Death by Dreaming - 2. Chapter 2

By the time Angel switched off the laptop he could barely see the screen. Fatigue was tugging at his mind and wrapping it in a blanket of fog. He didn’t even make it to the bathroom and was barely able to peel off his clothes and throw them onto the floor before sinking into a deep sleep.

He awoke suddenly some time in the middle of the night. Everything was still and silent. He lay for a while listening to his heart beat loudly in his ears and then he closed his eyes again with a sigh. He felt strange, heavy and light at the same time. A pounding headache was beginning deep in his head and he wanted nothing more than to sink back into oblivion.

A soft light filtered through his eyelids and he opened his eyes again to find a dark shape looming over him. It occurred to him that he ought to feel afraid but he wasn’t, he didn’t have the energy to fear.

The figure was blurred and indistinct and he tried to raise his hand to rub his eyes but he couldn’t, he was frozen, utterly helpless. He felt a hand touch his face, stroke his cheek and heard a soft voice speaking close to his ear. Although he couldn’t distinguish words the voice and the touch were gentle and calming. Feeling his body relax he began to sink towards sleep again but something tugged him awake, a word? a slap? He had no idea but forced open heavy, drugged eyes and blinked as something was held before his face.

A kaleidoscope of colour and bright, flashing lights pulsed into his eyes and stabbed into his brain. He blinked repeatedly and tried to turn his head away as it was uncomfortable and painful to face the vision. It occurred to him that there was something strange about this, something unnatural. He was very cold and the images were nightmarish.

The voice was whispering in his ear again, painting a picture and, as his eyes flickered and closed his mind was filled with an image, the image of a man with piercingly blue eyes who was reaching out to him. There was something sinister in those eyes, the hands that were reaching for him. The man meant him harm. Was this a warning? Was it a dream? Was he being given a message?

The man’s hands closed on his arms and dragged him downwards, his lips moved and although he didn’t consciously hear the words they sank into his mind as his mind sank into darkness.

“You are mine. I will send signs and every one will draw you closer to me. You cannot escape. I have put my mark on you and you are mine. You cannot escape. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

The words were still ringing in his mind when he woke with a shock and realised that he had been dreaming. A glance at the clock told him that it was still only four in the morning. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry. He toyed with the idea of getting a drink from the bathroom but simply didn’t have the energy. He turned over and within minutes he was asleep again. This time he didn’t dream.

The next time he woke the sun was streaming through the window and stabbing into his eyes. He groaned and rolled away from the window. Checking the clock he sat bolt upright and swung his legs over the bed, groaning. It wasn’t like him to sleep in and it was already half past eleven.

Hurriedly he turned on the shower and stepped under the warm water, closing his eyes and sighing with pleasure. For all that he had slept in so late he felt tired and out of sorts, and spent far too long with his eyes closed and face raised to the shower head.

Realising with a start that he had almost fallen asleep again, standing up in the shower, he hastily rubbed shampoo into his hair, rinsed it, repeated with conditioner and then stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Half heartedly rubbing his hair with another towel he squeezed toothpaste onto the brush and looked up at himself in the mirror. His eyes were dark and shadowed and he grimaced.

When he came out of the bathroom he was shocked to find that it was already ten past twelve and by the time he had dressed he barely had time to throw on some cloths and hurry down to the conservatory to check the lunch that had already been set out there before it was time to hurry out onto the front steps to wait.

Sitting on the steps, feeling the sun warm on his face Angel sighed in contentment. Three whole weeks filled with easy companionship and fun. He needed this. God how he needed this. He leaned back on his elbows and closed his eyes, raising his face higher, feeling the kiss of the sunshine on his face, balanced by a slight, warm breeze that lifted his hair and stroked his cheeks with gentle fingers.

The caress of the breeze brought back a sudden memory of another caress, the ghostly touch that had haunted his dream the night before. An image of blue eyes flashed across his mind and was gone leaving him suddenly feeling weak and shaky. Opening his eyes, he sat up and was surprised to find that his hands were shaking.

