I love you- Billie Eilish
~
Paris Holmes was many things, but he was never good with expressing his true feelings. There had never been a need for it. His Father, Sebastian, couldn't care less about him and his Mother, Elise, was too drugged to care as much as she would have wanted.
But there was one person he could never pretend to. She always knew what he was thinking. Always knew how to get his real emotions out.
And she couldn't remember any of that.
At the beginning, he agreed to whatever she wanted. Space? He could do that. He could do without her, for a while. That was fine. And sometimes, he found himself staring at Marcos, following him, but never speak to him. Or say anything.
He couldn't help the feeling that everything was his fault. That he always did things like this. Destroyed good things. Plus, he felt better being able to watch over him from afar.
Many times, Marcos had gotten too drunk at the parties he went to and he was the one always taking him home. Or helping him out with his tests. Or paying his tutor to make sure he was doing a good job with him.
It seemed better... Taking care of him that way. Facing him was harder. The thought that he couldn't make Marcos happy, that he couldn't fix it... Paris had no idea but what he did know, was that he was scared.
Yet, now, he wasn't sure how he would have stayed sane if it wasn't for the male.
Many times, Marcos came over to his house,always with cookies, and always tried to cheer him up, and other times, he'd force him and Elise out of the house, taking them to his own place so they had dinner with his own family.
Of course, he knew the male was hurting too. They both were. But being with him, felt like she was there with them. That she approved, somehow. That perhaps, one day, she'd remember them and be proud that they stuck together.
Still, he hated how everyone acted like she didn't exist. No one wanted to talk about her. Acting like she was never there. He knew there were only trying to protect his feelings, their feelings, but it didn't stop it from hurting.
And there was that one time when he nearly lost it.
They had been an impromptu assembly, something that ever happened so rarely, and Marcos and Paris sat together, which wasn't surprising, the male stayed with Ace and his new friends most of the time but always gravitated to him the other times.
As they sat, the Principal got on the stage, talking about things that he never really cared about and then suddenly mentioned a name that had his ears perking up.
"We usually never announce this because Miss Parker— Didn't like this," He said, adjusting his glasses uncomfortably as he stared at the paper on the podium. "But since she's gone —"
Paris stiffened at that word.
"We have a new student at the top spot," He said, looking up, pushing his glasses back. "Paris Holmes?"
At that moment, the whole hall stayed silent, Marcos freezing and Paris— Paris was staring, his eyes wide. When Principal Umar spotted him in the crowd, a smile showed on his face as he said, "There you are. You've wanted this for so long and it's your turn to shine. Come on up,"
You've wanted this for so long...
A hand rested on his, Paris turning as he saw Marcos looking at him. The male stared at him, his brown eyes warming as he gave a nod.
Something he knew meant 'It's fine.'
Was it?
Still, he went on the stage, hearing the whole school burst into an encore as he did so. The Basketball team hooting when he shook the Principal's hand, receiving an envelope, and when he looked back at the crowd, found Marcos smiling at him.
After school, everyone wanted talking to him again. Abel, Matteo. Every single fucking person that avoided him, talking to him because he had bettered Alex. Like that was supposed to make him feel good?
But he didn't act that way. Instead, he acted exactly like he always did. Cool. Chill. Collected. And immediately he got home, walked straight to his Father's study and slammed the award on his table.
Sebastian, who was still as busy as usual, stared up from the table, looking at Paris as the male said, "I'm the best in Wystwood High. Are you happy now?"
His Father stared at him, then slowly, rose the paper up, his eyes scrolling through it before he let out a small sigh, returning it back on the table and saying, "If there's anything else—"
"That's all I get?" Paris asked. "You sending me away? No 'congratulations'? No 'I'm proud of you'? Nothing?'
"Paris," Sebastian looked at him now. "I'm sure you can tell that I'm busy—"
"I fucking did this for you!" Paris snapped, slamming his hand on the table. "I— I literally— Do you have any idea the things I did, to get here?"
I stayed by her side. I worshipped her. I let her do whatever she wanted. I fell in love with her. And she can't even fucking remember any of that.
