Let's Kill Caesar

22: Cicero isn't an idiot

Endymion almost collapsed with relief. He didn't see the slump of Alma's shoulders, didn't hear Cato scoff with venom. Endymion smiled, hand pressed to his stomach, breath coming in short bursts. Thank the gods. Thank you.

The crowd was beginning to disperse, mutterings of a 'pointless assembly' jumping from mouth to mouth. Faces were a mixture of joy and contempt, lips spitting fire and expressions of praise. Endymion could only stand there, eyes fixed on Bast. Pompey whispered something in his ear with a flash of a serene quirk of the lips. Bastian's neck flinched away, eyes blinking widely as he spied Endymion in the crowd. With Cato. A sharp pain awoke in the pit of his stomach. 

"Hey Brutus." Cicero tapped his back. Endymion turned slowly, one eye still following his friend. Alma's brows were knit together as she nodded toward where the Senate house loomed. Her voice cut like ice. "Let's talk over there, hey?"

Endymion chewed his lip, cheeks paling. Vero was laughing with Narcissus totally unaware of the retreating Bastian, the shade of his face as he descended from the rostra. Antony was in tow. It's nothing, he lied. Endymion could hardly breathe as Bast flashed a glance over his shoulder. Their gazes met. Shit. 

Endymion's tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. Bastian was just staring, lips parted. "Bas-"

Before Endymion could run over, explain this, Alma snatched him by the arm and tugged him away. Endymion's feet stumbled against the pavement, neck aching as he arched it back, words clogging his throat. But Bast didn't turn back, Cassiel's arm draped over his shoulders snugly.

Endymion jerked away from Cicero. "What the Orcus, Alma?"

She didn't even bother to look at him. "I stopped you from making a stupid mistake, you idiot."

"I don't-"

"Oh shut up Brutus," Alma growled, pulling on his arm. "You're a shit liar. Don't insult me, kid."

She yanked him forward, boots echoing against the pavement. No one spared a glance at them as Cicero dragged Endymion into a shadowy gazebo just off from the Senate house.

Her eyes were practically burning, lips pursed tightly. Endymion shuffled his feet. Just say it so I can get this lie over with. 

Cicero crossed her arms, leaned against the wooden railing of the gazebo. Her neck tilted a little. Alma's voice was dry. "I like this spot." 

Endymion glanced airily around. The gazebo was made of arching beams and draping of thick bougainvillea. Paint peeled in mint-green curls and faded ceramic tiles rose and fell. 

"It's nice," Endymion replied quietly. It wasn't a good time to say they were lucky the old wood didn't collapse on top of them. Especially with the way those silvery eyes settled on him. 

Alma smirked and raked ah and through her ashy brown curls. "Do you know why I like it?"

Not rhetorical. Cold sweat formed on Endymion's top lips as the pregnant pause thudded down between them. A challenge. Answer quickly then. 

"People don't come here - that's it, isn't it?"

He hated how much he wanted to be right. Alma nodded slowly. "Somewhat. Aside from that, there is the seclusion. A literal curtain of thorns and flowers separates us from all else. Rather useful...in politics."

Endymion swallowed, voice husky. "Yes. I suppose."

alma took a fews steps toward him. That calculating gleam winked out. A warmth crept across her skin as she tentatively took Endymion's hand. 

"I've noticed. You know that." Her voice was soft, hesitant even. Pity. A small squeeze of the hand. She pities me. 

Endymion's tongue scratched like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth. "I have no clue what you're on about."

A coy laughed as she ripped her hand away. Dry trepidation danced in Cicero's eyes as she spat, "You can play that game with anyone but me." 

Endymion clenched his jaw. His heartbeat throbbed in the back of his ears as Alma stared. You can hold it together for a few minutes - she'll lose interest. She always does. Endymion's mind flashed back to the morning Alma had called him inside out of pure nosiness. He was royally fucked.

Cicero cocked her head, glasses sliding down her nose a little. Her mouth stayed shut. Endymion dug his nails into the railing. She's trying get something out - just shut your gob. 

The quiet was nail biting. Alma just looked at him with the intensity of intelligence. Trying to solve the puzzle, hack into Endymion. The vines rustled gently as small birds flew back and forth, feathers dull with winter. Behind them voices melded into the symphony of Rome; authoritative shouts and old whispers of grandeur. 

Endymion's foot tapped restlessly against the risen tiles, teeth gnawing on the inside of his lip. A few more seconds and she'll walk away. She will say she'd disinterested as if I had an ego to prod. Know-it-all prat.

"I know the waiting game," Cicero snickered quietly. "I know your moves, Endymion." 

Here it is! Endymion scrunched up his toes in eager anticipation, waiting for her to sport the charade, like he was a man with a name. 

Alma smiled prettily. "I'm not going anywhere, slick."

What? Endymion could stop his face from falling. Cicero grinned and pat his cheek. "You really think I'm that stupid? Brutus give me some credit!"

He crossed his arms, close to giving way to his panic. It was a growing itch at the back of his throat. Endymion took a step back, shoulders brushing against the thorns of the bougainvillea; he was caught between two poisons.

"I honestly have no clue what you're on about Cicero. There's nothing to discover here."

"That's the most composed bullshit my little ears have heard. Don't fucking insult me."

Alma gave his shoulder a hard shove into the wooden beam at his back. Endymion gasped, completely winded by her brazenness. He'd never seen Cicero so shaken. Her eyes flickered with an icy flame, her lips drawn back into a harsh snarl. What fresh Hades is this? 

Endymion stumbled away from her, hair slick with sweat. He rasped, "Alma, please." 

The woman laughed harshly, tongue running along her her teeth as she tilted her head. "If there is nothing to know, why beg?"

A muscle in Endymion's jaw feathered. The words hung heavy between them. Cicero shrugged, brow deepening. Endymion's voice was fragile as glass. "You know why. Be a friend."

Endymion's fingers dug into the folds of his toga as she paused, eyes trailing over his face. Be a friend. That's all I need. 

Cicero sighed, eyes scrunched shut as she pinched the tip of her nose. "Fine."

endymion's head shot up hopefully. Alma was nodding but she didn't look him in the eye. 

"I'll be a friend. But listen - the more you run from this, the worse it gets."

"I don't think so," Endymion said.

Cicero snorted, eyes turned upward. "That's what they all said. So be it, Brutus." She shot him a grim smile. "You're lucky i am an ally. I will make sure you are careful - we can't have a scandal on our hands, kid."