“For God’s sake Angel,” he murmured to himself, “pull yourself together. It was only a dream. Just a dream after all.” But his hands did not stop shaking and he stood up, irritably thrusting them into his pockets.

He did not have much time to think about the strange dream and its shocking effect on him because he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle and a few minutes later a silver convertible appeared around the bend in the drive and crunched across the gravel to come to a halt a few feet away.

Almost before the car stopped the passenger door was thrown open and suddenly his arms were full of 5 ‘ 2’’ and 100 lbs of excited woman and flying auburn hair. Taken by surprise he laughed and hugged her back.

“God Charlie it’s good to see you.”

The Honourable Charlotte Erica Lauren Coates-Young, or Charlie to her friends was a powerhouse of pent up energy. She didn’t so much walk as bounce and there was plenty there to bounce with. Although slender and petite she was curved in all the right places and her ample charms were enhanced rather than flaunted by well cut and classy designer clothes. She tilted her elfin face up to his and regarded him critically from cool green eyes. She frowned.

“You look awful. What’s wrong?”

Angel smiled and shook his head. “Nothing. Just didn’t sleep very well. I was too excited.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“Neither can I. I was enjoying some nice peace and quiet. No chance of that now, is there.”

“At least we get to share it out. I’m practically in a coma... got talked senseless all the way.”

Angel lifted his eyes and smiled. Marcus had followed Charlie at a more sedate pace and paused a few steps away. He was smiling but that same goddamed expression was in his eyes, a strange reserve... almost as if he didn’t want to be there. Angel shook himself mentally. Of course he wanted to be there. He wouldn’t have driven for two and a half hours if he hadn’t wanted to be there would he? Would he?

Realising he was frowning and that the same expression was beginning to creep over Marcus’s face he made an effort to smile and dragged his eyes away from Marcus’s to reconnect with Charlie. Her frown had deepened but she said nothing.

“Are you hungry?”

“Is the Pope Catholic?”

Angel laughed and, taking her by the hand he drew her up the steps, pausing to give direction to the butler as to where to take the luggage. As they disappeared around the side of the house uniformed attendants were descending the steps to take the luggage to the guest rooms and the car to the garages.

The conservatory was a beautiful building opening onto a patio with a tremendous view across the formal, laid out gardens. Angel put on some music they all liked and it played softly in the background as they ate and caught up on all the gossip. They fell quickly into the same easy companionship they had always enjoyed and Angel began to relax and to believe that the tension he had felt creeping into his relationship with Marcus was imagined, merely a reflection of the tension he had been feeling generally of late.

“Did you manage to fit all her Ladyship’s luggage into the car Marc?”

“Barely. Of course there wasn’t room for mine so I am going to have to wear the same stinky clothes the whole time.”

“As if. Honestly Angel, he has brought more than I have. There was barely room to breathe in the car.”

“Yeah...I believe that. How many dresses did you bring to choose from for the ball?”

She blushed. “Only three.”

“And I bet they took up a case all of their own... with the matching accessories of course.”

“Nonsense. They are all very small and hardly take up any room at all... and they are all black so the accessories are the same.”

The boys exchanged amused glances and Charlie mock pouted until she had to laugh at their expressions.

“I’ll bet Marc’s tux takes up more room... after all there is more of him to cover. He’s got so fat.”

Marcus’s eyes went wide with indignation and Angel couldn’t help but cast him a critical glance. It was true that he was bigger than he’d remembered, but none of the extra mass was fat, far from it. Marcus was lounging on a chaise longue with a glass of wine dangling from his fingers. He filled the piece of furniture and Angel was surprised to notice that his shoulders were so broad, the muscles of his chest straining the material of the dark polo shirt he wore, open at the throat. His legs, encased in stonewashed jeans were long and muscular but the belly beneath the silver buckle on his belt was as flat as ever... the definition of his abs was just about visible in the same way as his pecs.