"For me?" Sebastian asked, disapproval in his voice. "Don't throw a tantrum like a child. This, is clearly for your sake. You know what happens after your graduation so do not say that it is for me."
"How can you still want to do that?" Paris asked, "You know that you don't have to. What the fuck are you punishing me for?"
Sebastian suddenly pressed his lips together, his hand going back to his file. "If you have nothing else to say—"
"Father. I did not kill Zephyr."
His Father stiffened, his eyes slowly looking up at Paris, the anger in them evident as he said, his voice holding back a rage of many years. "Get out of my office or—"
"Or what?" Paris asked. "You think there's anything you could do right now that would terrify me? Scare me? I've done— I've done shits that would terrify anyone. I've faced my fears, and I've met someone that's taught me to do what the fuck I want. You have no right, to hate me, for something that I can barely remember."
"How can you remember anything with that stupid brain of yours?" Sebastian demanded, standing. The hate he had held on, for so many years showing as he did so. "You were never the bright one."
"But I'm the one still alive."
His Father seethed immediately, his hand flying across Paris' face. "How dare you?"
The story of the Holmes was something no one ever spoke about because it was never a good beginning. Sebastian Holmes and Elise Wellington were highschool sweethearts, and though the female had loved him as much as anyone would love their other half, Sebastian had only planned to use her as a resting place since she was the daughter of a very known and rich politician and he needed financial support when his turn for the Holmes Test began, but unfortunately, she had gotten pregnant through the whole thing and he was tied to her. Forever.
To hide his shame, and because he couldn't stand her, he locked her up in the house, telling everyone else she was too sick to leave, or just didn't require people's attention. Something that permanently destroyed whatever relationship Elise with her family, and friends.
Yet, on the day she delivered, she had surprised Sebastian.
Twins.
Two boys that couldn't be any different. One with blond hair and blue eyes, looking like the fairest thing to ever exist that was sweet and quiet, and the other with black hair and green eyes that was fiery even from birth.
Sebastian, of course, took to the one that came out first, and called him Zephyr, and since he never cared for two children from Elise, as he didn't love her even to begin with, gave her the choice to name her child and she gave him Paris.
The first months of their life, Sebastian let Elise be, allowing her to even start a garden and take care of the twins, and though it was clear that Zephyr was his favorite child, and heir, Paris, the second one, was clearly smarter.
He crawled faster, learnt quicker, and was the first to walk before Zephyr did. It seemed as if the child did all of this, just to prove to his Father that he was worthy of his love and attention just as his twin was, but Sebastian could barely give one fuck about him.
It had been on their first year birthday when tragedy struck. Paris had ran away when his caretaker was cleaning him, going to the stairs and managing to go two stair below before his caretaker caught up with him, but his twin had seen this, and Elise... Elise had just looked away for one second, just a second and the next thing she knew.
Zephyr was down a flight of stairs. Dead.
It was obviously no one's fault, but Sebastian didn't care about that. He cleared out every existence of Zephyr and punished every single person, Elise never being let out of her room, and Paris—
Paris was ignored, learning how to grow on his own. Survive as much as he could by himself.
The boy stayed silent, his head bowed down. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes but he didn't let them as he looked at his Father, his voice steady but under it, tired. "For as long as I can remember, I have sought after your approval, but now, now I know nothing I ever do will be enough. You'd never— Forgive me for something I had no control of, and that... That is fine," Then his green eyes flared. "But I have nothing to prove to you anymore, and after I graduate, you'd never have to bother with me anymore. I promise," And walked out of the office.
~
Paris stood outside Marcos' house, watching as his Mother tried standing from her wheelchair, an effort that had the now platinum blond with blue and pink tips haired male clapping happily causing him to let out a small chuckle.
Elise had only found it hard to walk because she had bedridden for a long time, but lately, she seemed to be doing better, walking around the house with Marcos and Maria, Abuela always cheering her on with some Spanish dish that she knew his Mother liked.
Everything seemed peaceful. Quiet. But... But it didn't feel complete.
Looking at them, he realized many times that it felt like they were glamoured, that this was what everyone saw, felt, but deep down, they knew things wouldn't be the same, and what made it truly worse was the fact that they all knew she was alive, and well.
