Alvis took the wires off and started folding them to put them back in place. He turned to check and noticed the sweat on the boy's forehead and reached his hands to Davante, supposedly sleeping. He smiled gently at the other before pulling him slowly up to a sitting position to carefully unbutton the gown from behind. It was then that he felt something… wet? He first considered it sweat, but he quickly noticed it was too sticky to be only sweat… he widened his eyes in fear of what he thought it could be.
Slowly, he retracted his hand from the boy's back to take a good look at it. He held back a gasp and forced himself to stay calm. His hand was drenched with blood, Davante's blood, to be precise. With trembling hands, he quickly pulled the other closer and rested Davante's head on his chest. He took a closer look and was horrified at what he found. There, on Davante's fragile back, was a deep wound… almost like someone drew a perfect flower, a rose, on the boy's back with a sharp blade. The wound didn’t seem to close as the blood was flowing nonstop. Alvis didn’t have time to react when Davante’s body jerked and shook violently in his arms.
"Davante… Davante! What's wrong?! I—" his hands hovered above the other's trembling back. "What do I do—"
Weak-pale hands suddenly grabbed his shirt, forcing him to quickly look down to meet the other’s eyes. He was expecting the familiar icy blue eyes, but... red… his eyes were suddenly red, wide in fear and filled with tears.
"Do-Do someth-ing!"
Alvis was lost. Davante's voice sounded suffocated like an invisible hand kept choking the skinny neck tightly.
"Stop him—! Wake-him up!" tears streamed down the pale cheeks. "I— My soul—! Can’t— He’ll—!" the hand loosened on his shirt, “…die…”
It was like the scene played in slow motion… Davante slipped from his hands and fell limp on the bed. Just like… like he was dead. Alvis was shaking; he wanted to say something, DO something, yet nothing came to mind. “What… what do you…” He weakly grabbed the other's shoulders; they felt so weak in his hands, fragile, broken. It shattered his heart. He shut his eyes to stifle his tears and whispered desperately, "What…? What do you mean he’ll die…? I don’t know what… tell me what to do…” his grip tightened. "Please let me do something this time… I… I…"
His twin brother’s image flashed in his mind, dead and cold on his bed in the empty house.
He snapped his eyes wide open with tears. "No… No!" he looked at Davante, whose face got even paler if possible, "Wake up… open your eyes!! I don’t know what you’re going through. Still, all I have to do is wake you up, right?! Then please—" he grabbed the boy’s shoulders with little force and pulled him slightly up, "I know by the look of your eyes you've always wished you were dead! I know you gave up long ago! I KNOW!!" he shook him with each word he said, "I know you're certain your parents never wanted you around— maybe not only your parents— and it's probably true— I won’t give empty promises or pretty words that they DO care!! But—" the body slipped from his trembling hands again, "I CARE!! I CAN BE YOUR FATHER IF YOU WANT!! I SWEAR I'LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU, SO JUST— PLEASE!!"
He sniffled quietly when no reaction seemed to come from the pale boy. He cupped the teen’s face with his hands as he pleaded weakly once more. “Open your eyes… Davante…” he rested both hands on the pillow at either side of the teen’s head, "I… should have accepted your request back then… right, Ebele…?” he gritted his teeth at the memory of the smiling woman standing in front of his door with the child beside her, “I’ll accept it… so…" he closed his eyes desperately, "Bring him to me… again…"
A weak, low gasp reached his ears.
“Mo… ther…”
The man snapped his head up to look at the boy who had just called for his mother. He found himself breathing again at the sight of icy blue eyes opening slowly to look up at him.
Alvis thanked the mother in his mind. He didn’t know why he was sure, but she truly gave him a chance and brought her son back to him somehow.
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The Red Flower
Chapter. 20
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"I thought it was only due to fatigue, lack of sleep, and poor nutrition…" said Alvis on the phone, talking calmly with a tired face and standing in front of the door in Davante's quiet hospital room, who looked to be sleeping peacefully, "Of course, the amount of blood he lost was another cause of his coma for several days. However I think I took the situation lightly… it was… I don't know…" he shook his head lightly as he struggled to explain what he felt, "… it's something much bigger… much complicated than we think…" eyes looked more stressed with the very fresh memory of what had happened to the teen in his sleep…
On the other line spoke Ellmer coolly.
-I see… you did well, however. You were able to save him. You stopped the bleeding and even managed to make him eat some fruits, right? You're doing good, so thank you for taking care of my brother, Dr. Alvis.
Alvis was taken aback by the other's sincere gratitude; he honestly didn't know how to respond to this unexpected side of the guy, so he remained silent.
-Did he tell you… why he refused food for years?
