Wanted by The Mafia [Bxb]

Twelve

Valentino stared out the frost-laced windows, the view of the city lights a huge blur. Just by having contact with the freezing finger sent chills down his spine, numbing the tip of his red finger. His right hand was gently caressing Nathaniel's soft cheek, sometimes glancing down at the boy whose head was buried in his lap. He was sitting on his luxurious, red sofa, wetting a cloth and pressing it to Nathaniel's forehead gently, dabbing the warm cloth all around his sweaty face.

He had been impatiently waiting for Nathaniel's medicine, and soon after it came, he had poured his kitten a glass of water, gently making him gulp down the tablet. Nathaniel's attempts at keeping placid was useless.

Inside, he was boiling with anger, lashing out on himself for not getting home earlier. Maybe then Nathaniel's condition would've been a bit better. He had acted utterly selfish, not stopping Nathaniel from finishing up the chores. He could've lent a hand with the cleaning duty, but being reckless and selfish, he had only watched from afar. Now, he was doomed to let the guilt within him eat him alive.

Nathaniel was stirring slightly, making Valentino wary, shifting Nathaniel's hair away from his face as he stared at him intently, eyes wide and alert for any signs of waking up.

Nathaniel's long eyelashes began to flutter, his eyes tightening before they slowly opened, hissing at the bright light. "Sorry, darling," Valentino murmured, soothing his whines as he shielded Nathaniel's eyes with his callosal hands.

"S-Sir?" Nathaniel minced, scared to speak. His eyes began to droop, making Valentino jump into action. "No, no, no, baby. Don't close your eyes," he said, tutting. "Try to keep your eyes open for me."

Nathaniel mewled, clutching his pounding head in agony. "It hurts," he said, his voice strained. "I know. The medicine should kick in soon." Nathaniel was able to fully open his eyes, confused as he scanned his surrounding. "Ew, that painting is ugly," he said in disgust, pointing at Valentino's sacred, most precious painting he had bought from a gallery.

"Well, excuse you," muttered Valentino, making the boy resting on his lap gasp, sitting up, head hurting from the sudden movement. "Oh my god," he yelped, covering his mouth and ignoring the agonizing pain in his head. "I am so sorry, that was very heedless of me!" Valentino chuckled, ruffling his curls. "It's okay, Nathaniel. No worries. Glad to hear you speak your mind freely for once."

Heat crept up Nathaniel's neck, face red in humiliation. "I'm sorry, sir." He whispered, lowering his head and fidgeting with his cold fingers. "What happened?" He asked himself, having the man in front of him answer his questions.

"You're ill, unfortunately. While washing the dishes, you fainted, so I brought you home. You have the day off tomorrow." Nathaniel's senses drowned in confusion as he blankly stared at Valentino. "This is your house?" He said quite abruptly, covering his mouth again to stop himself from having any other atrocious outbursts.

"Indeed it is," Valentino spoke, looking outside once again. Oh, how lovely his view was from his huge window. He could look down at the town's people all day if he wished to.

Not even the hubbub of the crowd could be heard from above, but the scenery, the serenity could be seen. Nathaniel tilted his head, then turned it towards the window, playing his sweaty palm on it. It created a handprint, dirtying the window, but Valentino didn't mind. As Nathaniel breathed onto the cold glass, his hot breath tainted it, creating a fog.

Without thinking twice, he wrote his name into the fog with his fingers, Valentino watching his movements carefully and struck with awe. The boy was such a wonder, such a prudent boy. The sound of the leaves outside brought peace to the two.

"Your view is wonderful, sir," Nathaniel said in a chary manner, voice soft like the flutter of a butterflies wings as it flew over gardens and sweet-smelling flowers. "You know, you can call me by my name, Nathaniel," grunted Valentino with a false expression of disinterest.

He was acting as if he was reticent. "Sorry, Valentino." Such an exquisite, long name sounded foreign to Nathaniel's tongue. "Valentino, Valentino, Valentino," he chanted, reciting the name as a way to get used to it. "Yes?" The older boy asked, smirking understandingly. "N-Nothing."

The boy looked away, a new question popping up in his mind. "I think I should go home now. It's getting late." As he tried to stand up, he was pulled back onto the older boy's lap, who wrapped his bulging arms around Nathaniel's tiny waist. "Oh, kitten. How wrongful of you." He paused, grinning when he felt Nathaniel's heart speed up. "You're staying here tonight."