With a start Angel realised he was staring and when he lifted his eyes he saw with some embarrassment that Marcus had noticed and was frowning, that same strained expression back in his eyes. Angel blushed and looked away.

“Yeah right. Fat.”

Charlie laughed and threw herself on Marcus, causing him to drop his glass spilling wine on the tiled floor. She pinched his muscles and made him giggle uncontrollably.

“See. Here... and here... and here... You’ve got so fat, fat, fat.” She sang until Marcus easily flipped her over and held her across his knees slapping her backside.

“Not as fat as you. Look at this rump. We’d get a nice piece of steak off there.”

Charlie squealed and giggled and the tension vanished.

“It’s good to see you children having fun.”

At the sound of the voice they all looked up and froze. Charles smiled graciously at Marcus and Charlie, ignoring Angel.

“I trust that Alexander has seen to your luggage and that you have enjoyed lunch. I was hoping that you would join us all for dinner in the main dining room. It would be nice to get to know you a little better as you are going to be our guests.”

“They’re my guests, and we are not children. Please don’t be so condescending or attempt to infer that we are a ‘family’. I have no desire to inflict you upon my friends so I would appreciate it if you would keep out of our way while they are here.”

“Now, now Alexander. You were brought up better than to show such discourtesy in company. I’ll expect you in the main dining room at seven. In the meantime I would be grateful if you would meet me in the study in half an hour... there is someone I would like you to meet.”

“Who?” Angel’s eyes had narrowed suspiciously and both Charlie and Marcus were watching Charles with open hostility on their faces. He appeared oblivious.

“My lawyer. He has brought some papers over for you to look at.”

“If they are anything to do with what we were discussing the other night you can forget it. I am not going to sign anything that gives you more power over me.”

Charles’ lips twitched but his voice was perfectly level when he spoke. “On the contrary, my dear Alexander, the papers are a preliminary to the handing over of power to you. Your signature is required for such matters as setting up access to bank accounts, registering your position on the board etc. These things take time to arrange and your father’s will was clear that they were to be in place before your birthday.”

“Oh.” Angel was taken by surprise and for a moment could do nothing but stare at Charles with wide eyes. Charles smiled.

“Half an hour Alexander. Please don’t be late. It will set a bad example a poor precedent.” He raked Angel with his eyes critically. “It would help if you were more suitably attired but, oh well I suppose you will have to do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner? You knew my friends were coming today.”

“I received a call from the lawyer this morning. He is a very busy man and I did not want to have to put it off otherwise we would probably have to go to him.”

“Oh. Alright. What’s his name?”

“Mr Albernack, from Linklaters. We are very lucky that he agreed to travel down here at all.”

“I’ll bet. I have never heard any of them complain.”

“Alexander...”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there. Now if you don’t mind we were in the middle of something.”

Charles glanced at Charlie, who was still sprawled face down over Marcus’s knees. “So I can see.”

Without another word he turned and stalked out of the room.

The visit had taken all the fun out of the moment. Charlie got up and resumed her seat and Angel poured Marcus another glass of wine and then sat down on the window seat and stared out into the garden.

“Don’t worry about him Angel. He’s an arse. We’re here now and we’ll look after you.” Charlie got up and stood behind him, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. He reached up to cover it with his own and turned his head to smile at her.

“I’m not worried, just frustrated and annoyed. I...” He sighed. “Never mind. Would you like to walk in the garden for a while?”

“No. I want to stay here and I want you to tell us all about what has been going on. No crap Angel. You look awful and Charles has the look of a cat that got the cream. What’s he up to? What’s been going on?”

Angel sighed. “Nothing’s been going on, not really. They’re just as horrible as ever. If anything Charles seems to have calmed down a bit since that row the other night. That was his attempt at being charming in front of visitors.”

