/əˈkwɪvə/

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If you don't fight for what you want,

don't cry for what you lose.

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N o t e

#PrayForParis and all other countries that have been attacked by any terrorist group. You are in my prayers.

Hope you all enjoy this chapter (It is very long btw LIKE I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF) and comment down your thoughts and don't forget to vote!

PS - Unedited because procrastination, I'll fix them in the morning hopefully. ^^

Enjoy xoxo

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"I must say though, you gave him a hell of a good punch - OW!" Aaron hissed as the alcohol came on the cup of his lip. "A little gentler Rose, me and my lip would appreciate it."

She just rolled her eyes; her lashes casting a shadow over her cranberry stained cheek. "Just shut up and let me clean you up."

With a scowl, Aaron kept his mouth closed as she dabbed away the blood with the stinging antiseptic; his eyes shut while he set his jaw.

And when she was done, he reopened his eyes before taking his own napkin soaked in alcohol. "Okay your turn," And with that, he started to stipple away the blood on the scratches lacerated on her arm.

She hissed too. "God Aaron be gentle!"

"Just shut up and let me clean you up," He mocked, a small grin etched on his lips. "It doesn't even make any sense on how you got these."

Rose winced this time. "Emette's nails were pretty long."

Aaron could feel his blood flow constrict. "That son of a -"

"Anyway," Rose interrupted; taking her own cotton ball seeped in the antiseptic. "Your turn,"

He flinched when he felt the acidic solute touch his cut cheek. "Gentle on this one Rose, or I swear -"

"I'm sorry," She whispered. "For getting you in this mess."

Aaron smiled lightly. "You said that last time too,"

She smiled gently as she dabbed away the blood off his cheek. "You remember?"

"You remember what I said?"

Her amber gaze softened; the smile on her lips accentuating the random swirls of copper in her eyes. "You said that you got yourself involved in this."

He smiled. "And it didn't change since then," He looked at her keenly; his eyes of oceans and seas drinking in her orbs of wood and caramel. "And I think you lied to me."

She glanced at him, clearing her throat. "About what?"

"The blood on your cheek is yours," Aaron said. "You are hurt."

She looked panicked; almost guilty. "Aaron -"

"You're hurt Rose, and quite frankly, it looks worse than all of my wounds."

"Have you seen your cheek?" Rose gasped. "And not to mention the blisters by your eyes and the scratches on your forehead and special shout out to the swelling of your jaw." She said firmly, fire already igniting in her eyes. "My cheek is nothing compared to you."

"Don't say that," Aaron said, wincing when he tried to clench his jaw. "It's you before me; you first then me; you always -that's how it works. I can take a few blows on my face and I can handle blisters by my eyes and swelling on my jaw, but what I can't handle -" He took in a breath, trying to find words. "-I can't handle it when you're hurt -when someone or something has the audacity to wound you physically or emotionally." His fingers came up to gently caress the bruise on her cheek. "Okay?"

She leaned into his touch, letting out a quiet sigh. "I'm fine Aaron, I really am." She said. "It's just a little scratch anyway,"

"So is that a sign for me to go beat the crap out of Emette again?"

Rose grinned. "As tempting as it sounds, I don't want to get in between another fist fight."

"Mortal combat Rose -fist fight sounds so filthy."

"And you tell me not to call you adorable."

"Rose,"

"Back to cleaning you up."

They then patched each other up; winces and muffled groans decorating the clinic as well as Aaron's sarcastic comments -Gee Rose, you should really become a doctor. I'm sure the public would appreciate your gruesome care -OW! - and her constant hisses -Aaron I swear this is skin and not sandpaper.

He patched up her wounds, but he didn't know whether he could mediate the bruise he caused on her heart.

If only he knew.

He couldn't tell her.

Aaron couldn't tell Rose that her laugh was the epitome of pure delirium and insane ecstasy.