But they could never reach out for her.
It drove him crazy, and he knew Marcos felt the same, but it was okay for a while. Except now, with everything that had happened today, he needed her.
He needed her to tell him everything would be fine. That he didn't make the wrong choice. That she— She was proud of him, and would always be.
Paris rested on his car, a frown now gracing his face. Fuck, he couldn't be like this. He needed something to occupy his mind with. Anything.
Turning, he took out his car key, ready to drive anywhere, and be alone for a while before he saw the reflection of the men in suits behind him.
He paused now, asking, "What is it?"
"Our Boss asks for you to come with us," The one in front stated, face in a poker expression.
"And who's your Boss?"
"Alexander Parker."
Paris stilled, the name echoing in his head. Why would that male ask of him? He knew that Xander never liked him so why now? It sounded wrong. Not a good idea.
But his curiosity won eventually.
The men drove him in their own car to a warehouse, the area looking completely abandoned as they passed a checkpoint before heading into one of the buildings.
The place dark, the only source of light coming from the evening sun from outside. They walked ahead, moving him through different rooms before taking him to one that was completely dark.
The room smelled... Bad. Stunk. Of sweat, piss... And blood. A lot of blood.
"Boss," The one that seemed like the leader called out. "He's here,"
At those words, someone let out a long sigh and then put on a lighter.
Alexander Parker stood shirtless with a cigarette stick in between his lips. The flame from the lighter accentuating his figure.
His blond hair stuck to his face, red splatters all over it. And when he lit the cigarette, his left hand completely bloodied held it out of his lips and he exhaled, his voice completely different from how Paris remembered it as he asked, "Did he put up a fight?"
"No, Boss."
"Hmm," Was all he said before Paris felt the male beside him, saying, "Follow me," And walked out of the room.
After a few turns and corners, they reached a more brighter room, with clean air, and enough light. Paris watched as Alexander walked to a table, the tattoos on his back visible and sat behind it before saying, "You can sit."
Paris did.
Alexander moved around his seat, hand under his chin, the cigarette dangling from his lips. Blood on his chest, every part of him to be exact. "You're awfully quiet."
"You brought me," Paris said, his face blank. "Should I be the one speaking first?"
"You saw me killing someone," Xander stated, blowing out smoke, his blue eyes glowing, and as blunt as that statement was, Paris tried his hardest not to react to it. "Does that not affect you?"
"It's none of my business,"
The blonde stared at him, a small dark smile coming to his lips before he asked, "Have you heard of the name, Carnefecina?"
Paris felt his eyebrows raise, the name sounding oddly familiar, the other male saying, "It's the name of the Italian Mafia. It means Carnage. Destructive. Chaos," Then he said with a blank look on his face. "I am the Boss over the Family."
Paris stayed silent, staring at the male's face, waiting for an explanation. Firstly because— Because what could he even say to that in the first place? And— And why was he telling him?
"The person before me, was Donna Ginerva," Xander continued, dangling the cigarette in his lips. "My Mother who had a one night stand with my Father. After she had my twin, Andrea, and I, she realized her line of business was too dangerous for children... And sent us over to Nolan, my Father, a growing politician to protect us. It was some years ago she found me and made me the next in line."
Xander paused, taking out the cigarette and blowing out smoke again, letting out a small tired sigh, now staring at the stick. "We, the Carnefecina, are many things. Have many names. But there is one thing we abide by. Order. It sounds ironic, but it is true. We maintain a balance between the world above, and the one below. We do jobs that most people— Are too terrified to. That the Police would never have the stomach for, and we make sure the Underground stays covered, never leaning too much out of their place while the people above pay us well."
Paris stared at the male in front of him. Somehow, he could tell Xander didn't want to be here, or had somewhere else to be, but expected him to ask questions. So he did. "What is the Italian's Boss doing all the way here?"
"I'm never always here," He answered, giving a small shrug as he flicked the butt of the cigarette on his ashtray. "Staying in Italy constantly would be too— Dangerous, and here is quite safer. Nolan is a Senator with great power and my husband, Hezekiah also runs an agency that protects rich people, mostly from people like me, and other things."
