28 27. Deepika

"I loved her eyes," Augustus was telling me, smiling dreamily as we both sat on a bench in the park, watching the sunrise. "They were like gravity. No. Stronger than that. Hell, black bloody holes. They captivated my soul, mate."

I nodded speechlessly with a heart quench at his accurate description. I knew what he was talking about. I knew that feeling. I looked away at the empty playgrounds where birds settled and chirped.

Augustus sighed heavily and continued. "And her hands were so tiny. I would've loved to engulf them and warm them in mine but she wouldn't ever let me touch her. Never let me close. Silly, stubborn Sam."

I turned to him with a small smile, remembering something I thought he should know. "Remember the day she insulted you?"

Augustus nodded quietly, pursing his lips and brushing them with his fingers as he shut his eyes in pain.

"That was the day she admitted her infatuation about you. I literally had to force her to apologize-" I smirked at the memory, surprised at the wave of nostalgia that overcame my senses.

"When you called me-" He said suddenly and laughed hard. "Yes, I remember. God, she had some funny ways-"

I smiled sadly at him.

"Oh God, such a heartbreak." He muttered thickly, dropping his head and doubling over on the bench.

I rested a hand on his shoulder. "It's healthy to get heartbroken at times," I told him then cleared my throat. It was entertaining being (or acting?) an older brother, yet awfully new and difficult. "Makes you appreciate who and what you've got left. Not take them for granted," I continued slowly.

"But it hurts like a bitch." He groaned (he wasn't crying or at least I hoped so), holding onto the bench's seat.

"It does."

He puffed out some air then looked up with a 'not-so-serious', contorted face. "Can I have a cigarette?" He asked me and I simply stared at him. Wow, I was even reluctant about this. "Oh no. No, no-no. Come on! Not cause you're my older brother now you won't allow me one. Oh no, wait-" he paused to examine me. "-you're scared for me? You care about me lil' Julius?"

I didn't reply and busied my eyes with the beauty of the mauve sky.

"You are!" He exclaimed and I sighed, looking down at his irritable, cheesy grin. "Bloody hell!" He then laughed and I dared smile. A little.

"Absolutely not."

"Then, prove it and give me one!" He challenged, cocking an eyebrow and leaning his upper body toward me. When I continued frowning at him speechlessly, he wriggled his eyebrows teasingly and I had to shove him away.

"Dickhead," I muttered under my breath and he laughed more.

"I finally got the ′feeling′ part of you out! Woohoo!" He hooted and I sighed. "Bloody Julius Caesar! Wait-" He then stopped to laugh out of nowhere. "Wh-Why the hell are you named after a Roman emperor?"

He laughed harder and I sighed again.

"I happen to have no answer to that," I replied. "It's not like I could choose my name."

He then stopped laughing and looked at me. "It's okay, I'll call you Julio. I understand how it feels to have a shitty name. Father seems to have a thing for ridiculous names."

I almost flinched at my nickname and his mentioning of Father. "Call me Julius Cae-"

"It's over, mate. Once a nickname is out, it sticks." He laughed again punching the air. I smiled at him.

"You know something, bro?" he said and I looked at him sighing yet again (we could start counting already the number of times I did that). He just wouldn't shut up.

"No, I don't know 'something'."

"I'll tell you-" He said, fidgeting with his ring that I decided to ignore to free myself of the bitterness that'd follow. "It's good to have you back."

I nodded silently at him and smiled. "Same," I then added awkwardly with a neck cock.

"No, really, mate, you don't get it. It's like really good because I know I have someone to talk to about almost anything. Someone who's got my back, you know? It would've been awesome if I got to know you earlier, you know?" He rambled on and I smiled.

"Sure, Gustus, I'm there whenever, but I've got a pressing question-" I started and he raised his eyebrows.

"Shoot, brother. Ah, I love how the word 'brother' rolls on my tongue," he said excitedly and I had to stop myself from cringing.

"Are you always that...emotional?" I blurted.

"What do you mean?" His lips parted and I chuckled.

"I mean-" I then stopped and stifled a laugh, changing my mind. I liked him like that. "You know what? Never mind."

"No! What were you going to say? You can't do that!"