Alvis brushed his hair back as he sighed lightly. "No, he didn't want… or more like, couldn't talk about it." he recalled Davante's pale face and trembling hands when he brought up the topic, covering his mouth as if holding back from throwing up any moment, refusing to meet his eyes as if ashamed, "He's… traumatized… I don't know what happened, but we shouldn't force him to tell us everything now. It took me days to convince him to eat a little…"
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
-Hmm… I know you're probably stressed out, but I need you to keep taking care of him until I come back.
Alvis walked silently toward the bed and looked at the serene face of the sleeping teen. "You don't have to ask…" he smiled fondly, 'I’ll always look after my sons…' he turned his head as he added lowly, careful not to wake the boy, "By the way, what do you need to do so urgently that you left him to me in a hurry?"
-……
"Ellmer?"
-We should be more careful from now on. This Academy… will soon turn into a mess…
Alvis felt like time froze for a second. If Ellmer sounded worried, a disaster was surely coming their way.
-I don't know what stirred them up… but apparently, they're about to cause a commotion… Anfinrud.
Alvis looked at the floor with a stiff face, recalling his former boss; how the man warned him from leaving the company with his cold eyes and smile.
-Anyway, please look after Davante for me.
Alvis slowly lowered his hand holding the phone after the other ended the call immediately, staring at the floor while trying to silence the loud, stressful thoughts in his mind.
"…Are you alright…?"
Alvis snapped his head to meet Davante, who was looking at him with concern. "Sorry, did I wake you up?" he smiled warmly and walked to sit on the side of the bed beside the other. Davante blinked and turned to lay on his back, "No, I just woke up…"
"You're still tired, yeah? Go back to sleep." Alvis rested his hand on the other's chest over the blanket like a parent would do to his child before sleep.
"I slept the whole day. I’m wide awake now…"
Alvis shook his head slightly with a smile. "No, your face's still tired… sleep some more, Davante."
Davante remained silent for a moment, then turned his head to the side, away from Alvis’ caring eyes. "I… want to talk with you…"
Alvis widened his eyes slightly with a smile, looking surprised yet happy, "Alright, let's talk." He kicked his shoes off and sat cross-legged on the bed, facing the other properly. Davante remained silent, trying to figure out how to start the talk. Alvis waited for him patiently; he knew the other had something more than just casual talk.
"You asked me about the… wound in my back…"
Alvis inhaled slowly; he wanted to know about the horrible wound; it looked like a well-drawn art by a knife which was just so… frightening. He feared that someone had tortured the teen before, but it wasn’t even there when he had put the hospital gown over the boy when he was in a coma.
"I…" Davante paused, looked hesitant, or if Alvis observed some more, he'd say the kid was even scared a little while still avoiding his eyes, "I told you I'd try to tell you everything eventually… you may even find everything I'm about to tell you ridiculous…"
"I won't. I may be shocked, but I know I can believe everything you say," Alvis firmly said.
Davante hummed quietly. "The reason I'm here to begin with is because of the lost red flower, is it not?" he paused, reorganizing his thoughts. "I still don't know what happened under the tree on my first day here… but from what you told me, my eyes became red when I started talking in my sleep, right…? I think that wasn't me…"
Alvis frowned at that, stunned. He didn't know what to say but felt he shouldn't talk for now and let the other voice everything out to him.
"Ever since the incident with that flower, I started feeling the presence of another person within me… another soul," he closed his eyes. Yeolard’s face came immediately to his mind, "A guy who looks exactly like me except for his bloody eyes. I think… because my mental state wasn't stable at all, his soul wavered and got out of control…" he kept avoiding the man’s eye and looked at the dark sky from the window, "…the injury, the flower on my back appeared exactly in that moment… I think he was resisting within me, trying not to take over my body… I mean he desperately asked you to wake me up." he looked at the ceiling, "If all I said turned out to be true, then… I…" connecting the dots in his mind, "I think… the red flower was, in fact, the trapped soul of someone… ‘his’ soul…" he paused, awaiting a reaction from the other; he continued when he heard nothing, "It was known that the flower let out sounds close to weak cries while radiating at night, right? You can't possibly think it was a normal flower, can you…?"
Alvis crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his head a bit to think everything over, taking everything all at once. After several long minutes of silence, "It… honestly sounds… logical…"
Davante looked at the man with an expressionless face, secretly shocked. He didn't expect the other to seriously agree with him at all. He was waiting for the usual creeped-out look toward him, considering all his encounters with people wherever he went. 'They were all… either frightened or sinister…'
"I see. It explains why it magically disappeared in one night. Furthermore, you were the only one there, passed out for hours… okay then. We can say that's one puzzle we solved! Thank you for telling me, Davante," Alvis said with a smile, looking totally convinced. Soon the man frowned in worry, however, “But wait! Isn’t that dangerous? Are you okay? We don’t know when it will get out of control again…”
Davante blinked; he suddenly remembered the first time he met Alvis in the past and the kind eyes he met from the man back then, and the moment the man looked at him after killing his mother, 'Eyes of guilt… regret…' he felt like he could see Alvis' eyes more clearly now.
