Immortal Ballad *ON HOLD*

2 Weeks Later...

*unedited*

Two Weeks Later...

Irial had returned from the funeral alone and angry. During the entire procession, Alecxa was either crying into the arms of Marckus or too emotional to talk to. Irial hadn’t had the chance to talk to her in over a week. He was beginning to feel rejected, if it wasn’t for Alecxa sleeping in his room. Even if it was just that, sleeping, he felt anxious for the day to end.

Once the funeral was over, Lorenzo’s body in the ground and goodbyes said, they headed home. His mother had been a nervous wreck, too occupied with the arrangements to cry. And now as the funeral ended and Alecxa headed home with Marckus instead of Irial, he began to feel angry.

The moment they entered their home, Irial headed to his room. Slamming the door in frustration, he threw himself on his bed and yelled as loud as he could into a pillow. Alecxa could probably hear him, if she hadn’t gone with Marckus instead. He was far from caring at this point. That man had taken everything from Irial in such a short time that it made his head spin.

First, the tall Englishman with the dashing good looks captured Alecxa’s attention and admiration. Not only that but Irial had to admit he felt enthralled himself when they first met. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Marckus that first day, even after Alecxa agreed to a date. His mind had been full of Marckus that night, his body reacting accordingly. But he had pushed those unholy thoughts away. Alecxa was his intended, not the tall longhaired God named Marckus.

Second, were there any assurances that Lorenzo hadn’t been murdered? His death had been determined to be of a collapsed lung. But no one had bothered to ask how his lung had collapsed. Irial was no Dottore but shouldn’t there be an injury or something to account for it? For all they knew, Marckus had killed him.

And finally, how was it that Marckus all of a sudden took control of all the family’s assets. He was now the proprietor of the family bank and home. Alecxa and his mother had no power over the bank, just the villa in Tuscany. Irial himself had a third of the bank, but somehow he had been cut off just weeks before Lorenzo’s death. Yes, he could see why he would’ve been cut off... he had practically raped Alecxa according to Lorenzo. But he thought it was all over, the fighting, when Alecxa had agreed to some accord.

Apperantly not...

He stood up from his bed on his elbows. Wiping his dark hair off his eyes, he pushed himself off and began removing his funeral clothes. He hadn’t used these clothes in years, not since his father’s death. During Alecxa’s mother’s death, he’d gone in white, her mother’s favorite color. Black was not a good color to wear especially in the weather they’d been having.

As he removed his shirt, he heared a knock on the door, rather than pretending he was in, the scream had given his away anyways, he continued to unbutton his shirt as he opened the door.

“What do you want?” He said harshly at his new guest.

“You seemed out of it,” the Englishman replied. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m alright,” Irial said retreating back into the room. He removed his shirt without shame and waited for Marckus to enter. When he didn’t, Irial motioned to the door. “Come in, if you want.”

“Grazie,” Marckus replied as he stepped in and closed the door behind him. Irial through his shirt onto a near by chair before turning to Marckus.

“What do you want?” he repeated. He hooked his thumbs on the waistline of his trousers that were now hanging well below his waist. He had no shame, he was conversing with a man not a impish girl like Alecxa. He wouldn’t blush at him standing there half naked waiting for his question to be answered.

“I-I merely wanted to have a civil conversation with you,” Marckus said his eyes trailing over Irial’s well toned body. “If you’d have one with me, that is.”

“Alright,” Irial replied smirking lightly. “Should I put on a shirt or is this fine?”

Marckus nodded, his eyes never leaving Irial’s body. If Irial didn’t know better, he’d swear Marckus eyes were black with lust. Marckus looked up suddenly, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“I’m an artist,” he told Irial. “I can appreciate a good work of art such as yourself.”

“I- um thank you.” Irial blushed. This is getting creepy, he thought turning to retrieve a shirt from his armoire. “Its cold in here...”

“Yes, I can see that it is.” Marckus eyed Irial’s pants before coughing. “Alecxa is very lucky to have you on her side.”

“Side? There are no sides,” Irial bottoming his shirt.

“Good,” Marckus said. “No that we are in agreement. Let me tell you how things are going to from now on.”