Charlie was absently stoking his hair, letting the long strands of silk, so bright it was almost metallic gold, slide through her fingers. He rested his head back against her and she drew his hair back behind his shoulders, exposing his neck. Seeing the bruises that were now dark against his pale skin Marcus swore.

“Fuck Angel... you didn’t tell us it was that bad.”

“What?” Charlie was alarmed by the tone in his voice.

Angel, just as startled met Marcus’s eyes and his own widened. For a moment he had no idea what Marcus was talking about then his hand went unconsciously to his throat. Charlie, following events with her eyes, caught on and drew his hand away. At first he resisted and then let his hand drop into his lap. Charlie tilted his head so she could get a better look.

“Jesus Angel... he was being serious. He could have killed you.”

“He wouldn’t have done that. He’s just a bully.”

“I’ll show him bully when I get my hands on him.”

“Please Marcus. Don’t. You promised you wouldn’t make trouble. You’re only here for three weeks and I have to live with them for god knows how long. These next three months are going to be hard enough without stirring up the hornet’s nest.”

“But Angel... how can you expect me to... how can I...” Simmering Marcus turned away and slammed his hand against the window frame.

“Please.” Suddenly Angel felt very tired. It almost overwhelmed him and he had to close his eyes. The look in Marcus’ eyes was hot and angry and for a moment it almost felt as if the anger was directed at him. He felt that he couldn’t bear it if he was going to have to cope with that the whole time. He was too tired to be walking on eggshells and worrying every time they turned a corner.

He opened his eyes and found Marcus looking at him. He didn’t say anything but he saw the look change, the anger fade to be replaced by something else... understanding. In the end he nodded slowly.

“Alright. I understand. I know you have to live with the losers. I won’t do anything that makes it harder for you. But I am not going to stand by and let you be abused while I am here.”

Angel smiled, filling up with sunshine and saw the look change again. For a moment Marcus almost looked stunned and then the shutters fell and there was that look again, that strange closed look that was shutting him out. He shivered and frowned. What was going on? Didn’t Marcus like him any more? But surely he wouldn’t have been so angry with Henry if he didn’t. His head ached with confusion and he sighed.

“I had better get to that meeting. If I am a minute late I will never hear the last of it.”

“You have loads of time.”

“I don’t want to take the risk... besides I don’t want Charles to have time with that lawyer before I get there.”

“Do you want us to come?”

“Yes... but I don’t think you should. It would make things... difficult.”

We’ll just come with you to the hall then... see you safely to the study and then we’ll go and get the rooms settled.”

“Alright.” Angel would never have admitted the intense relief he felt about this. For some reason he had a bad feeling about this meeting. He would have liked to take them into it with him but he had a fair idea of how it was going to go and he felt acutely embarrassed about the way he knew he was going to be treated by his guardian, and probably by the lawyer as well.

As they entered the hall the deep boom of the door knocker sounded making Angel jump. He checked his watch and narrowed his eyes. So Charles had arranged for the lawyer to be there early.

While the butler opened the door Angel crossed the hall, leaving Marcus and Charlie at the bottom of the stairs.

“Mr Albernack?”

“Yes, I have an appointment with Mr Bishop.”

“If you would like to follow me, sir.”

Angel changed his course so that he moved around the butler to intercept the lawyer.

“I think your appointment is with me too.”

“Master Alexander. I didn’t hear you sir.” Apologised the butler.

“That’s alright Mr Charlton. I’ll take it from here.” He smiled and swore Charlton winked at him before he bowed respectfully and turned away.

“Ah. You must be Mr Bartholomew. It is a pleasure to meet you at last.”

Smiling Angel turned to look at the lawyer and held out his hand. He never felt the grip and the smile first froze and then faded as his eyes met the ice blue gaze, so familiar, so...

The last thing that Angel remembered was the eyes, the blue, blue eyes which reached out of his dream as the hand reached out for his and, as before they pulled him down past the sudden pressure in his head.

