What Was Worth A Heart

Chapter 128: The Aftermath

Time for angst. 

FINALLY.

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It didn't occur to Charles how serious Shao Long's condition was until he was moving with the Chinese male in his arms, jostling him about with his rush. He hadn't quite managed to take a good look on the him when he was confronting Xi Shen Ko for the second time that day, too focused on getting to his goals, too focused on taunting him, on winning, that he didn't realize exactly how many times Shao long's heart must've stopped this day alone. 

Shao Jun was scampering behind him, struggling hard to try and match his pace with his considerably shorter legs whilst clutching the organ box close to his chest. The fact that he had yet to make a sound should concern Charles, but he was too caught up with checking Shao Long's condition. 

If Shao Long was pale yesterday, then he was ghostly now. His lips were blue, he didn't know it could be this shade of blue. The rest of his skin was ashen grey, no longer sporting the red blush Charles had been so charmed with all this time. His pulse was too slow, and sometimes he couldn't even feel it against his thumb when he pressed it on Shao Long's wrist. And oh, his wrist. The veins hadn't been this blue before, had never been this dark, or even as prominent as they were. The tips of his fingers were even bluer than his lips, his nails completely having lost any trace of the familiar pink. 

The boy's skin had felt cold, so so very cold. 

"We're gonna make it." He said as they rushed along the stairs upwards to the 12th floor. The elevator of the west wing was broken, and they'd be damned before trying for the east wing. Too much time and trouble for a cause they weren't sure would be correct. For all they knew, the east elevator would've been as broken as the west one. 

"His heart." Shao Jun panted behind him, more from the overdose of adrenaline rather than exhaustion. "His heart stopped twice before this." 

The heart stopping once was lethal enough. To stop twice was as good as giving Shao Long a permanent injury. Charles hastened his movements, striding over three of the stair's steps in lieu of one, ignoring how Shao Jun sputtered behind him. They've arrived on the 12th floor, or rather, he does with Shao Long. 

"Which room?" Charles turned to the younger twin with a furrow on his brows, voice accidentally pitched lower than what was intended. 

"This...this way." Shao Jun dashed towards one of the corridors. 

Charles followed close behind, jostling Shao Long a little in a steady rhythm as a form of comfort as he whispered soothing words into deaf ears. 

As they turned around a corner, Charles heard a weak murmur from under him. 

"Shao Long?" 

"Char....s..... Char...."