𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄, volturi kings

N I N E

- F L A S H B A C K -

Light barely made it through the trees, hitting his face and shining on his skin like the jewels he always found himself stealing. Lawrence held his hands in front of his face marvelling at his new skin, smooth and pale and new. Almost as if it didn't belong to him.

The pirate ran forward a few steps, falling over his feet at the new speed. "What in Hell is going on?" He muttered to himself, distressed, "What's happening to me?"

"You're a newborn." Lawrence clamped his hands over his ears to defend them from the deafening melody in the silent woods, shifting to face it from his position on the ground. "It may be too much right now, but with time you will learn to embrace it."

Lawrence looked up at the man in disbelief, "Is that a joke? I do hope you can hear my laughter over the sound of your bullshit."

With a dead expression plastered on his face, the captain began to drink in the stranger's unusual appearance. Red eyes like nothing he had ever seen before, skin a few shades paler than his own, and shoulder-length, wavy brown hair. No doubt, the man was beautiful.

Another sound graced his ears, this time it was a quiet laugh and Lawrence couldn't help but smile. And, although he attempted to stop, he could not. "Do you have a name?" He questioned the stranger, attempting to seem nonchalant.

"Marcus, and you, my friend?"

Without a moment's hesitation, he spoke his name, the truth slipping out for some unknown reason. "Guy. And I'm not a newborn - I've got 27 years under my belt," the pirate introduced himself, but couldn't help adding a small joke, "and a little over five inches..."

Marcus raised a brow and pursed his lips, still with a smile gracing his marble features, it was strange that Lawrence found such a simple thing attractive. On a man, no less! Had he been in a better state of mind, he may have snarled at his predicament. For a man to be aroused by another man, it was sinful! Although, a pirate knew sin all too well.

The new man looked between the two of them, his amusement turning to shock whist his happiness remained. A few minutes passed and neither spoke a word until Marcus broke the silence. "I live in Italy, with my brothers. You are most welcome to join me on my journey home? We could help you with your current situation."

Lawrence smiled, unable to stop, but knew that he could not accept the offer - he was a Captain with a crew, and a family. "I'm afraid not, pal." Marcus' smile dropped slightly, and the pirate's followed. In an attempt to soften the blow, though he did not know why, Lawrence continued. "I've got somewhere to be, and, anyway, Italy's not my style." Unfortunately, his words did not make Marcus smile, and instead, managed to make his frown deepen.

In an attempt to seem casual, Marcus tried to convince him, but his eyes never left the link he saw that connected them as mates. "It would be very beneficial."

"I shouldn't."

"And I'm sure it won't be completely boring." Marcus persisted, slowly loosing his calm tone.

"I really can't-"

"Please, Guy!" By now, the calm tone he had used had completely vanished, in exchange for a pleading one. For some reason, the hurt in Marcus' voice as he held his hand made Lawrence's heart ache. Lawrence hated it, especially how clingy the stranger had suddenly become.

Still, he refused to let it affect him. In an authoritative tone, Lawrence spoke strongly. "Stop!"

Marcus did.

"Now, I think it's best that we both go our separate ways. Quietly. Maybe, the best thing for us both, is to forget this exchange. Do you agree?"

Lawrence stared at him with a steely gaze, gripping his hand tightly. Marcus' eyes were blank, and he nodded slightly.

"I asked if you agreed?" Lawrence repeated forcefully.

Marcus answered in monotone, "I do."

Lawrence found Marcus' varying emotions strange, but made no move to question them. Instead, Lawrence walked away, back into the woods, yelling back at the other man. "Don't follow me, and don't mention me. To anyone. Savy?"

As Lawrence walked away, he did not see Marcus nod, a dead expression plastered on his marble features as he could no longer control his actions.

'A gift,' Marcus wondered, sadly and silently. 'A truly remarkable gift.'

*****
755 words.

7% of my stories (fanfics) are published.
Is this a normal statistic?

Anyone want to know about all these mystery fanfics?

Can anyone guess how many drafts I have now (02/10/18)
(I write the date day/month/year, like we do in Britain)

Also, Marcus is a weirdo.