Living with Hope ✓ [ boyxboy ] [ Completed ]

03 | HOPE'S HOUSE

TRIGGER WARNING
 Use of Homophobic Slur 
 References to Alcohol Consumption

03 | HOPE'S HOUSE
Hopes room smells of Lavender (the person not the flower)

Ivan's POV

Alexander Hope lives on the roof.

I don't know how he got the arrangement done, but his room is built on the terrace. This means that he has to climb two flights of stairs to get to his room, unlike the rest of the Hopes who have their rooms on the first floor.

I ended up sleeping on an air mattress in Alexander Hope's room. He had to clear the floor up because it was filled with shoes and sweaty t-shirts and jerseys.

It was three in the morning when we reached his house. He offered to sleep on the air mattress instead but I refused. "Your bed smells like lady's perfume," I explained, and even in the darkness I could see his face turn pink.

I think I slept for five minutes. The whole night, I was crossing between staring at the roof and staring at Hope. He sleeps like a log.

The Hopes have a pretty house. It's a classic, almost-Victorian duplex that faces the east. So at six or so in the morning, when the sun has barely risen, the house just glows. It's filled with light - there are so many windows and so few curtains. Hope's room has a golden hue to it, and so does Hope's hair.

God, I wish I'd stop staring at it so much.

It's noon and Hope is still asleep. The entire house is, actually. It's a lazy Saturday and they all had a long night. I decide to get up and go to his brother's room, hoping he's awake. There's a small poster on the door that says 'Sebastian's Lair'. I knock and enter when I hear a feeble 'Come in'.

"Sebastian Hope?" I say carefully, walking inside. A skinny boy is sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard. He's reading a comic book.

His room is bright, the walls painted a calm blue and Indie band posters covering them. His bed is smack in the center of the room, with a dark carpet around it. There's a keyboard on one end of the room and a tiny bookshelf on another. His room, unlike his brother's, is clean. His desk has a single notebook on it and a planner is stuck on the wall beside it. I can't believe he's a teenager.

He looks at me and keeps the comic aside. His hand clenches the front of his raven hair as he removes his glasses and keeps them on the bedside table. When I look at him again, I can't stop looking at his eyes. They're brighter and greener than his brother's. I look away.

There's an ice-pack at the side of his back. And his hand is fractured. Hope was right; I really need to observe the people around me.

"I'm sorry," I say, giving a pointed look at the plaster around his hand.

He shakes his head. "You weren't there."

"But my team was. And you deserve an apology. They won't do it again." I make a mental note to talk to my entire team about this. "Do you remember who did this to you? I know they were Wildcats, but can you tell me some names?"

He shakes his head. "I'm not ratting anyone out."

"They just beat you up, Sebastian! You don't owe them anything." Sebastian's too kind for his own good. The entire Hope family is, actually. I'm their son's biggest rival and my team just beat their other son up black and blue. And I'm living with them!

He shrugs and then asks me how I got here. Before I can answer, a cat jumps over me. Its forepaws are on my collarbone and its hind ones are trying to get a good grip on my shirt. I hold it on the waist so that it doesn't fall.