I chuckled and he raised his brows. "I meant to say, are you always that emotional? As in do you-"

"I get you." He interrupted me. "But wasn't it you who told me 'appreciate what I have and never take it for granted'-" He thickened his voice to mock me. "And now, in the middle of appreciating your ungrateful, dramatic arse, you ask me that insensitive question? Seriously, brother?"

I chuckled but he looked serious.

"I am an emotional person. I don't know why." He shrugged with a sigh. "And I guess that's my problem. My feelings always guide me. Like it guided me to you even though I knew you could kill me or harm me or something. Especially after Dad's revelations. But, I never really regret it, you know?" He was saying while I watched a black cat jump up to a slide. "I guess that's also why Dad wouldn't let me work with him. Like you do!"

At that, my neck snapped in his direction. I stared at him but didn't say anything. If he only knew what it took to do my job.

"I can tell you hate it." He stated carefully and I looked away, furrowing my eyebrows at the bright sun rays that started emerging. "But I'd do anything to switch places." He continued. "Be a tough, feared person. That's so cool. I almost envy-"

I snapped.

"You shouldn't," I cut him off. "There's nothing to envy me for. I'd do anything to live a normal life. To gain forgiveness from those I knew I hurt for some cash or documents," I said, thinking of Samara. Thinking of the guilt that would drown me until I swallowed it all down by a drink or two.

"Do you think I like it that people fear me? Do think I like it that I have to sleep with a hand on my gun under my pillow? Do think it's good to live when you can't trust anyone, including your own self and judgments? Going for a simple walk weighs down on me. I don't know who could be targeting a sniper at my back. I don't feel safe in my own damned skin.

"Do you think I like lying to all my friends, everyone, about my real identity? Who I really am, just because I don't want to scare them away? Because in reality," I paused, feeling the anger pulse against my forehead and throb in my ears. "-in my reality, Augustus, I can't stand myself! What I've been destined to become. I can't stand it when I remember killing a person my father's age or threatening women with their children.

"Because of guilt. Because despite all the heartless acts I've undergone, I can't really be heartless. And I haven't felt so filthy, so damn filthy until I lost my girlfriend and baby. I felt the pain I was inflicting on others with the apathy that imprinted itself on my soul. My guilt soared exponentially. Augustus," I paused to shake my head and clench my fists. "I can't stand looking in the mirror. I can't stand-" I stopped again to squeeze shut my eyes. "I can't stand the reflection of that guilty motherfucker, staring back into my eyes. It disgusts me and I can't run away from it. One can't run away from themselves, Augustus. Want to envy me for that?"

I fixed him with a sharp glare. His lips were parted, in the name of shock.

"I didn't-"

"And you shouldn't know!" I breathed out. "You wouldn't want to know, Augustus! Father's greatest gift to you is that he placed a barrier between you and his shit! You should be grateful for that," I almost shouted at him but then remembered that he was young and probably driven by appearances and what sounded 'cool'.

"I'm sorry." He muttered and looked down. "I was just...curious-"

"I could tell," I snapped, closing my eyes and rubbing them wearily. "And by the way-" I said, remembering a point in his conversation that particularly provoked me. "I would never, ever harm you. Actually, I'm scared that you'd be the one to do that."

At that, he looked up and raised his eyebrows slightly. "How so?"

"I don't know if I should trust you because I don't know where your loyalty lies. I don't know if Father tells you to shoot me in the head, whether you'd do it to please him or protect me. But I can't help trusting you-" I tried to say but he interrupted me with a snort.

"Julio. Mate-" He frowned and smiled at the same time. "-if Dad asks me to do such thing, I think I'll faint or get an aneurysm or something. No thinking in there."

"That's not what I meant-"

"I know what you meant, Julius. I know. And I don't blame you for thinking that way. And we've got a lot of days ahead of us in which I can answer that question of yours." He smiled and I shook my head.

"Yeah."

He then leaned back in the bench and started singing loudly to the empty sky and park, and kept provoking me until I chuckled and joined him.

Yes, I'd lost my goddamned mind.

...

The loneliness I felt when Augustus left was ironic. I was a hundred times more alert with him, scared it might be a trap for something wrong I did that I didn't know of.

