Emil stood at the other side of his father's cell, his arms crossed, looking livid. On the other side, his father was laid back against the corner of a wall, looking miserable and depressed.
"You know, you deserve what's currently happening to you." Emil muttered, a low growl hinted in his voice. He was no closer than four inches away from the bars, just in case something could happen. "How long has it been... a week, now?" Without letting his father respond, he laughed a bit from amusement. "How long are you here for? Like...what, a lifetime? Responsible for successful murder of Yuni Harbroken, your own daughter, attempted murder of your own son, and child abuse stretched out from years ago to a week ago."
"I'm sick, Emil." That was the only thing his father could manage to say. He looked up at him, barely being able to see him. "They aren't treating me, you know. They said it's a fatal illness that could kill me within the next week."
Emil stared blankly at him. "Like I said, you deserve everything that is coming to you. It serves you right, for being so horrible."
"Where are you going to be going next?" He croaked, hardly able to keep himself sitting up against the wall.
"Wouldn't you like to know? Why does it matter, father? You aren't going to be seeing me after this visit. Like you're making it sound, you won't be around to see me. This is the last time you're going to see any of your family members." He turned his back away from him. "Goodbye."
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Emil invited himself into a local hotel that was around the area, having enough money to get around a week in staying days and nights. He got shocked looks from people around him when he told people that worked at the hotel his name, considering he was supposed to be the young boy that was dead. It was all over the news, and everyone seemed to believe it. However, he had told everyone that knew his name to keep silent, and not to let anyone know. So far, people still consider him as deceased.
He walked into his given hotel room, room 21, and sat down on one of the beds. He sighed, heaving his bag off his shoulders and down onto the floor next to him at his feet. He wasn't sure why he was still doing this; making people think he wasn't alive, and that he was dead. He was sure, however, that Jason knew it was him that saved him that night, at the bridge. He figured he was going to tell everyone he knew that he was alive, but maybe he hadn't... news would have already gotten out into the world all over the place.
He thought that Jason hated him by now. He did only arrive when he was about to kill himself then disappear again, after all. He knew he wouldn't have been forgiven, and if he was, it would be a very small chance that he didn't think would happen. He hated himself for it, and regretted it every second of his current life. Not that he saved Jason, he would never regret something like that, but that he was gone again. He knew Jason would want to see him again, to have proof that he was alive and such, but decided against it.
He looked at his phone, and saw no notifications since the incident. Or, at least, no notifications from Jason. He had hoped, but he knew it wasn't a chance. Either he wasn't fully recovered and out of the hospital, or his phone was shattered from the near fall off the bridge.
He remembered that while he was holding Jason in his arms, he felt his head covered in blood. His forehead, to be exact. The guilt that was flooding in his brain from injuring him so badly was becoming too much for his head. Sure, he saved him, but he was the reason why Jason was in the hospital in the first place. His first plan after saving him from jumping was to just carry him over to his house, but instead, had to reroute to the hospital because he felt his blood drip off his forehead and onto himself.
He was beginning to overthink. He grabbed onto his hair, unsteadily breathing. Jason hated him, he knew for sure. He could understand, considering he hated himself for it all. He was the reason why he was in the hospital, and he was even the reason why Jason had tried to kill himself, too.
His phone began ringing, as he was immediately confused. Who could be calling him? He didn't register the phone number, either, yet it was a verified one. Sighing, he grabbed his phone and answered it, "hello?"
"Is this Emil Harbroken?"
He showed no emotion, though he was rather shocked. "Yes, it is, why?"
"This is the prison calling your phone. I would like to confirm that your father that was placed in confinement around a week ago is confirmed dead from an illness. We had suggested he lasted around a week before it took over his body completely, but it seemed it took over ages ago."
"Oh." That's all he could even say. He wasn't shocked, nor did he really care. He did say that he deserved everything that was coming to him, which he truly meant. He sighed, rubbing his face. "I see, thank you for telling me about this information."
"You're very much welcome. Have a good day sir."
Emil heard the phone hang up as he stared at it for a few seconds before shoving it back into his pocket. "I didn't even ask them to tell me. Fucking hell..." He rolled his eyes, laying down onto the bed rather uncomfortably but didn't care to move. He embedded himself into his thoughts, shutting his eyes and burying his face into one of the closest pillows next to him from the bed.
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Hours had passed, and Emil awoke in the same bed. He realized that he must have fallen asleep, because it appeared dark from the outside. He rubbed his face harshly, leaving a red mark on both sides of his bridge nose. He sat up slowly, staring out the window. Now, all of the sudden, time seems to go extremely slow. He looked at his phone, seeing that the time was read as 1:34 in the morning.
"Goddamit..." He muttered to himself, laying back down once he shut his phone back off. Still no recent notifications from Jason specifically, but he was beginning to lose hope in that anyways.
All of the sudden, he heard a loud knock from his hotel door. He shot himself back up in a sitting position, turning his body to face the door. Clouded with confusion, he couldn't understand why anyone would come to his door at this time. It wasn't any of the staff of the hotel checking up on him... there's no way.
Reluctantly, he stood up, his legs now shaking. He walked over slowly up to the door, as he opened the door at the same speed. He flinched, opening the door fully.
"Huh... I found you."
"What are you doing here? In... in a hospital gown?!" He raised his voice, staring at him. "Did you run away?"
"Of course I ran away. They told me I would have to stay in the hospital for a week because of my head, thanks to you." There was bitterness filling in his voice. He then sighed, "I wasn't going to stay that long... so I had to see if I could find you. I went to every public place that I could manage to. Finally... I got somewhere when I asked the front desk if there was an 'Emil Harbroken' in the hotel, and got my answer when they told me the room number."
Emil couldn't even believe it. He was shocked to the point where he began shedding tears. He grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close, crying onto him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for doing this to you!"
He sighed, burying himself into his chest. "You don't need to apologize... I know you had your reasons. No worries..."
Emil shook his head quickly. "Jason... Jason I'm so sorry..."
"Shut your mouth, gay boy..." Jason mumbled, "can we go and sleep? I'm tired from trying to find your ass..."
He huffed, smiling a bit as he made Jason look at him by the chin, and kissed him. "Yeah, of course... God, I missed you so much..."
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End of Chapter Fifteen - Perspective
Switched from Jason's usual perspective to Emil's!! ^^ ANYWAYS YEAYYAYY THEYRE REUNITEDDDDDDDEnd Count (Words) - 1461 Words
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It Started on Friday
RomanceA story starting off with two enemies, only to be met with being forced to hang out with each other every day at noon for an hour, for five days. An enemies to lovers story, filled with drama, love, wholesomeness, and ever-loving heavenly sex. TW:...