Suddenly, I am pulled away, and Tytas' body is pushed. The body in black with no masks on—he's here.
"Huh," I gasp,
"Don't fucking touch her," Zygmunt says as he holds my hand so tight. Tytas is shocked and speechless, "Yeah, I'm not gone." he says,
Tytas shifts his eyes to me and back to Zygmunt confusingly, "You think you can come back here and take her away?" he asks,
"You heard her—her heart belongs to me," Zygmunt says proudly,
That noise was from him, so he was eavesdropping.
"So? You weren't here for the past two years—I was the one." Tytas says calmly and gazes at me and my hand, which is held by Zygmunt. He walks closer, fearing nothing about the bigger man before him, "Let her go," He orders closely to Zygmunt.
"You don't deserve her, Oskar," Zygmunt calls out his family name,
"Hmpt, and you do?" Tytas says back.
I can feel Zygmunt's nerve under his skin; he grabs me tightly and pulls me behind him. Suddenly, Tytas grabs the same arm. Zygmunt pushes him immediately, but Tytas doesn't back down,
"She's with me," Tytas says in his deep voice, angrily I can tell.
"Don't be illusional, Oskar." Zygmunt uses his forearm against Tytas' chest while Tytas pushes himself as he pulls me toward him. "I won't say twice. Move your hand." Zygmunt doesn't raise his voice higher, but he raises his arm to push him away, and before he pulls his arm back, Tytas punches him in the face,
"No," I say
Then Zygmunt lets go of my hand and punches Tytas back. His face almost hits the ground, but he manages to balance himself on the ground. I know Zygmunt's strength. Tytas' face must be messed up—he's bleeding. Tytas quickly approaches Zygmunt with his fist and is about to punch him. Zygmunt dodges and punches him again.
"Fuck—stop please," I say, and then Zygmunt halts his fist and turns his face to me, but Tytas has a chance. He pulls Zygmunt back and punches him so hard at his jawline. Zygmunt clenches his jaw so hard. I notice his silver eyes are darkened, and he turns his body to Tytas, hits him once, and hits him twice.
Tytas, he will be dead. I quickly run to grab Zygmunt's arm and drag him so hard, "Please stop," He pauses, but his eyes are still glaring at Tytas.
"Ptui!" Tytas's blood is all over his nose, and also his saliva that he just splits out. I am so shocked. I let go of Zygmunt's arm and help Tytas. He looks at me with his eyes that are a bit disappointed, and I feel my tears running up again, "Zia…" He says lightly,
"I'm so sorry," I say,
"Please," He wipes his blood away from his nose, and he's about to hold my face when my tear runs down.
Zygmunt comes nearer, and I turn my face to him, "Stop," I say, and I can feel Tytas eyes are on me; then he holds my face, rubs my cheeks, "Tytas, I'm sorry,"
"I know," he says and wipes my tears. "I love you, I always have," then I wipe his blood on his lips, through his little smirk, "You care for me,"
Zygmunt hears everything and is about to approach us. Tytas is trying to get up, and I support him by holding his arm, "I look so pathetic," he says,
"No—Tytas, I care for you, truly," I say, and my tear runs down again, "but,"
"Please don't say that word again, Zia—not in front of me." He stops me, "I told you I don't care." he looks at me and shifts his eyes to Zygmunt, who clenches his fist aggressively, "I'm not backing down." He says,
"You should," Zygmunt says,
"Please," I beg, "I don't want to end it like this,"
"End? No, this is not the end," Tytas pauses. I'll go—I respect your decision, Zia." He lays his forehead on mine and slightly moves down to kiss me. He ignores Zygmunt, who is about to grab Tytas' collar. He pulls him away from the kiss, and I notice Tytas's smile curling up insanely. I think I can hear his little laugh inside my head.
"Zygmunt," I call him, "please just go. We should go." I say to him lightly. He calms himself a little and looks back at me. Suddenly, he carries me up over his shoulder from the dirt, and we leave Tytas there with the mud and blood.
Zygmunt showed his face in daylight for the first time, and he chose Tytas to be the first audience, and shit; caviar was everywhere, I got only one raspberry, moist dirt all over, dirty mud, and they bleed. I didn't expect him to come out of nowhere; Tytas was more stubborn than I thought. That is one of the most memorable picnics ever. He rode the bike and put me in front of him, taking me to his house instead of mine.
