Slave's Love (Pirate!Spamano)

Capítulo 37 (treinta y siete)

Feliciano

Despised but also admired; such were guns. Although I've held a gun, despite it being only once, it had greater weight in my imagination than it had in reality. In reality, it was just a mere object made of steel and filled with gunpowder, the meaning and purpose it held though was far from just mere nothing. It's just a word, honestly, but the mention of it brings visions of lives being taken away.

People then send prayers to those who lost their lives but in a couple of days shots are fired again and a few more die. It takes a lot for humanity to change, doesn't it? And usually, it only changes when it reaches the peak of mistakes, bad decisions and worst case scenario, realizing that, oops, it messed up.

But why is it that people are so stubborn, despite knowing it's bad in most cases? Perhaps because of hope but really, the only one to decide what will happen next is God and no-one else. He's the only one who can give but also take away lives, so how dare humans do that?

I turned away from the window. The sound of blade swishing around filled my ears and my eyes narrowed, staring at my so-called brother. He looked like me just older; life must've been unkind to him. Because of his thin frame, he looked weak but just his presence somehow made me shrink. His shoulders were wider than mine and all in all, he looked manlier. I could hear a soft hiss of envy inside my head but I quickly shooed the sly snake away and watched the young man in front of me.

He stopped to look at me, flame of energy in his honey-coloured eyes, and drops of sweat sparkling on his forehead, neck and chest. Well, only the visible part of his chest for he had only unbuttoned two or three buttons of his shirt. He ran the back of his hand across his forehead, whipping away the sweat as his breath came out in short, hot puffs.

"What the fuck are you staring at me for?"

Ah, his vocabulary was something I wouldn't get used to.

"I just wondered, why do you have gloves on?" My eyes snapped towards the said part of clothing before looking at his face again. "So my hand doesn't smell like that damn metal and plus, the handle doesn't slip so it makes me feel more reassured whenever I use my sword," he said as he stalked towards one of the room corners, leaving his weapon there before taking off the black, leathered gloves.

Honestly speaking, he looked rather impressive like that. A boy's dream so he could charm girls. But I wasn't a child anymore and I didn't feel the need to impress people around me. Yet, I believe, that if his language wasn't so vulgar and his face expressions were softer, he'd have been able to have any girl he ever wanted.

"Quit staring at me; it's fucking creepy." I scoffed through my nose and waltzed towards the canvas. Yes, that's right; I let him practice swordplay in my art room. There wasn't any other place for him to do that anyway. He said that, if he stays here until spring, he'll be able to practice outside.

The question of where he got that sword awoke curiosity in me. It wasn't a regular sword, nor was it the sword of nobles'. It looked like he was a bit too familiar with fencing and the blade seemed like it experienced this or that. And the fact "he just knew" I existed and that this random guy named Antonio brought him here, knowing where Roderich lived was even more suspicious. I just couldn't put a finger on it.

The canvas was unused and clean – the only thing that has changed ever since I left to get some education. It was in the shape of a rectangle, the longer sides ran down where it was shorter just like the side facing upwards. I had other canvases, too. Some of them were like this – vertical – some smaller and some bigger. Though I also had horizontal canvases and the sizes were different as well, I hardly ever used the bigger ones – never really had the courage.