The man noticed the other staring in complete silence; Alvis blinked and asked, voice filled with worry, "Davante? Is something wrong? Are you tired?"
'Kind… caring…'
He recalled the moment he opened his eyes, waking up from his coma. The eyes he was met with were filled with tears…
‘Since the beginning… those eyes were never frightened of me…'
He turned his face to the side in an attempt to hide his face from the other, pulling the blanket closer to his chin. Eventually, he said in a low voice, "I think I understand now… why mother chose you of all people… to take care of me that day…"
Alvis was taken aback; he didn’t know why he was smiling stupidly. He felt he should say something, but nothing seemed to come out. However, the calm silence between them was comforting; both remained silent, just listening to the quiet sound of cool air from the central AC.
"…You're…" Davante hesitated. Alvis never saw him like that; he never saw the usually calm and collected kid struggle for words before, like he wanted to let out something so deep in his heart for the first time… so vulnerable; his face was so open for the first time. It was so new to Alvis, this side of Davante.
"I…" pale hands grabbed the blanket nervously, trying desperately to say something. "Thank you…" Davante pulled the covers up to his chin, stopping himself from hiding under the covers and away from the wondering eyes of the man. "…y-you've always seen me as a normal kid… even back then, the first thing you did was worry for me as a child rather than saying I'm creepy or abnormal… you refused my mother's request because you wanted what's best for me…" he slowly turned his head, eyes still looking to the side and avoiding the smiling man, "I'm sorry if I was rude to you before… I… I…" he finally glanced at the other, who was staring with a smile, looking quite stunned, "I don't know how… I mean… we're not relatives, obviously, but… I can't treat you as a friend… and… you're not my father, but you act like one… um… how should I address you now…?"
Alvis couldn't take it anymore; he quickly hid his face with his hand and turned his face with closed eyes away from the confused boy. 'Ugh! I don't know what made him say all that out of nowhere, but can I just hug him? Kaven, you're so seriously stupid for neglecting this innocent child!!' he reluctantly answered, "Dad? Or uncle Alvis…?"
Davante blinked at him, pushing the blanket to his chest, looking calmer now. "Uncle…?"
Alvis rubbed his neck with an awkward smile, still looking to the side and embarrassed. "You see, before you were born, I told your father I'll be the one and only uncle to his kid, like, I was ready to challenge anyone and everyone to own that seat… haha."
"…uncle Alvis, then."
Alvis halted and turned to look seriously at the boy, his hand lowering slowly. "Can you get up?"
Davante was confused but pushed himself up to sit on the bed. Alvis slightly leaned closer with a serious face. Davante got nervous and stopped himself from pushing the man away, "A… u-uncle?"
Suddenly and gently, Davante found himself pulled into a warm embrace. A hand rested on his head, soothingly ruffling his hair. "Then…" the man said in a whisper, “I can finally call you son now.” Alvis closed his eyes with a smile, “Right?”
It was so new, so very new to Davante that he didn't know what to feel. Being welcomed, hugged, and treated warmly like this… getting called 'son' so sincerely and genuinely like this. He felt himself tremble a little but held himself back from letting out any tear because… he wasn't used to this, wasn't used to being openly vulnerable.
He heard a voice in his head, his own voice yet calmer and… stern somehow, “The question used to be ‘Can I trust?’, then ‘Am I ready for what comes next?’, and now ‘ Am I going to break him?’. In the end, they’re all the same question. You’re just going round in circles because you know, but so afraid to take the step.” The voice became gentler, “It depends on his heart, right? It will either break you for good or fully recover you. The choice is always yours, and we both don’t know the outcome of your choices, however… I don’t want you to lose sight of me again.” He felt a hand patting the top of his head kindly, though the man hugging him didn’t seem to notice anything. The voice whispered gently, “You cannot suppress your pain forever.”
Davante closed his eyes, suddenly feeling calmer and… assured with the voice that just spoke to him elegantly; he didn’t have time to think what it was precisely as he was yet getting to know the feelings he had never experienced before. He slowly moved his trembling hand and weakly grabbed the man’s sweater; he reluctantly asked, "Can I… can I tell you…? Why I stopped eating…? Where I was all these years…?" he gulped, “And about… That room…?”
.
.
"Good morning, dearest sister."
A woman with dark skin and black, straight hair to her neck; stood at the doorway, with one hand on her hip and the other hovering over the open door as she just knocked at it, wearing a deluxe black suit, staring at the other girl in the room with cold-oily eyes and a hint of a smirk on her lips. "Our beloved father wonders if you're done with the painting."
With her fancy dress, long, wavy blonde hair, and white-pale skin, the other girl put down her brush very calmly. She sat elegantly on her comfortable cushion in front of a medium-sized, black canvas. She softly answered, not turning to the other girl standing by the door behind her back.
"You may take it now."
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The End of CH. 20