He doesn't wait for me to get off his bike; he carries me, takes me to the house, and puts me down on the couch in silence. I watch him pacing. Possibly, he is trying to calm his nerves so as not to be too angry at Tytas or me. I look down on the vintage carpet, put my feet together, and lay my hands close to my thighs. In an instant, he kneels on one knee, lays one hand next to the hand, touches it, and holds it gently. The other hand of his, he holds my face up to see me properly, but I still avoid his eyes. Then I feel the soft cloth that he wipes on my lips, Tytas' blood when he kissed me. I slowly look at him. His glare is soft enough to let me be brave to be myself again. He turns to look away from the blood to my eyes and patiently wipes all the things off. I notice his little scar, and it starts to get purple on the jaw and in the corner of his mouth. I touch his lips and lightly wipe the blood, which is about to dry out.
"I'm sorry," I say. I thought…it would be uneasy for sure, but I never thought it would end up hurting physically." I say lightly, pulling my hand away. It's my fault."
He catches my hand instantly, "it's my fault I made you do it, and I couldn't hold myself back—that boy kissed you." he says more in a grunting way.
"You didn't make me do it, Zyg—" I say and move to the edge of the couch, closer to him. "I just…"
"You care for him…I know," He clenches his jaw, "He's good to you, I understand so," he holds my face, caressing my little jaw and neck, "It must be hard and overwhelmed…I let you alone," he says,
He's about to get up and walk away from me, and then my heart, which is slowly shrinking, is rising up. I take his hand, pull him to me, and he turns his body and face to be direct to me, "Don't leave me," I say; he looks me into my eyes, approaches me slowly, holding me, and puts his face inside my neck. He sniffs my scent, and then I hug him so tight, "Be with me, don't leave me alone, promise?"
He breathes me loudly, holds me back, and carries me up. He turns himself to sit on the couch and puts me on his lap while holding my body as if he's afraid to break it on every move. "I promise with my soul," he says,
The huge white and black building mixes and matches baroque and French styles, a bit like a Greek castle in methodology. The boy, who is tall and fit with an elegant suit, is holding a coat in his hand, and another hand holding his nose, which is bleeding red, running down his dark navy blue shirt. He stomped himself, entering his sweet home. The eyes of the maids and butlers are widened, especially the woman whose ginger hair brightly shining through the hall—the mother; she quickly stops smiling and hurriedly runs to her son, holding her son's arm and trying so hard to look at the blood on his face.
"WHAT HAPPENED!?" she shouts with worry, but her son doesn't give any damn care about his mother's words. "TYTAS!!" she shouts again while running after her son. Tytas doesn't open his mouth; he keeps walking to his special place. But his mother doesn't back down; she keeps following him and trying to catch his arms. "TELL ME NOW, WHO DID THAT TO YOU!? AND WHERE IS LETIZIA?"
Then, Tytas turns his face to his mother. "Can you stop, please? I want to be alone for now. Don't do anything. I'll take care of myself." He says it with a calm voice, but furious energy and his green eyes aren't peaceful like before. His mother pauses and lets her son enter his room.
Tytas throws his coat, stomping into his bathroom. Seeing himself in the mirror with the blood on his nose, over his mouth, and the scars on his jaw and mouth. He bows his head, washes his face aggressively, and looks up at his reflection again. He starts to smirk and makes a little sound in his throat, clenches his jaw, and leaves the bathroom. He goes straight to the black door, entering his secret lair where all his collection is on the dark red wallpaper, the red couch that is huge enough for 5 to 6 people to lie down. He walks, pacing in the room in silence. Silently and slowly, looking around the wall, running his eyes all over. and then putting himself on the couch.
He's thinking and planning how to handle frustrating, unexpected situations. The girl he has loved for almost his whole life has been waiting for, and he had a chance to have her by his side and almost had her heart. He replays everything that he has done for her and focuses on how she reacts. She appreciated every gesture he gave to her, undoubtedly because she was a sweet girl. She was okay and handled his unexpected behavior well; even Vik happened, even when he kissed her without permission, even when he took her here—in this room. She let him touch her body, every part he wanted, and moreover, she enjoyed his touch. Surprisingly, she touched and used her mouth on his part. He felt so out of this world; he was in heaven. Just thinking about it, his part is getting hard, but he doesn't want to touch and jerk himself because of the tragedy, sadly and madly tragedy. He won't give up and let his love get away again. No one is as perfectly perfect for him as Letizia Serafinne, which he knows from the beginning; he laid eyes on her. And the way she would do anything and accept every darkness, every side of him so no one—no one except her.
He pulls out his phone, presses the digit, and presses call.
"We need to talk—THAT FUCKER BATANT IS BACK," he says,