"And he knows what you are?"
A small smile came to his lips. "He was the first to know," He leaned back to the chair now. "About three years ago, when rumours began that I was the possible heir of Carnefecina, Nolan, to protect me enlisted the help of Hezekiah Parker, an ex militant that had been put off because he lost his leg at the battlefront. His job was for him and his agents to keep me safe. It was the beginning of his agency and it wasn't doing so well but he owed my Father so he did it. Hezekiah was the one who trained me as what I am now, and somewhere in between all of it, we fell in love and got married."
Married.
He was not... As affected as he usually was, but he wasn't exactly in the mood to hear that word. "Why are you telling me all of this?"
"I had no idea Hezekiah had a family until after our wedding," Xander said, his jaws clenching. "I was upset. Understandably so, but I loved him so I forgave. I was the one who advised him to take the twins so we could protect them as my job— My job wasn't safe for them to live with a civilian Mother. And I had asked him to take Alex as well, but we all know how she is so we had to make do with what we had. Keeping eyes on her everytime,"
The School being completely terrified of talk about her. Alex doing whatever she wanted because she knew she was protected.
"Still," There was a small smile coming to his face as he touched his chin with his bloodstained finger. "Alex found out about Allure, the BDSM section anyway, and the day Hezekiah gave her the credit card, she spent all of it on getting half of what I had in that section. He had been befuddled, any Father would have been, but she didn't stop there. After that, when she was sixteen, walked straight to our house and told me to teach her how to use all she had gotten."
"I suppose she had done it only to spite Hezekiah, and I wanted to return the favour— But I was wrong. Yes, she wanted to hurt him, but... But she wanted the feeling of— Of having a family, somehow. Though she would never have admitted it, that she saw me as a... Family figure. It's one reason she calls me Alex because... Because according to her, it's a bond we would always share as one," His voice grew soft as he looked at the signet ring on Paris' finger. "And one day, I presented her with the ring you wear,
He looked at it. The top of it holding the yellow stone glittered, Xander saying,"As we maintain Order, every new Don of Carnefecina gets the tattoo of all nine planets on their back. A sign of balance. Perfection. Something beautiful from chaos, but every Don that rules, is given two things. A ring called Halo that reminds one of the Sun, to show their power over other things and the other, a crescent moon with a star, to be given to who the Don keeps higher than themselves. In other words, if there's a life or death situation, also called Venus bearer's life would be put first before the Don himself,"
Venus. Also called the brightest star in the sky. The Roman equivalent of Aphrodite.
Mother of Eros.
"I gave the Hallo to Alex, so she would be next after me, but she constantly refused. Going as far as getting a crescent tattoo on her chest so she wouldn't have to get the planets one," Xander said, "The only reason you have it is because she wants you after me."
"It wasn't supposed to go like this,"
Paris looked at Alexander, his heart quickening though he kept a straight face. "We both know you don't want this. Not me at least,"
"When I gave that ring to her, I relinquished all power I had over to her, and she has handed all of that to you. Perhaps, she didn't plan for you to do it all on your own but as long as you wear it, I have no other choice but to comply. Or would you return it?"
Return it?
It... It was the first gift she had given him. She— He couldn't do that.
"Alex wanted you and Elise safe from Sebastian, Paris,"
Paris looked at Xander, his eyes narrowing. "How do you know of that?"
"I keep an eye on her, always," He replied, "So we can say I know everything. The bet. The plan of using her. So did she as well, but she wanted you protected. Its all she ever cared for."
"Well, where the fuck is she now?" Paris heard himself snap. "She wants me doing what? Killing people? Leading a fucking mafia? If she wanted that, she shouldn't have forgotten us."
"If she had a choice, do you think she'd choose to forget you?" Alexander asked, "Or Bunny? Let's face it. I don't like the fact she doesn't remember me either. Do you think it's going to be easy to tell an eighteen year old that her Father is married to you, all over again, and feel guilty for every single thing that happens after? Do you think I like the fact she has forgotten that she once cared about me? But my Alex is still alive. I don't give a shit what Hezekiah says. Even if she might not regain her memories, she is still my daughter and so help me God, I will retain her wishes till she dies. And you will as well. Do you fucking understand me?"