That her giggles drove Aaron absolutely insane; that her rambles were the things he hoped for -silently wishing that she'd blabber on about absolutely anything whenever she'd open her mouth.

He couldn't tell her that every single thing about her was the essence of divine.

He couldn't tell her that she was absolutely stunning. Because if he did, he was scared she would see how not so stunning he was. And then she'd leave.

And Aaron wouldn't blame her one bit.

He didn't even pack a proper bag.

It was just his frantic shoving of clothes into the nearest bag he had; the shaky hands and wobbling legs -Please please please- along with his eyes delirious with uncontrollable hysteria -God please James James James- with his heart to pair.

He didn't even leave a note for Luke.

He remembered he didn't even kiss Rose goodbye.

He regretted not kissing her goodbye.

It didn't even matter if his parents were in the house.

And he was already banging his trembling fist against the door; breathless gasps slipping past his lips as he tried tried tried to control his tears.

George opened the door; his grey eyes sunken with this glint of helplessness and that was the last straw.

"Where is he?" Aaron croaked, quickly entering as his heart pumped like a complete beast in his chest.

George smiled sadly. "He's in your room." No, no, no.

He always asked himself how he got so lucky.

It could be at any random spur of the day; let it be while he was chewing his soggy cereal or walking to class, it would just hit him on how lucky he was.

It wasn't even about the how's or the why's the hammered his chest; it was also the how come's and it doesn't make any sense's repeating themselves at the back of his head while he walked back home or was on his way to work.

Now Aaron wasn't one to be called a romantic, but when it came to Rose, he always thought it was fate.

Because how could he from a billion other people be at the right place at the right time right at her angle of vision? How could he from the million smokers on Earth be the lucky one to catch Rose's eye without even trying?

The more Aaron thought about it, the more nothing seemed to make sense. The more Aaron thought about it, the more he just wanted to run to Rose and get on his knees and thank her.

On top of being lucky enough to grab Rose's attention at the park, she was at his new school too.

It was all the work of destiny.

Because it just didn't make any sense -It doesn't make any sense it doesn't make any sense it doesn't make any sense- on how a guy like Aaron could even hold Rose, let alone have her.

It must've been the lining of the cosmos or the momentum of the Earth or the pull of gravitational energy, because Aaron knew that if Rose was really paying attention, she wouldn't even give him a second glance.

"You're here," James beamed. "Is it Christmas?"

Aaron's fingers were still trembling. "God James -"

"It's not as bad as it looks," James frowned. "Can you calm down for a second?"

"Calm down? I got a freaking phone call at 3 in the afternoon telling me that you fainted and were reported into the fucking hospital and that you almost died, and you want me to calm down?"

James pursed his lips, his pine eyes weighing down with guilt. "I'm sorry alright? I didn't mean to alarm you like that."

Aaron sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "James you -you know how I get when these things happen," Aaron said quietly. "I came here as fast as I could."

James bit the inside of his cheek; his sunlight hair collecting sweat at his temples. "They said it was just some whacky thing my body decided to do," He shrugged. "I couldn't understand half the things the doctor was saying."

A ghost of a smile lingered over Aaron's lips. "I'm not surprised."

"It was something over the lines of over si-simmultration?"

Aaron grinned this time. "Over stimulation?"

"Yes!" James said. "And umm, something about my automatic nervous system?"

Aaron couldn't help but chuckle. "Autonomic nervous system," He corrected with a smile. He let out a heavy breath. "You were over-stressed James, how could you even think of doing something like that?"

James shrugged as he snuggled deeper into his blankets. "Beats me, I was just doing some homework."

"At what time?"

James grinned playfully. "3 in the morning."

"And you're asking me how this happened," Aaron muttered, shaking his head. "You know your bedtime is at 10 -maximum 11."

James gave Aaron a sheepish smile. "I thought we agreed that I never listen to what I'm told."

"Jesus," Aaron muttered. "You're going to be the death of me."

James beamed. "What a lovely way to die."