The lawyer frowned as the young man to whom he had just been introduced simply froze and the startling blue eyes flickered as he started to blink repeatedly.

“Mr Batholomew? Are you alright? Mr Bartholomew?” The hand that held his in a tight grip began to shake and the lawyer growing alarmed raised his eyes to look around for help.

Marcus and Charlie, watching from across the hall couldn’t help but smile at the smooth way that Angel intercepted the lawyer. Then when he froze they saw Mr Albernack’s face change and even before he looked up they were moving. They went into automatic mode. They knew what to do... it had happened before.

Angel was completely rigid, his eyes wide, still blinking and his hand still gripping with crushing force. Marcus helped the startled lawyer wrench his hand free then wrapped his arms around Angel from behind bracing him when, moments later his head jerked back, his eyes rolled and he collapsed. After lowering him carefully to the ground Marcus knelt beside him, protecting his head while his body began to shake and then to convulse in uncontrollable spasms.

While Marcus helped Angel, not attempting in any way to restrain him just ensuring he was safe and not hurting himself by striking his head against the hard floor tiles Charlie took the lawyer by the arm and gently but firmly led him away, towards the study.

“What... what’s happening? What’s wrong with him?”

“I would have thought that’s obvious. He’s having a seizure. He’s epileptic. It happens. It’s no big deal.”

Mr Albernack looked at her, his eyes wide. She had look in her eyes he well understood. Pausing for a moment he took a breath to steady himself and then smiled and nodded.

As they approached the door of the study it flew open. “What the hell’s going on out here? Oh... Mr Albernack. I had no idea you were here. Lady Charlotte? What...?”

“Angel is not feeling well. He won’t be at the meeting.”

“But that’s outrageous. Mr Albernack has travelled all this way. What is the boy playing at?”

“That will be quite alright Mr Bishop. I am sure that you and I can deal with the majority of the paperwork and I will leave it with you. Mr Bartholomew can sign it and have it sent on later.” He glanced at Charlie and smiled, while Charles, his anger fading into confusion looked past them to where Marcus was still bending over Angel.

“Alexander? What...?”

“It’s quite alright Mr Bishop. We will take care of Angel. I’m sure you don’t want to keep Mr Albernack waiting.”

“But...”

“I said... we’ll take care of him.”

Charles dragged his eyes back to her and swallowed, nodding before stepping aside to let the lawyer into the room. He cast another worried look across the hall before he closed the door behind him.

By the time Charlie got back Angel was already relaxing. As soon as he stopped seizing Marcus gathered him into his arms and held him close to his body so that when his eyes flickered open a few moments later he was staring up into Marcus’ face.

“It’s okay babe. You’re okay. Just relax for a minute, take it easy yeah?”

Angel blinked and stared at him blankly. He had no idea where he was but the face that was hovering anxiously over his own didn’t look threatening, in fact it looked... it looked... He frowned and reached up with a heavy hand, still trembling with after shocks, to touch it, just to make sure it was real. He smiled hesitantly when the face drew back a little, startled then leaned in to his touch with the softest, sweetest look in its eyes.

He tried to speak, but it came out as a moan and he closed his eyes again, overcome with fatigue, allowing his hand to fall. It hit the floor with a thud and startled Marcus who had been as lost.

“Is he okay?”

Marcus looked up slightly startled, realising with a shock that he had forgotten Charlie was even there.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. We should get him out of here though.”

“May I be of assistance Sir?”

Marcus jumped again and looked up to find Charlton standing quietly close by.

“I... yes, can you just help me get him upstairs. He needs to sleep it off. He’ll be fine in a couple of hours.”

Charlton smiled. “Don't worry Sir, I have experience of these things. I have been with the family since before Master Angel was born.”

“Yes... yes of course, I remember... I’m sorry, it’s just...”

“Of course Sir. I understand.”

Marcus looked startled and Charlton smiled gently. Did he understand? Did he really?