Paris stared at the male in front of him, his cloudy eyes blinking as he looked back at the ring, staring at it again before he heard Alexander stand from his seat, sighing, "I understand. This is... Too much, and I won't force you to do anything you want, but right now, I have something that might keep you busy as you make your choice."
He turned to find the male wearing a suit, still with blood all over him, raking his hair back with his hand as Paris asked, "And what would that be?"
"I have my twin, Andrea, in a basement below us," Alexander said, "Nolan, Hezekiah and I signed a blood pact to be unable to hurt one another, so after... After the shit he pulled with Marcos, bruising and hitting him, he knows I can't do anything," Then he faced Paris, a crazy glint in his eyes. "But you can."
"Why would I hurt someone?"
"Because you, Paris Holmes," Xander drawled, walking to him, the crazy glint now growing into a wild fire as he grinned, holding his chin. "Never cares for anyone, and yet, somehow, that little bunny has found a way into your heart."
Paris said nothing.
"Your relationship with Marcos," Xander continued, "One of a brother to the other. Sworn to protect. And provide. And love. While you were with Alex, you still acted as the bridge between them, the balance. Without you... Without you, I suppose certain things would never have happened, but you strengthened them. Love is never enough in a relationship, Paris. And yet, you... Yet, you, somehow made two people love you as much as they loved themselves."
Then he stood, clasping his hands together. "Anyway, it's none of my business, but if you ever want to play with him, he's all yours chap," Then with a pat on Paris' shoulder, walked out of the room.
The dark haired male sat there quietly, thousands of thoughts running through his head. This still felt... Surreal. A mafia? Alexander seemed well fitted for it. But him? Yes, he had some problems, but he was never— He couldn't.
Fuck.
He took his phone out of his pocket, video calling Marcos and after a few rings, the male picked.
Lately, he wore his butterfly accessories all the time. The clips in place, with the necklace, and—
And the rings.
The butterfly rings on one hand, and on his left, in the middle finger, was a sterling silver crescent moon and star open ring. His face in a happy one as he waved at Paris, "You. Where are you?"
Paris felt a smile come to his face as he said, "Hey, Marcos."
Marcos stared at him for a few seconds, then said something in the background and after a few seconds of running around, raised the screen back to his face. Paris could tell the male was now in his room, a worried expression on his face. "Are you okay?"
It amazed Paris how Marcos read him easily. Maybe that was how the boy had always been. Trying to be the best emotional support for him. Marcos wasn't... Wasn't the strongest, or bravest, but when he cared for someone, he used all he had.
And Paris... Paris had never had someone actually put him, before themselves, except Alex, even though hers came with certain things. Marcos... Purely cared for him.
And someone had hurt him.
A weird feeling erupted in his chest at the thought of it. The fact that someone could actually... Hurt Marcos. Someone could harm him. And still live...
"Paris?" The worry on his face grew now. "Is— Is something wrong?"
"No," Paris replied immediately, his hand reaching out to rub his temples. Fuck, this was getting to him. "Everything's— Everything's fine,"
"Don't lie to me." Marcos said, and though he was trying to act tough, Paris heard his voice quiver. "Are you— Are you tired of putting up with me? I know— I know I can be a little too much, and maybe I'm coming on a little too strong—"
"Jesus, you're sounding like you've been trying to ask me out," Paris cut in softly, the male on the screen pausing, before he sighed and said, "I— I was born a twin, and I know you know this but I never... I never knew him long enough. So I suppose... That it feels a little good to have one at the moment."
"Paris,"
"I know, I know," He said, shaking his head. "I'm just saying... I'm just saying that my Mother and I, we see you as one of us. And— And I'm not ready, or planning to lose a person from my family again."
Marcos stared, a small smile on his face before he quickly brushed them away. "Why can't you always be like this?"
"Because it's disgusting," Paris said, a scoff leaving his lips, then added in a softer tone. "We'd get through this together, okay?"
Marcos nodded, the happy smile back on his face as he said quietly, "Okay."
And no one else will ever dare hurt us again. No matter what.