"Oh for fuck's sake."

James smiled so brightly that Aaron could feel the tension lessen in his chest. "Mom and Dad asked about you though,"

He could feel his fists clench. "Did they?"

"Yup," James chirped. "I think they would've actually let you in if you came."

Aaron sighed. "James you can't just say stuff like that -"

"And I'm not," James piped in. "They told me they would."

James never knew what perfect liars they were.

Aaron solemnly nodded his head. "You had supper?"

James nodded. "Soup and chicken."

Aaron approved. "Good, now get some sleep kid."

Then James perked up from his duvets and linens, the worry already tickling his mint eyes. "Y-you're leaving?"

Aaron shook his head, smiling. "No."

"I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure I'm not dead?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, James -"

It was a given that when Aaron was younger, he would envision the kind of man he would grow up to be.

Tall and buff; sharp and witty; wise and gentle. He would stand with pride embroidered into his shoulders and would walk with authority in his steps.

He would have steel and reason laced in his voice, and he would have knowledge on his tongue and the reflection of gratitude lingering in his eyes.

Now, it all seemed like a joke.

He didn't even grow up with muscle; no matter how much his Father made him go to the gym, he'd always come back with the same bony shoulders and flat stomach with his sweat stained shirt.

And it was also because of how Aaron had so much hope and enthusiasm for his future that it screwed everything up. He thought his future was something he could imagine in his head, scribbling down to the tiniest detail.

But he was so, so wrong.

Now there was nothing to be proud of; nothing that Aaron could carry on his shoulders in pride. Nothing that Aaron could proudly glance at on his chest; nothing he could smile gently at every time.

Nothing.

Maybe it was everything his parents said he was, or he might have been absolutely ridiculous while he was placing all his decisions, but he did it all for James.

Every single sleepless night and starving day was all for him. Every possession that Aaron could never have, and every mean remark anyone has spat on him, it was all for James.

All for the boy that even had a little bit of Aaron in him; the boy whose basil eyes made Aaron's blue one glimmer with sincerity.

The boy who also had to go through a lot.

Dimitre Tadashi was Aaron's first friend.

They met on a Sunday morning; Aaron tightly clutching onto his Mother's forearm as he muttered about how he didn't want to go to the park and play on the swings. He was wearing a freaking tuxedo, and by that only, Aaron knew he would be playing by himself while his Mother chit chatted with some of the rich ladies in their area.

And he did play by himself -that is for the first half an hour.

"Hello," This Asian kid smiled; the crinkles of his eyes accentuating the folds of his lids. "I'm Dimitre."

And Aaron was baffled least to say -there he was, a silly kid playing in the sand with a freaking tuxedo and then this Asian kid pops out of nowhere and talk as though he didn't realize how remotely insane the situation.

"Umm -I'm Aaron," He replied shakily, his lips pursed into a tight line. "Are you from here?"

"Yeah I am," Dimitre beamed. "I actually live right next to you."

"You sound like a stalker -I should probably get going -"

"No," Dimitre laughed, his chuckles making a twinge of a smile settle on Aaron's lips. "Look, my Mom's talking with your Mom."

And he was right, for when Aaron saw his Mother talking with a rather adorable Asian woman, he just gave a quizzical look to Dimitre. "What's your point?"

"I came here and left my toys back home to meet your Mom and you're asking me what's my point?"

Aaron grinned now; slightly impressed by how straight forward yet gentle Dimitre was. And Dimitre smiled too, giving Aaron's shoulder a small shove.

"I didn't want to come," Aaron mumbled grimly.

"Me neither," Dimitre agreed, shrugging. "I just got this sick Xbox and I didn't even get a chance to play with it."

Aaron let out a sigh. "My parents just got me new books and I only saw the covers."

Dimitre barked out a laugh. "You nerd. Well you know us Asians, we're really keen on tech." Dimitre bumped his shoulder with Aaron's. "But if you want, you can always come to my place and we can play together."

