, someone did see them but they moved and even attach photos, I feel like they’re just around but…” he trailed off again,

“The cases were rare but they seem to be legitimate encounters, but maybe my parents really don’t want to be found, maybe they’re really happy by themselves now it has been 29 years now, I just want to talk to them for a bit so when I come back, I’ll have something to tell the Hacksaw’s,” he finished, by now I was sitting next to him, my back exposed to the cold air since the blanket only covered my front torso and wrapped around my lower back.

He took my now empty mug and stood up, “Well, that’s that…” he said, walking out the door once again,

“So does that mean you want to be found?” I asked,

“To be honest? Not really I'm not confident enough to face you more than anyone, also I still don’t know how you find me, how did you?” he asked back with a curious smile that melted away once he saw the confused look on my face.

‘No… because how does that make sense? Wasn’t he the one who sent those letters?’

“Weren’t you…what about the letters?” I asked, and he frowned, tilting his head at me before raising a hand.

“Wait, let’s me just put these in the sink, tell me about the letters when I come back,” he instructed, gesturing at the mugs and I nodded as I clutched the blanket around me, wrapping me better to cover myself.

So the letters weren’t from him. That’s f*cking creepy, that would mean that someone knows where and who he is, but it’s weirder that whoever that was, they sent to Rodrigo’s clinic. With nothing more than the plain address.

What is this?

When Valya returned, he headed to his closet first and walked back to me with a thick, plain black sweater, going as far as to help me put it on. After that, he crouched in front of me as my bare legs dangled on the side of the bed, the blanket now only covering my thighs,

“What letters?” he asked, his expression turning serious as he held onto my leg.

“Rodrigo received two letters, it was just addresses and nothing else, he ignored the first one but when the second one arrived he brought it up to me,” I answered and he sighed as he rested his forehead on my knee,

“Damn it, Arthur…” he whispered, making me scowl, pressing my palm softly against his forehead to push his head up, forcing him to meet my eyes again,

“Now what? Was it so wrong for me to go look for you?” I asked,

“No! That’s not it… I didn’t send out letters, and in the first place why would you go to another country, what if it was a trap?” he asked with furrowed brows and a… smile?

“Yeah, if you’re so worried then stop smiling, what’chu smiling for?” I spat back, raising a brow.

He shook his head as he lowered his gaze, a small smile still etched on his face, “I can’t help it… you crossed countries to look for me with only an address as your assurance? It made me feel like you really want to see me… despite everything, but I am pissed that you made that decision,” he said.

It made me want to knock his head. Sweet heavens, I thought it’d be the reckoning before Valya would incite feelings like this to me. He’s still got some of his selfishness intact, but this is a big leap to his attitude compared to the last time I spoke to him.

“But I need to find whoever sent you those letters because that’s pretty f*cking alarming,” he followed,

I huffed as I stretched my neck, “You mean ‘we’ Valya, that said I have another spate address here and—” I corrected as I went on but before I could finish, I caught a glimpse of his eyes that seemed nailed to me for a moment or two with a look of disbelief, a smile graced his face before he jumped at me with a tight hug,

“Thank you,”

“I didn’t know you knew that word,”

“I recently got fluent in Russian, then I knew the English translation for the word,”

“Pft, dick..”

He chuckled, his embrace loosening as he rested his forehead on my shoulder, “мой король…” he whispered close to my ear. It sent a chill down my spine. I placed my hand on top of his head, mentally reciting a mantra to keep myself calm and bring up the topic of talking about this ambiguous arrangement of ours in the future.

I know it’s wrong to leave things as is now since prolonging the situation will pull us deeper into this but I was soaring with this feeling, instead of falling deeper it felt like I was flying higher. Reminding me of the story of Icarus.

“What does that mean?” I asked as I combed my fingers through his soft hair, which made me jealous because how come?

“I’ll tell you next time…”

“When’s next time?”

“Soon,”

“Okay, soon then...”