Hanging out with Augustus was wrong. Having accepted him as a brother and showing him my soft side was wrong. But I couldn't deny how much I needed him. I needed a constant somebody I could hold on to. A brother.

It was eight in the morning and Augustus had been gone for two hours, and I was sitting on my bed, staring blankly at the TV screen. Feeling dizzy and absolutely sleep-deprived, I sank in the bed leaving the TV on.

It wasn't for a few minutes that I closed my eyes when my phone rang. I groaned and reached for it on the bedside table, glaring at the bright screen.

It was Samara.

I immediately sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes before answering her call.

"Samara?" I started, hearing some shuffling before a disembodied voice blared from my phone's speaker.

"This is Julius, right?" A familiar voice said and my head turned.

Amanda.

I shut my eyes tiredly and replied. "Yes. Mrs Amanda, of course. How have you been-"

"We aren't going to be friends over the bloody phone so get to the point." She snapped sharply and I winced, surprised.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about-"

"I bet you do."

I sighed. "I would really appreciate it if you were more specific, please."

"What the hell did you do to her?" She yelled and I raised my eyebrows, my heart pounding hard in my chest. Could've something happened to Samara? Could she have hurt herself?

"I did no-" I was on the verge of panicking when she cut me off.

"About a few days ago she was all grumpy and wanting to kill herself, and all of a sudden, she finds out she can be hopeful and wants to perform eye surgery to get better-" She ranted and I lowered the phone, staring at it dumbfounded.

Was I hearing right?

I returned the phone to my ears and frowned. "And may I ask what's wrong with that?"

She faltered a bit, which I found strange, then replied. "She's permanently blind."

I narrowed my eyes. She was lying. I could catch a liar from his voice. I was very experienced at that. But let me play her game.

"Oh really?" I asked, trying to sound dismayed. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Now you do. Stay away from her, Hitler bitch-"

"Julius, if you may," I said, gritting my teeth.

"They all are psychotic historic characters, anyway." She scoffed and I frowned.

What the hell was wrong with that woman?

"Can I have Samara on the phone please?" I asked, making sure I evened my voice.

"Yes you can, but you may not." She then hung up and I clenched my jaws in anger.

If she only knew how much danger she was putting Samara in.

I got out of bed and paced around the room, thinking of my next move. That was definitely not what I'd expected. I thought Amanda would be supportive or I wouldn't have told Samara to tell her at all.

That woman gave me goosebumps.

Oh well, Amanda, if you don't want Samara to see me, which I bet is the reason why she hasn't shown up at the park ever since I told her, I'll go to her- I thought with determination.

I started getting dressed.

Alexander's POV.

Anger was flames that licked my soul and body. I flung open the door that led to Augustus' room to find him sleeping, covered in green, satin covers, his head on a high pillow with a golden, satin cover. His face was obscured by his hair and another identical pillow that he pressed over his eyes. His big bed centred his huge room, which had a big balcony on the further end, through which the sun rays streamed in, a big desk in the opposite end, and a walk-in closet, whose door was wide open.

"Augustus!" I bellowed solidly but there was no movement. I frowned and walked angrily to his bed. I removed the pillow he pressed over his head, letting the sun rays fall over his face.

He groaned, waved a hand in front of his face, and then mumbled in a deep, low voice, "Later, let me sleep." He turned, exposing his bareback as he planted his face in his other pillow.

I clenched my jaws. "Get. Up. Now."

Augustus groaned before he slowly turned back and finally sat up, grimacing at the sun and rubbing his eyes.

"Yes? What could be so important-" He said, yawning. "-that couldn't wait until I woke up?"

"Whose is this?" I snapped sternly, throwing at him the jade-green scarf I found tossed on the living room's couch this morning.

I watched his face as he clutched the scarf and stared down at it. He then looked up at me and grinned foolishly.

"Don't lie and tell me it's yours because I know you detest this shade of green," I stated angrily.

Unlike the other one, who loved this colour, for it's the colour of his and his mother's eyes.

"That's right, Dad, I dislike this shade of green, but Deepika doesn't," he pressed with a sly grin.

"Who's Deepika?"

"Ever wondered why I am so tired?" He yawned again and stretched as I looked at him in disgust.

"This is a men's scarf, Augustus," I deadpanned and he surprisingly nodded enthusiastically.

