BLOODY LOVE'S
Extra 8: Concatenation

"You can actually drag Eastwood back and throw him instead of being a shield" Jeanne said after a long silence.

"It's too risky" Marco said. "I didn't have time to measure how far the reach of the stick was."

They were in one of the staff rooms in the discussion building, a small quiet room with two-layer glass windows and a soft red carpet covering the marble floor. Jeanne sat on one of the long chairs attached to the wall while Marco was by her side. There's only the two of them there. Rolan had just left after treating the wound on Marco's forehead. The doctor also took Nolan away to give them some personal space.

"You angry?" ask Jeanne slowly.

"No."

"You haven't looked at me since."

Marco is actually still lazy to talk. His head was throbbing and a sense of panic was still left in his heart. He was really shocked to hear the sound of Nolan and Jeanne when he was about to leave the building. Marco thought it was just a hallucination. Then there's Eastwood's voice. He saw Jeanne slap the baron angrily, then Eastwood raised the stick, then knew Marco had moved himself to run. The last time he ran that fast was when he ran away from the golems chasing him and Nolan in the sacred forest last year.

"What are you doing here?" marco finally asked. He didn't mean to say it angrily, but it just sounded like that, so he continued more softly, "I'm asking you to stay home, right?"

"I told you yesterday that this morning there was a meeting with the Daily Bjork people, right? You said no problem?"

"It doesn't matter because you said the meeting was at the restaurant, not at the Discussion Hall!"

The impact made Jeanne jump in shock.

Marco clenched both his hands on his knees. It was horrifying to imagine the tall and steep steps of the Discussion Building, not to mention that there were occasional fights there. Marco could not imagine what would happen if he arrived late.

"I just .. I saw your car, then ... " Jeanne stop. His voice grew louder as he continued, "I just want to see you."

"You should've—" Marco's voice disappeared as soon as he turned his head and found Jeanne shifting closer. The sound of soft swiping cloth filled the room. Jeanne looked at him with soft and tender eyes. Again the green eyes made him melt and could not finish the sentence. Her dark brown strands of hair were pulled back in a neat bun, but there were shiny strands that escaped from the circam and dangled in front of Jeanne's ears.

It was impossible to remain angry at the woman if she was always fascinated every time she looked at her.

"I'm sorry" Jeanne whispered. Her irises were shaking, wet dewy. He lowered his head slightly as he pulled off the glove he was wearing from the tip of his finger.

Marco noticed the clumsy fingers, which always danced on piano keys for him in their spare time. As Jeanne was unknowingly being noticed, her focus was again on the gauze-covered wound in Marco's temple.

"Your head is dizzy? His voice was so loud. How about we go to the hospital? It still hurts, right?"

It actually hurt, but it's nothing to Marco than if Jeanne was hurt like this. Marco's hands clenched above his knees. He won't spare Eastwood.

"Your room should be moved to the first floor" he said.

Jeanne looked at him confused. "Why all of a sudden?"

"Not suddenly. I've been thinking about it since yesterday." The stairs in this building made him remember that the manor was just as dangerous because their room was on the second floor.

Jeanne's quiet. His hand was placed on his stomach. It's a new habit since pregnancy while trying to calm down. "You ... punish me?"

If the temples didn't hurt if they frowned, Marco did. "Why is paying attention to your safety a punishment?"

Marco looked at his wife in surprise, trying to digest what the sentence meant. The sweet scent of orchids and vanilla filled his lungs every time he took a breath, making him slowly calm and able to think clearly. "I also moved down with you. You think I can just relax and leave you alone?"

Jeanne blinked once. "Oh," he said slowly. The red hue radiates from Jeanne's high collar to her cheekbones. He blinked again and muttered, Another "Oh," that was more relieved.

Marco loved him, the child he now bears is proof of that. But sometimes Jeanne still had a hard time believing, as if she was in a dream that would disappear when she woke up. It's funny, but he was too happy this year to make mistakes that even ruined Marco—'s plans just now. He tried to be careful and thought twice before acting. But always, every time he let his guard down a little, things turned bad and he became afraid his dream would end.

"I'm sorry, I messed things up," Jeanne finally just whispered that in embarrassment. Instead of helping, she always creates new problems for her husband. "I'm .. I'll go home first."

"No, don't go anywhere." Marco caught Jeanne's hand quickly. "I'll take you later, in a minute. We'll wait for Rolan to return."

"You're right" Jeanne murmured, again regretting being too hasty to make a decision.

"And stop apologizing. It was beyond my expectations, but the result was the same as I wanted" Marco continued more gently. The anger that had appeared on his face had now disappeared. "You could say you helped me. More importantly, you guys are fine."

Jeanne bit her lip, embarrassed that Marco could read it as easily as an open book. One of the man's hands grabbed his jaw, removing the wet trace in the corner of his eye with his thumb. Jeanne shrunk her gaze from the thick muscular arms hidden behind layers of shirt and suit, then on the chest of the field in front of her. There was something amazingly soothing whenever he put his body in Marco's firm embrace and inhaled the scent of dried leaves and mint from the layers of his clothes.

Jeanne could feel Marco's warm breath sweeping her forehead as it approached. Realizing the man's intentions, he closed his eyes. His body turned into a light flake that flew into the clouds, then fused back together when he felt a hot sweep on his upper lip, another touch at the corner of his lips, then a gentle sip on his lower lip. He felt the hair of his whiskers and the delicate sideburns rub against his facial skin, making it melt.

Marco's freely slipping hand touched Jeanne's nape, holding her in place in a soft squeeze while her lips gave one more kiss, this time soft and short. Marco's thumb rubbed the dent under Jeanne's lips.

"Again" whispered Jeanne subconsciously, still closing her eyes, hoping for another kiss that was louder and longer. Marco gave him what he wanted. Jeanne opened her lips, welcoming the wet touch of the man's tongue, letting hunger roll over them slowly. His arms surrounded Marco's neck, his hands drowning in the man's thick silver hair.

When the kiss was finally over, the two of them were still leaning on each other's eyebrows, gasping for breath. Jeanne blushed. "I want to continue" he said shyly.

"No, no. That's right, Jean. Sometimes I can't understand your way of thinking" Marco said, keeping his head off. "I'm even wondering how you could have stayed this calm despite almost wretchedness just now."

"I don't mean continue here" Jeanne said amusedly. "I can stay calm because I believe in you. When you proposed to me, you swore—"

His speech was cut by the sound of a loud slam from outside. It sounds like a door was clipped open or something was hit. His voice came from the front of the building.

The two exchanged looks. Marco gave the message, "Don't go anywhere," then walked outside the room to check.

Jeanne stared at the closing door, waiting until the sound of Marco's steps disappeared, then slowly got up from her chair and walked towards the window to peer outside.

Many people ran and crowded. There were vague screaming sounds due to the muffled window glass. Judging from the barrels rolling and breaking in the streets, Jeanne guessed that there was an overloaded freight carriage until the string of rope broke off, making the load carried spill. Such accidents do happen often, not even rarely take a toll.

Jeanne saw that Rolan was among the crowd. Judging from the man's calm and cold expression, he could guess who the victim was.

Jeanne smiled, releasing a small hum from between her lips.

***

¬Concatenation: network