Aaron smiled. "Yeah sure, just after our Moms finish."

Dimitre's black hair made such a contrast against the sunny day. "Sweet," He smiled. "I'll see you there."

Aaron shrugged. "Don't push your luck -for all you know my Mom might just say no."

But you see, that was exactly the problem.

His Mother didn't say no, and neither did Dimitre's Mother object to the idea either.

Because it was all planned -it was all pieces of paper that needed to be duct taped together and everyone had a script that they needed to follow and rules they needed to obey and words they needed to listen to-

and lies they needed to hide.

The funeral was probably a scene that was out of script.

Except it was all too real; there was no director to yell out Cut! or crew members to clean up the scene of fog and clipped paint. There was no one to pinch Aaron out of the miserable reality he was in.

Because it was real.

Because Aaron was dressed in a black tuxedo; standing under the rain as his eyes glued themselves onto the coffin that his friend was sleeping in. It was all pain stricken eyes -He's just sleeping sweetheart, but he will wake up don't worry. You just won't see him again- and disbelief in frown lines and wrinkles -I promise Dimitre will come back honey, just please don't cry - and it was all lies lies lies.

Aaron was just staring so blankly at the coffin of Earth and gold that he didn't even notice the tears that rolled down his cheeks; didn't feel the sobs that were burning his throat.

He didn't realize that everyone else was also crying; murmurs of requiem strolling all around -He was just so sick, he saw it coming -and whispers of grief -I am so sorry for your loss Diana and Arthur, it's a terrible tragedy.

And it was a tragedy.

It was tragedy that Dimitre only lived to be 9; it was a tragedy that his smiles were something Aaron could only remember through the sunlight and that his laughs were now rustles in the wind before the leaves shed to the ground.

It was a tragedy that Aaron lost a friend.

And if Aaron was paying a little more attention; if he averted his blank gaze from where his friend was sleeping to his parents, he would have found the answer in their emotionless façades and numb shoulders.

He would've found the answers in their lying tongues.

Love was always so pointless to Aaron.

He thought it was a conspiracy that humans made up to feel less lonely; a little rumor that spread like wild fire that you can feel actual butterflies and that freaking sparks crawl up your arm.

It was all fairytale stories told to kids before they drifted to sleep; all just a bunch of half sober jokes that rattled through the night and was soon forgotten the next morning.

It was all a lie.

And for a while, Aaron believed it was true. That star struck eyes and gentle lips were just an imagery writers created for the fun of messing with people's hearts; that kisses on cheeks and entwined fingers were just an exaggeration to elevate people's hopes.

But that was before Rose.

Before he was submerging himself in love he never knew he had.

At first, he believed them.

He trusted their words -He was in a car accident Aaron, sitting in the front seat. He died instantly - and believed in their actions -He wouldn't want you to be depressed sweetheart, trust us - believed in them.

But then, he found out.

When he was sending his condolences for the third time around to Dimitre's parents; white roses in his small hands while he smoothed out his tuxedo and rang the door bell.

He felt he grieved with them, because Dimitre was more of a brother to Aaron than he was a friend. He was the boy whom Aaron could let out his rather girlish giggles in front of and won't feel insecure; the boy whom Aaron would skip homework for just another round of tennis on his Wii.

Dimitre was Aaron's life line.

They spent countless hours together studying; spent infinite seconds either playing together or just reading. They became one another, and often times, people would think they were related even though Dimitre was Asian and Aaron was British.

But he found out the truth that night -Aaron, sweetie, Dimitre died because he was very sick - he found out the lies stitched onto his parent's tongues and the con balled at the back of their throats.

They said it was a disease that couldn't stop itself in Dimitre's body; a virus that could only multiple in him and they couldn't do anything to slow it down. That it was an infection that didn't want to die; a sick fate that Dimitre was circled into.

They said it was cancer.

That his own body went ballistic and started becoming something completely different; that it was only a matter of time before he died.