Together Marcus and Charlton managed to get Angel to his feet. He was still very disoriented and unsteady and in the end Marcus swept him up in his arms and carried him up stairs to his room.

After settling Angel on his bed Marcus and Charlie were about to leave him to rest. But as they opened the door he stirred and called out.

“Please... please where are you?”

“Here dude.”

“What..? Where are you going?” He sounded upset.

“We were going to give you some peace. You need to rest for a while.”

“No... I... I don’t want to sleep, don’t want to dream. Please stay.”

Marcus gave Charlie a strange look and then smiled. “You go and settle into your room,” he said softly, “I’ll stay with him.”

“Are you sure?”

“I... I... yes. Yes I am absolutely sure. I want to. I... There are some things I need to work out. It will give me time to think.”

“Is everything okay.”

“Yes, fine... well no, not exactly but don’t worry. It’s my issue I’ll work it out.”

“Anything I can help with?”

He grinned at her. “Hardly. Seriously Charlie it’s okay... just something stupid, something I can deal with.”

“Alright. I’ll chill in my room. I have a book and I can watch tv. Come get me when you’re ready.”

“Thanks Charlie.”

Marcus closed the door and, with steps that were strangely reluctant he made his way back across the room to the bed. Angel was staring up at him with eyes that were almost completely blank. The part that wasn’t was scared and Marcus felt guilty for his reluctance.

“What’s the matter,” he asked as he climbed onto the bed and lay down next to Angel.

“Don’t want to dream.”

“Why?”

“I... it... my dream made me... I... Please don’t leave me alone.”

“It’s alright. I promise. You get some sleep and I’ll be right here. I’ll keep the dreams away.”

Angel looked at him with such a confused and puzzled look on his face that it made him smile. He stroked Angels’ hair soothingly. “You have absolutely no idea who I am or what I’m talking about do you?”

“I...I think... I...maybe.”

“Sssh now. Go to sleep and when you wake up it will all make sense, it always does.”

Obediently Angel nodded and closed his eyes. Marcus continued stroking his hair long after he had fallen asleep. When he stopped Angel sighed and snuggled closer, throwing his arm around Marcus and pulling him close. Marcus tensed but couldn’t see a way to extricate himself without waking Angel and in the end he just sighed, let his body relax and closed his eyes.

His mind was in turmoil. So many things to think of; so much confusion and pain. Marcus was not from the same world as Charlie and Angel. His mother was American and he lived half his time, when not at university, in Manhatten and half in London. The three of them had been friends since they were toddlers as their mothers had been close. When Lady Olivier died the remaining two friends had done everything in their power to care for Angel with the result that he had spent as much, if not more time at their houses as he did his own, especially in the beginning.

Sometimes Marcus thought of Angel as his brother and Charlie his sister... sometimes. Recently he had been spending a lot of time in America and the plastic falseness of the Upper East Side had sickened him like it never had before. Of course the exclusive clubs of the English upper classes were no better. If your face didn’t fit... if you didn’t have the right connections... if your money wasn’t ‘old’ enough, you could be given a hard time by some of them... but on the whole as long as you had the money and stamina to party you would be accepted pretty much anywhere you went, and there were plenty of people like Charlie and Angel who didn’t give a shit who you were or where you came from... if they liked you then you were in.

Not so in Manhatten. It was a constant competition... who had the most money, the best connections, the biggest house. Of course Marcus, being the step son of an English Lord, was pretty much top of the ladder and in high demand but the last time he had been there his eyes had been opened to the petty, spiteful, mean natured elements that seemed more prevalent there than in London.

It had got him thinking. At first it was innocent enough. He had pondered the sweet nature of his friends and, although if he was being fair he had to admit that there was as much pettiness, spite and mean spirit in England it was muted for him because among his friends there was none. Angel in particular did not have a mean bone in his body and most of the time he seemed entirely oblivious to his wealth and status.

