☆Wish Upon A Star☆

☆~Chapter 18~☆

Matthew clutched his bag close, panting under the many layers of thick clothing he had to wear to not freeze in his way back to the killer cold of the Sino-Russian innards.

Only the weak light of the cigarette he shielded from the wet snow with his hood kept his face warm, and his glasses from freezing. He wished he had taken his motorbike from his American home, so he wouldn't have to walk for miles in the skin-parting and bone-freezing snow.

The snowfall hugged his fur boots and threatened to keep such an important message from Arthur from its destination; but Matthew Williams-Kirkland wouldn't let that happen.

He remembered, how he could almost feel in his own chest how Arthur's heart broke when he heard about Yao's shared intimacy with Kiku. How his pain slowly turned to a cold, blind rage; how he ordered Matthew to find help back in their small village, and how he told him exactly where to find it.

Arthur was really a man with plenty of resources.

Inhaling the blissfully warm smoke from his cigarette, he squinted his eyes to recognize the worn-out skeleton of the two-story cabin that was the Kirklands' home in that village before the danger. It had been burnt down, probably by the young Braginski leader.

He walked past it, not feeling a single sting of nostalgia as he glanced at the now exposed, snow-covered innards of his last home.

He squinted his eyes narrower at the horizon, taking the finished cigarette out of his mouth and tossing it against the cold snow, aware that the last sparkles couldn't start a fire in such a weather; and stared at the strong marble mansion that stood proudly, still tiny in the far horizon.

Matthew forced his legs to walk faster, to fight against the wind and snow hitting them and win. He couldn't wait to deliver his message. Hadn't he always wanted to be a postman?

The light blizzard stopped, letting the last remainings of snow fall from the skies onto the white-covered land and the very few roofs that dared to face the sky in this merciless corner of the world. Matthew's steps rushed slightly. He had to get there as soon as possible, and he felt like the main weapon for the winning side to finally beat an enemy of many; the Honda pup that had angered the Russian mafia and interrupted into the Kirkland's love story.

His gloved hand knocked the golden wolf-head-shaped handle against the door's doorbell underneath, a great system to make the entrance of a mansion look classical without refusing the technology and comodities of the twentieth century. Matthew's eyes darted towards the gardens, deserts of freezing snow over every green sprout that could have grown in such a cruel and infertile ground.

Some minutes after, a beautiful lady opened the door to him. Her sad, blue eyes looked up into Matthew's without showing any fear, but only surprise. She held onto the thick fur cape draped over her plump shoulders. "Who are you?" She asked in a crooked English, frowning.

Matthew shook himself off of his trance, induced by the curves he could tell behind the wool and fur dress that covered the girl, and stood up taller. "I'm Matthew Williams-Kirkland, miss. I'm here to offer some work to... Ivan Braginski,"

Her eyes widened just slightly, as she opened the door more and stepped aside for him to walk in. "Work for my brother? You can speak to him if you want, but he only works for himself," She said, gently taking the thick coat off Matthew.

He ignored her warnings, feeling like he didn't need the coat's warmth anymore. "Your brother? Am I speaking to a Braginski lady?" He tried to stop her from serving him, but her gaze hardened and her now gritted teeth only let out a few words, grasping the coat tighter. "To a Braginski maid, sir Williams-Kirkland. Follow me,"