Shots Fired

Why didn't you tell me?

"Ah- Ah- Ah- Ow!"
A hit on the head.
"Be gentler, you knucklehead!"
A sheepish grin.
"Sorry Isabella."
Shuffling.
"Better?"
A nod.
"Yes."

An exhausted young boy, asleep.
A girl filled with guilt, kept awake by her thoughts.
He was so young.
She shouldn't have agreed to this.
But she didn't regret it, as wrong as it seemed to be.
She loved him, afterall.
With her whole heart.

"Do you really have to go?"
Tears.
A small nod.
"I'm sorry Alfred. I wish I could stay."
A hug, a last kiss,way too short, but they had to hurry.
If their parents would get wind of their relationship, it would be hell.
"Promise me you'll write."
A whisper.
"I promise."

Three years later, Alfred entered a strip club with a few friends. They were celebrating Gilbert's birthday, who had also been ogling a certain brunette dancer for a while and used his birthday as an excuse to come here. Alfred got bored fairly quick, he wasn't allowed to drink yet, afterall he was still 19. Sure, he did drink now and then in secret, but he wouldn't get any booze here. So he was just sitting there, sipping his coke and watching Gilbert flirt with the brunette stripper. He let his gaze wander until it got caught by a perticular dancer. She was further in the back, but she was gorgeous. Her green eyes shimmered like gems, her flushed face looked cute in the half dark, it reminded him of Isabella, if it weren't for her black bob cut. The song ended, she stopped dancing, huffed and got off the stage. Their eyes met. She froze. He gaped. He knew these eyebrows. "Isabella?"

Isabella had changed and now sat next to him like he always had known her. Creamy skin, golden hair, fuzzy brows, green gems as eyes. "So," he cleared his throat, "what brings you to a job like this?" She shifted nervously, her eyes darting around in the room, looking everywhere but at him. "I need the money." Her voice was small. "Money?" Alfred raised an eyebrow. "What for?" Isabella looked really uncomfortable by now and seemed relieved when someone called her backstage. "Sorry." She apologized. "I have to go."
"Hitting on Isa, are ya?" Alfred attention was caught by the bartender. "No chance boy. She already has a kid at home and refused every guy here." Alfred's eyes widened. "A child?" He leaned forwards, to better understand the man over the loud music. "Yeah. Three years old. Cute lil' bastard." The man grinned. "Dunno 'bout the father, some say she got knocked up during a party, some say she's married, others say it was adopted. But it's gotta be hers, same eyes, same eyes." But Alfred already wasn't listening anymore. Isabella? Married? To whom?

The next day, he already waited for her to arrive. She looked surprised and also a bit scared when she spotted him. "Congratulations." He said as calmly as possible. "Who's the lucky guy?" She tilted her head, confused, and openend her mouth to say something, but he cut her off. "Is it Francis?" He stepped closer. "Maybe Kiku? Antonio?" She shook her head frantically. "What the heck would I want from one of them?" She snapped. "I heard you married and I'm quite interested to whom. Was it when you went back to England again? Did you meet someone nice and married him off the hat? Have a child with him? Or did you have someone all along and were just fooling around with me? Huh?" Alfred's voice stayed calm, but he was screaming inside. Isabella choked. "What?" She managed to get out. "Alfred, I loved you. I still do. Even if we are devided by age, that doesn't mean I was fooling around." Alfred balled his fists, nails digging into his skin. "Then why didn't you write? You promised! How come you have a child? If you were so happy in England with your boyfriend or husband, why did you come here again?" A look of shock was painted across Isabella's face. Hurt. Betrayal. Alfred barely noticed in his rage. "Is this really what you think of me? That I'd just forget you and get someone else? That I'd just sleep with someone right after I met them?" Alfred froze. No. He didn't think of her like that. But... "But whose child is it?" The anger vanished from Isabella's face and she stared at the floor. "It's... no one's." Alfred was confused. "You adopted it?" She shook her head. "Then whose is it." She gulped, then she raised her head and looked straight into his eyes. "It's yours." Alfred blinked. "What?"
"It's yours." She repeated stoically. "But- we- just once- and-"
"I know." She interrupted him. "I know." She gently took his arm and led him inside, backstage, to her changing room. "Let's talk about this where it's calmer."

It was a passionate love. Isabella was an exchange student for a year at a college nearby Alfred's house, so she was living with him and his parents during her stay. They fell in love. Four years lying between them. She was 20. He was 16. They went out for the time she was there. Their parents wouldn't have approved of it, pried them apart, so they didn't tell anyone. The week before she had to leave, they had sex.
Just once.
Before she would leave.
Of course they were excited.
Both of them were virgins.
So inexperienced. So naive. So hasty. So forgetful.
Of course they forgot the condom. Neither of them noticed. Only Isabella did, a month later, when she began wondering why she didn't get her period.
So she bought a test. It was positive. Another one. Again. And a third one. All positive. It was obvious. She carried a life within her.

Alfred gulped and leaned back in his chair. "That's quite a lot to process." He admitted after Isabella finished her story. She just nodded, eyes to the floor again. "But why didn't you tell me?" He asked. She sighed. "I was scared, Alfred. What would you say? What would your parents say? Could you continue your life like you used to? I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want to ruin your life. So I cut off the contact. To everyone. Even you. I told no one. I managed, somehow." Alfred furrowed his brows in worry. That's not how it should have went. She should have told him. He didn't care whether he would have had to stop school or whether he would have had to move to England. He just wanted to be with Isabella. The one he loved. "Isabella." A soft whisper. She rose her head. "Can we go to your house? I want to see our child." Her eyes widened in surprised, tears welled up. "Why would you- after all I've done-" He just shook his head. "You did what you thought was right. But I don't care whether it ruins my life or not. Can't I just be with you?" She wiped her tears away. "You can." She looked up and smiled. "You can." She repeated softly.