The Tormentor and his Savior (Hero x Villain) (bxb) (short story) - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

ALASTOR MORNINGSTAR
"I didn't know where to go" Apollo whispers.
His body is badly bruised, some blood covers the side of his stomach and a black eye on his right eye. A split, bleeding lip with dried up blood from his nose. And much more injuries then I care to name.
My heart physically breaks.
"C-come in" I stutter. Too baffled by the site.
He limps inside, breaking my heart even more.
"Cmon" I wave him over to the dinning room. It's connected to the kitchen where the first aid kit is stored.
He freezes when he notices my family. "Oh... I didn't- I could- you don't have to-"
I roll my eyes and push him in a chair, instantly regretting it when he winces. "Shit, sorry"
"Language!" Mami scolds before standing up and walking over to us. Apollo holds his breath as she carefully checks him over. "Stop staring like a headless chicken and get the first aid."
I follow her orders, knowing I was gonna do it either way.
Apollo sits so freakishly still I'd wonder if he was even breathing if it wasn't for his foot lightly tapping on the wooden floor boards.
I return with the kit in hand, my eyes carefully analyzing his body language.
He looks stressed, and scared. Like he might get murdered in any minute. His wild eyes search around the room, probably looking for any booby traps of some sorts before they land on my concerned ones.
"Okay this is gonna sting but you need to hold still." Mami warns. But before the cotton even brushes his skin his whole body violently flinches away as he murmurs some pleads.
She looks at him wide eyed and concerned before sparing me a worried glance. "What's your name?"
"Apollo" his cheeks turn red in humiliation. I don't know what for.
"Do you trust my son?"
"I-..." he pauses not knowing what to answer.
Half of me prays to the gods he says yes so I can take care of him. So I can bring him closer to me and relieve some of his obvious pain. The other half is scared he'll say yes. What does that mean? That he trusts me? I've tried to kill him on multiple occasions, of course always half-assed, but still. How could he trust me? Why do I want him to trust me?
His eyes connect with mine, both hesitation and warmth present in them. Amidst those two, hidden away, behind the oceans of his pretty blue orbs, is blinding trust.
"Yes" I answer for him. Not only because I want that to be the truth, but because eyes never lie. As they say, eyes are the window to one's soul.
Even if it's a dark one with more secrets than the Devil himself.
He slowly nods in agreement.
A soft smile, kinder then any smile I've received from her, spreads on my mother's face. "The bathroom is down the corner to the right, you two will need the sink and some towels."
I give her temple a kiss before dragging Apollo with me to the bathroom, first aid kit in hand.
I motion for him to lean on the counter while I open the cabinet to take out some towels. I wet them next to him on the sink before carefully approaching him.
"Can I touch you?" I ask with a sly smirk for the potential meaning of my question.
He narrows his eyes on me, catching my hidden meaning but nods anyway.
I wipe the dried up blood, careful to not mess with his actual wounds. "Apollo..."
"I- I don't-..."
"That's fine, you don't have to say anything you don't want to." I murmur while wiping the blood from his nose.
Although I meant it when I said he doesn't have to tell me, curiosity builds in my mind. Apollo doesn't have many nemesis or enemies for that matter, not a lot of people hate him. And the few who do could never beat him up this badly. Trust me, I've seen them try while watching with a popcorn bucket in hand. It's actually very amusing. The only reason I do it is to learn his physical pattern. When he feels the need to punch, which arm would he use, how hard he would, etc... plus it's fun to watch. I took a certain pride in being the only one who's ever brought the Savior down to his knees. It happened once. But that day he had a broken arm. And if there are two things I hate; liars and unfair fights. They just make everything unreliable. And I need sources I can lean on. So I let him go, of course not without a few cuts and bruises.
Something tells me this had nothing to do with Savior though. Which concerns me more than it should.
"Alastor?" He breaks the peaceful silence.
"Mhm." I mumble, concentrating on cleaning up the blood on the side of his chest. His very bare muscular defined Greek-god firm delicious-
"How is your family so nice to you?"
I look back up at him in confusion. "My mom yelled at me and called me a headless chicken. I don't think that consist of being nice."
He sighs, as if annoyed I didn't give him the answer he wanted. "Maybe. But you and I both know she doesn't mean it."
"I'm not too sure about that. Last year on my birthday gift card she wrote; I'm still considering my true feelings for you. Proud of you Headless chicken."
He laughs. Savior- no. Apollo Chevalier laughed. Because of me. His laugh is just as angelic as his voice. So beautiful and mesmerizing I can't help but stare in awe.
"Alright but..." he sighs "do you know she loves you?"
"Yes." I answer without missing a beat. My mother would slay a dragon for any one of her children. That I will never have any doubts on.
"How?"
"What do you mean How?"
"How?" He repeats as if providing an explanation this time.
"Again, what do you mean How?"
A mixture of a groan and a sigh leaves his mouth. "How can you tell she loves you?"
I stand straighter, getting up from my crouching position to look him in the eyes, the humor evaporates from the room.
"How do you know your parents love you" I counter.
A beat of silence before his answer makes me want to cuddle him into oblivion.
"I don't"
Two words yet they feel like too shots to the skull.
Our rivalry, although alive and well, isn't really original. Our parents started as rivals, his mother a hero, my father a villain. Apparently it started out as a love story gone wrong. She was too toxic and possessive of him. My aunt had gotten sick with cancer and my dad had been spending more time with her than with his girlfriend, Apollo's mom. His mom didn't know who my aunt was, she just thought it was a bimbo, home wrecking bitch. So she kidnapped her from the hospital, made sure to hide her well. Extremely well. So well that my father turned over the whole city and half the country looking for her and still could not figure out her location, houses and buildings were burnt down from his wrath, screams could be heard throughout the nights, and finally a haunting quiet laugh that would only be heard by his next victims. If you heard the laugh you might as well already plan your funeral, cause there's no escaping him. My aunt was never found...alive. Her body was proudly displayed, hung with arms opened wide and bruises all over her with blood gushing from different wounds with a big sign saying 'Don't mess with me'. Naturally, fingers atomically started pointing at Dad, mami still gets sad when she thinks of how broken she had found him. She was one of his sister's nurses. The only one who wasn't afraid to approach him. Sure he wore a mask while being the villain of the public's stories, but even without it he looked just as intimidating.
There aren't many people who know the real story, my dad never had a chance to tell it, and with the amount of destruction he craved, he didn't look for one either.
Me and Apollo are enemies, by default. But one thing I was always sure of until now was that he had his parent's love. I mean if his mom is that possessive over a boyfriend, I could've imagined what she would be like with her son.
"What..." I say totally in disbelief
His eyes leave mine as he looks down in shame. A strong part of me hates it when he does that. For some odd reason I have to have his eyes on me whenever I'm near him. The deep oceans of his eyes are too pretty not to be drowning in. I forcefully grab his jaw and make sure we're making eye contact. "Will you stop doing that." I complain.
"I-"
"Stop looking down in shame as if you have a sick love story with my feet."
That causes a small chuckle to release from his lips.
"To answer your question. I know my mother loves me because she acts like my mom. She cares about me, worries about me when I'm sick, feeds me when im hungry, never let me go to sleep without telling me how much she loves me. She makes me feel wanted every time I'm near her because she does want me. She's grateful for me just like I am to her."
This time his eyes never leave mine as he listens intently for what I have to say, as if he's studying what to look for in a loving mother.