He was as comfortable with the staff as with his father’s friends and contemporaries and seemed effortlessly nice to everyone. In Manhatten being nice seemed to be viewed as a weakness and yes, there were sharks in London too but...well... there was no one in the Upper East Side society that was remotely like Angel. Although, when he had thought about it, there was no one in London like him either... in fact there was probably no one anywhere quite like him.

That was when things began to get strange. He found himself thinking of Angel more and more, missing him. When things were going well they lost their edge because Angel wasn’t there to share it with him. When things were not going so well he felt lost and wanted Angel there to lean on, to banish the darkness with a single smile.

When they were speaking on the telephone or online it was easy to lose himself in the gentle sweetness that was so apparent. He could hold back and take time to respond, thinking carefully about the words he said and the way he said them. But that was the thing... more and more he did have to watch what he was saying because the things that came to his mind were not things that he could actually say.

The thing was... the really scary thing was that recently... probably about a year, Marcus had stopped thinking of Angel as a brother and started thinking about him in a different way altogether. It had been insidious at first, so insidious he had not even noticed it. It had started with a growing appreciation of... the way the sun glinted on his hair, the way his eyes lit up when he smiled, the way he looked up through his fringe when he was feeling nervous or shy. He found himself staring just a little too long, listening to the sound of his voice and not what he was saying, looking for reasons to be with him, to speak to him, even to touch him.

When he realised what was happening he started to get frightened. At first he was scared that Angel would notice, and then he was scared that others would notice... and now he was scared about having the feelings in the first place and what they might mean.

He had tried to put distance between them, to cut down on the time he spent speaking to Angel, and avoided being in his presence as often as possible. But that was just torture, and not only that but it was hurting Angel too... he could see it in his eyes, the confusion, the pain, the self doubt... wondering what he had done. The fact is he had done nothing, nothing other that being himself.

Marcus had spent a lot of time and energy trying to analyse his feeling but he had got nowhere because, to be frank they scared him. If Angel had been a girl he would have admitted that he was falling in love... but he wasn’t... so he couldn’t be... could he?

He knew that Charlie was more than half in love with Angel and often spoke to him about it, bemoaning the fact that he was entirely oblivious. She had tried her hardest to get him to show some romantic interest in her but he never had. As far as Marcus knew Angel had never been romantically interested in anyone and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t had plenty of opportunities with plenty of people. The truth was that Angel was so self contained, so... focussed on himself... not self absorbed but more insular, almost isolated even in the middle of crowds... that he barely noticed other people and was oblivious to their interest.

Looking down into the beautiful, peaceful, sleeping face Marcus was seized with an almost unbearable urge to touch it, to stroke the shining golden hair, to trace the delicate brows and pouting lips. He shivered. What the hell was he thinking? For a moment he’d almost... he could almost imagine...

Closing his eyes he tried to bring his raging emotions under control. This was wrong for so many reasons. How could he be thinking about another man in this way? He wasn’t gay. He’d had girlfriends and he enjoyed the feel of a woman’s body in his arms, the feminine form enticed and excited him. He had even thought he might have been in love... once or twice...but that had been before.

Hell he couldn’t be gay. He had never looked at another man and wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to feel them in his arms, to smell the musk instead of the perfume. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had the opportunity, even the offers, but it had never appealed to him. It hadn’t repulsed him... just not appealed. He never looked at a man and wondered, or dreamed, or imagined... never, at least not until...

Angel sighed and murmured something in his sleep unconsciously tightening his hold on Marcus and he groaned aloud. What the fuck was happening to him? Closing his eyes he allowed his cheek to rest on the soft hair, breathing in the scent of lavender and cologne... it was a heady mix.

Unconsciously his fingers stroked Angel’s back and he groaned again as something deep inside gave up the fight and allowed the realisation to hit him full force. Fuck. There was no denying it. He was in love with Angel. He had fallen hopelessly, helplessly and completely in love with his best friend. What the hell was he going to do now?