"Just love her... Love will always win."
Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong but rejoices in the...
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{a/n;early update, I know! But if I don't update now, then by tomorrow, all my brain cells will be dead from how much school is targeting them. sigh.enjoy!}
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THE SUN must have shone some of its pride down on Collins.
The amount of egotistical and proudful aura Collins inhabits must be impossible to dwell in just one body rent-free. It should be completely improbable for one human to carry all the arrogance and overconfidence that Collins carries inside his lean and muscular body.
That is what is going through Lawrence's mind as he listens to his brother speak. The insanity that spews from his mouth is enough to drive Lawrence crazy if he listens to it for just one more day. These days, Col does not seem to be creative enough to speak about anything else. It is always Hope this or Hope that. To be honest, it is mentally exhausting.
"Mark my words, Law," Collins starts again, "I'll make her fall for me once again," he says for the umpteenth time.
"How do you plan on doing that?" Lawrence asks curiously, and then goes on to add, "anyone can tell just how much she dislikes you."
"If you won't speak something useful, then don't speak at all." Col sends him a hard glare and Lawrence just shrugs in response as if to say I'm telling the truth.
Lawrence sips from his glass of milk, staring ahead at the swimming pool in front of him from where he is seated at the patio. One would think now that they are grown ups, their mother would be lenient with them concerning healthy eating but just not this particular mother. If anyone tries to protest the drinking of milk at least once everyday, then they will get an unending nutrition lecture and then get send off to read on the importance of milk. Lawrence would rather just take the milk. He gets enough lectures on business from his dad as it is.
Lawrence looks back at his brother, his look alike, his physical mirror and a spitting image of his. His face is structured the same way as Col's, angles, shapes, contours and all.
Only problem is that, Lawrence has always only been a shadow of his brother.
Lawrence sighs silently, now noticing the morbid smile that's on Col's face. He rubs his palms against each other in that way he does when he's thinking of trouble making and Lawrence already knows that he hates whatever absurdity that's going through his brother's head.
He remembers asking his brother what history he shared with the girl the first time he pointed her out and asked him to steer clear from her path. Col hadn't told him anything then, only to do as Col said. Then two weeks later, Col asked Lawrence to start dressing like him.
From a long time back, Lawrence had obeyed his brother in tying up his locs whenever they were out despite how much he loves it when they are released but when Col asked Lawrence to start dressing up like him, Lawrence just had to ask and this time, he insisted.
"We just have bad history, that's it." Col had said shortly. But Lawrence had insisted for a more comprehensive answer.
"Well, bad history and bad blood." Col had said again. But on Lawrence's further insistence, Col had said,"You are really nosy, you know that? Okay, I did something to her. Something bad. It was a spur of the moment and I wasn't myself. I want to make upto her, that's it."
Lawrence had thought about it for a moment, wondering what it was that Col had done but judging by the look on his face he knew that he wasn't supposed to ask.
"If you can't take that explanation, then it's your problem." Col had said, causing Lawrence to scoff.
"Well, has it crossed you mind that she might not want to see you, like at all?" Lawrence had asked Col who had only shrugged.
"I mean, she must want closure," Col had said, sounding as his usual arrogant self.
Sitting in that patio, under the blue sky, Lawrence could not help but wonder what had happened between Hope and Col. It sure was not good if the way Hope looked like she was practicing every bit of self control the first day Col approached her is any indication.
Why won't his brother just tell him? Has their relationship gotten to this? Lawrence doesn't know why, but over the last few days, with Col obsessing over Hope, it has felt to him like his brother is dissappearing, fading from his sight, together with their relationship.
It is not jealousy or insecurity, Lawrence knows it. It's just something else. Something different and even more scary.
But Lawrence cannot do anything about it. Even if their relationship ever slips through his fingers, what can he do to stop it? To hold it together?
"Where do I get in, in this sinister plan of yours?" Lawrence asks.
Col turns to him, his smile widening, "You, my friend, play the most important role?"
"What could that be?" Lawrence asks wearily.
"You will make Hope hate you in order for her to love me." Col says clapping his hands as if he just came up with the cleverest idea. Lawrence stares at him incredulously. "Don't you dare back out, you promised."
Lawrence sighs. It's true. He did promise although now he regrets it. He knew this wouldn't be good and yet, he still has not grown enough balls to stand up to his brother.
"She already hates me, after that stunt you forced me to pull ." Lawrence pinches the bridge of his nose, giving his brother a pointed look. His brother's smile only widens further, if at all that is possible.
"Great, we are making progress then!" Col stands, tapping Lawrence's shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a gift to mail."
His brother honestly cannot be serious. He cannot be thinking straight. A few days in and he wants to send Hope a gift?
This guy is nuts. Lawrence can't help but think.
Lawrence agrees that Hope is a sight to behold; what with all the dark skin glory. Dark is too lame a description for what her skin color is. In fact, it must be something that crosses the boundaries that are set in place to distinguish shades of color. Because it is a somewhat dark olive, a slightly light chocolate, a deep desert-soil pigment and a glowing dark hazel. Lawrence cannot quite put his finger on her complexion just yet.
And yet, that description barely does justice to her poetic countenance.
Yes, she is beautiful but his brother surely should not be that blinded that it causes him to disregard common sense.
He saw the way Hope reacted on seeing Col and now he cannot begin to imagine the anger that would boil inside her if she somehow received a delivery of roses from Col.
He releases a short lived chuckle at the mental image of the look of utter mortification and anger if she somehow found a bouquet of roses addressed to her from Collins.
She is fierce—or atleast she seems so—and maybe it is that knowledge that makes him smile, strangely finding solace in the fact that even if he is too down trodden to speak up to his brother, Hope is not.
At that instant, a small part of him hopes—maybe even prays —that Col will learn a lesson or two.
If not from him, then from Hope.
𓂺𓂺𓂺𓂺𓂺𓂺𓂺𓂺𓂺𓂺𓂺𓂺𓂺
«pls forgive any typos, I'm editing this in class. HaHaHaHa.
thank you for reading yet another chapter of LAW. I really appreciate it and I really love you. Toodles!»
