What It Means To Be King

Chapter 12: Insults To Injuries, There Can Be No Trust

"No wait, stop!" 

The door of the elevator closed tight before the arm that held onto his shoulders were released. It almost made him shudder, being so close to Charles. Him being here with Shao Long so willingly only meant that there was something that Charles wanted from him and considering how they needed to be alone for it, Shao Long knew it wasn't an entirely good thing. 

For one hour straight, he just couldn't find himself to relax, but maybe it was better than being kidnapped by those bulky guys. He didn't have enough stamina for that, God. 

Glancing at the blond next to him, Shao Long scuffled to one corner of the elevator, furthest away from Charles. The look Charles gave him alongside the very judgmental smile was ignored as he kept his gaze firmly locked to his shoes. One arm was linked around his body as a gesture of discomfort. 

"You're shaking." Was how Charles first initiated their conversation, if it could be called that anyway. Shao Long would've marveled at how interactive that was but then again, Charles hadn't really said anything about what he wanted and what he didn't want, so he was fairly safe. For now. 

Shaking, he knew, was something he couldn't really stop. First, autumn rain isn't just cold. Second, he was exhausted. Third, Charles was here. Fourth, Shao Long was afraid, of course.

"Yes I am, no thanks to you." Shao Long snapped, eyes closed so he didn't even get to see the guy's shadow. 

"You're not afraid of me, are you?" 

Shao Long's fingers itched to kill this man, but as far as he's concerned, the crime of killing a minor is heavy, and if that minor is the President of America's son, then you're really fucked. All he could do really was just snide some lame sarcastic remarks that he hoped Charles wouldn't get too offended by. 

"Oh no, why would I be afraid of you?" Shao Long crossed his arms with a snort, leaning against the corner of the walls in seek of support for both his mental and physical exhaustion. "Like, my life is totally not ruined by you multiple times, and I certainly loved the way I was tricked at every turn. Totally no problem." 

Shao Long was aware that he was being pathetic and overbearingly sensitive. He remembered the time when he had screamed at the top of his lungs "Nooooo." in the bathroom and it was the most embarrassing thing he had ever done, but the him from before with lack of mental stability cared the fuck not about it. 

Charles was eyeing him from the mirror on the elevator wall, calculating every inch of his expression to determine, possibly, whatever emotion was truly held behind the Chinese's exhausted look. However, Shao Long shed away his masks in front of the people who had seem him at his worst, including Charles because there is no need to waste his energy faking emotions in front of him. 

"Neither of which was my fault though. You're the one who started it." Charles spoke, voice dropping low as to match the darkening atmosphere. "Both time....no, three times I guess, all of them were caused by you. I just wanted to protect my friends and peace." 

"Oh yes, yes I understand now." Shao Long mocked understanding, aware of the dramatic tone that he had purposely used, not really to rile Charles up but specifically to make himself feel better, just because the only nutrition that his exhaustion accept willingly is insulting the people that he hate like it was his purpose and he liked it. 

"Definitely the slogan of America, right? Like, I bear the responsibility to make peace wherever I go cuz, lemme guess, you're the great American?" Shao Long tried to stop but too late. "Sure, help yourself with all the troublemakers in the world, get rid of all the bad guys why don't you?"