"She's a tomboy," was his answer.

"It has men's cologne on it, Augustus," I continued undeterred and he shrugged in disregard.

"It is my cologne, obviously," he smiled.

"That's not your smell, I know it-"

"I know. I changed it," he said nonchalantly.

"Show me the bottle," I said, gritting my teeth.

"Bad luck, Dad, I just finished the bottle and dumped it at Deepika's yesterday," he said, wriggling his eyebrows. "Why are you angry anyway?"

"I am angry because you are lying, Augustus!"

He scoffed. "Why would I lie to you?"

"You were with Julius yesterday, weren't you?"

He stared at me as if shocked.

"Who's Julius? I don't know anyone with this name except for the Roman emperor which we studied about in like...grade five?" He visibly cringed.

I raised my eyebrows, then narrowed my eyes.

"Or wait-" He snapped his fingers and frowned. "Or are you talking about that Julius, the one you said was my half-brother-"

"That one." I further narrowed my eyes at his obscured ones. I couldn't read them for the first time in my life.

"What about him?" He pushed back the hair falling over his eyes with a frown.

"Were you or were you not with him?"

He looked at me as if offended. "Why would I do something like that?"

"I could ask you the same."

"Dad, are you accusing me of actually going and spending time with that bloody vermin? Where do you think my loyalty lies?!" He almost shouted angrily and I shut up surprised.

"I don't know anymore," I said sadly and sighed.

"You don't know?!" He repeated with emphasis, getting off the bed, only in his boxers and socks, his hair everywhere. He would pass as a kid if it weren't for his tall and lean, muscular built.

"Don't blame me, son," I muttered, feeling my heart sink at how much he'd grown up. "I hurt you."

He pushed back the hair off his eyes and looked at me questioningly. His eyes were a disturbed, blue ocean looking at the world.

"I didn't know-" I said, referring to the skinny bitch I killed a few days ago. Augustus' heart was broken- I was sure. Just like I was sure he was lying because I knew he wouldn't touch anybody if his heart was someone else's. My son and I know him. Loyal.

"Whatever." He replied bitterly and I could sense his anger, sadness, and desperation pierce my heart at once. "Mistakes happen."

He looked away and faced the balcony.

My heart sank when his shoulders slumped. "She wasn't a mistake, August," I managed to utter, looking at his back's muscles that tensed at my words.

"For you, it seemed to be," came his soft, void of emotion reply.

Feeling his heartbreak, I looked away and sat on his bed. "I am sorry," I decided to say, glancing at his back. He ran his fingers through his thick, almost-white hair that shone lusciously in the sunlight. He then dropped his hands and started fidgeting non-stop with the ring on his finger.

He then stopped

"It's okay, Dad." He said, took a deep breath and turned to me, smiling. A smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. It didn't make me feel any much better.

His face was slightly red and his eyes teary, but I ignored- what could I do? He then approached me and sat next to me.

When he looked at me, his eyes...watered.

"But Deepika is something else, Dad. Forget, Katy." He said, referring to the stripper back in Glasgow. "Another species-" He stopped, unable to form complete sentences as he shut his eyes and tried stopping his lips from quivering. "Wild!" He continued with difficulty. "The kind of wild we both love! I've got to introduce you to her one day."

He then shook his head and laughed. "Her hands were so tiny, Dad." His glassy eyes then widened as if in realization. "Like you said Mum's were! You need to spend a night with her for real. I just really, really hope she's still there, because-" He inhaled sharply and casually wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "-because, she says she likes change. She doesn't stay in one place. She likes variety, she said. I bet she's in a much better place."

I tried my best to plaster a smile on my face but I knew it kept falling. So did my heart.

"I would love to meet her," I whispered. "Deepika."

Augustus then grinned, his eyes crinkling, releasing tears from the sides, as he raised his index finger. "If she returns."

He then jolted up. "Come on, Dad. I'm starving. Let's have breakfast, okay? I'm gonna jump in the shower!" He blabbered, blindly taking clothes from his closet. "Tell them to prepare Nutella crepes with blueberries. Don't ask why. I'm craving them."

He then hurried out of the room, nudging his right elbow with the door's casing.

"I'm so sorry, son," I muttered to myself, feeling my eyes water.