(Not) Destined To Be

Meeting Again

The next day was the commotion in the streets impossible to stay unnoticed. John was walking towards the university, but he had to pass London Square, which was nearly impossible at this moment. But how come that the square was so overly-packed this early in the morning? The answer came, as John mentally called for it, in the form of a voice John could already recognize out of thousands.

“People, aren’t we all human? Aren’t we all equal? While we, the middle class and poverty, struggle to keep our home, to get the food on the table and set a future for our next generations, the upper class sits there in their warm houses, doing nothing but laughing at us! When our children beg for a bit of food or money, they hit them! They hit our children, our future! Why should we allow that to happen? Why should we allow the upper class being like this? We deserve a good life as much as they do. Hear my words and spread them. Spread the call for revolution in my name, in the name of Zelfonus!” London Square grew amazingly loud and even though John felt himself going deaf, he smiled and cheered for this fighter. When the people started to ebb away, John could get a clear vision of Zelfonus and the two people next to him. One was almost just as muscled as Zelfonus, while the other had a very slim and slender figure.

Shifting his gaze back to the man he admired, he locked eyes with him. John quickly looked away, but he felt Zelfonus’ eyes scanning him from head to toe and possibly back. John wanted to walk away, but he didn’t somehow. “And what are you staring at? Make a move you-“

“Robert! Will you quiet down?” Zelfonus put his hand on the slim man’s chest and looked strictly at him. The man, who seemingly was called Robert, glared shortly at him, but then turned his head away. “Yes, my liege.” Zelfonus nodded firmly and removed his hand.

John felt the fighter’s eyes back on him. He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it not exactly knowing what to say. “If you want to say something, say it now.” John looked up and locked gazes again with Zelfonus. The seemingly older man’s eyes were nearly black, unlike John’s light blue eyes. “I want to help you”, John spoke softly but quickly. He wanted to hit himself for starting with such an impolite first statement. He stuttered and dropped his books. A gasp left his mouth and he quickly kneeled down to pick them up. When he stood back up he extended one hand for a handshake, while holding his books shakily with his other arm.

The chuckle of Zelfonus rumbled through his ears causing him to blush in response. “Zelfonus, it’s nice to meet you.” The taller man gave him a firm handshake. John liked the touch; it felt trusted despite not knowing the man at all. He had warm, scarred hands, making them comfortable, but rough. “John Holl, it’s an honour to meet you. I saw you for the first time yesterday and you were literally magnificent! You got such a good way with words mister Zelfonus. Also, what an exotic name you got.” It took John a while to realise he was ranting on and on. He quickly straightened his position and cleared his throat. He stuttered again for a few times before getting out that he really had to go. Without waiting for a reply, John ran off; he was late for university anyway.

John’s concentration span had never been so short. His mind constantly wandered off to Zelfonus. The words of the man touched him and inspired him. But how to get close to the fighter? John thought about that question throughout the day. When classes ended he sighed and carried on his daily business deciding to think of something after watching Zelfonus fight tonight.

“John, are you okay?” John looked up from his plate. Charles looked worried at him. John tried to avoid his gaze, but then he met those of others. “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” Charles exchanged looks with Louis searching for a little bit of help in the situation. “Well mister Holl, you had been oddly quiet today.” A shiver went down John’s spine. Louis rarely called him mister Holl. He still couldn’t find a pattern in when Louis would call him John or mister Holl. John sighed and faced his plate again. “Charles, would you please accompany me tonight on my evening stroll?” Charles hummed and focused back on the delicate meal Edward had served that evening. John’s voice had this tone, which was only used when John had something serious to discuss with Charles. Little did Charles already notice John’s behaviour when the lad came oddly late home and was a bit distant. John never was a man of many words, but was always a man of wise words.