Chapter 56 | Would You Still Love Me the Same?

                                    

                                          
Dedicated to priyankapandey533  for their continuous support. You're always one of the first to read and show some love for my mad little world and I can't thank you enough! You're wonderful.

                          
Amand and Marius fell through the evening into night.
                          
Just one more step, Marius prayed. Please. One more. Just one more.
                          
He had to fight for every inch. It felt like a serpent had wound itself around his chest, slowly constricting, pressing all air out of his lungs. White spots danced through his vision.
                          
One more step. One more.
                          
The familiar rumble of Amand's voice led him through the corridor of his small villa, the bishop muttering about murder and mayhem. The carriage ride back home had been hell, but this -- Marius had to battle every fiber of his being to keep his façade up.
                          
Amand mustn't find out.
                          
The cut on his temple throbbed and the dried blood itched on his cheek, but it was only a faint scratch at the back of his mind. But Amand must assume they had hit him far harder, why else would Marius be pale as a ghost, cold sweat running down his neck?
                          
Amand didn't know. And he wouldn't find out.
                          
It wasn't what the Medici Guards had done to Marius, it was what Marius did to himself. He took his bandages off every night, as much as he hated it, hated the softness on his chest, hated the curves it suddenly added. But now ... two days. He had worn them for two days.
                          
Why had he been so stupid? He hadn't wanted anyone to get hurt because of him, the guards would've taken him anyways. He just wanted to do the right thing.
                          
But now ... It was too tight. God, it was too tight. He felt the urge to claw at his chest, rip his ribs open until he could breathe again.
                          
One more step. Marius swayed, feeling the room tilt around him. Amand stopped immediately. Marius had to fight to keep his eyes open when Amand's face appeared in his vision, smiling at him, a little tired around the eyes, mustache a little off, but his hand was strong and sure when it wrapped around Marius' waist, silently taking on most of his weight.
                          
"Silly," Amand tsked, "I don't mind swooning, but don't you faint on me."
                          
"I'm fine –"
                          
"And I'm the French queen, ange."
                          
Marius hid his gasp for air in a cough. "Not with that mustache."
                          
"It gives me a certain swashbuckling air, don't you think?"
                          
Marius didn't have the air to reply, masked his rasping breath with a chuckle.
                          
"I have to show you something." Amand suddenly turned back to him, something giddy pulling relentlessly at his lips. "You'll like it."
                          
"Cake?"
                          
Amand laughed. "Better than cake."
                          
"Blasphemy," Marius tried to smile. He didn't think he was fooling Amand.
                          
Amand tugged him closer. Marius found he liked the weight of his hand, the fine white silk gloves, embroidered with a golden sunburst, heavy with a ruby ring against the plain black of Marius' robe. He had kissed those hands a thousand times. This ring, he reminded himself. 
                          
"Alright?" Amand murmured, eyes softening. 
                          
Marius nodded. He never knew what to do with this look on Amand. It ... confused him. He never saw Amand looking at anyone else like that. It didn't fit his crude jokes and haughty laughs, his sharp smiles and dangerous mind. It was too soft, too warm. Too precious.