hello, just wanted to tell you how pretty your art is, it inspires me to draw again after a long time! and also, could do draw Curator feeding his brothers (crows xD)?
One of them is going to try stealing the whole baguette. X'D And thanks! I'm glad my doodles help you.
The gnawing feeling followed Alistair through the rest of the morning. After James left he tried to go back to bed, but he just couldn't shut his mind off enough to fall back to sleep. So instead, he cleaned the kitchen, took a shower and decided to head into the shop early.
Sitting in the back of his cab, he stared out the window with tried itchy eyes, no idea how he was meant to focus on work while worrying about his damn idiot boyfriend. Perhaps he should have simply used a dart on the man. Regretfully, there wasn't an amnesia dart strong enough to wipe away the ridiculous vendetta he had against Harry.
Of course, Alistair knew it wasn't really about Harry. It never had been. It had always been about James' own insecurities. Deep down, he believed he wasn't good enough. That he was only there because Lee Unwin died. And it was all made worse by the guilt and shame he'd been carrying since that fateful day in 1997.
I should have done it. I should have thrown myself on that grenade. James had said one dark night after a rough mission he'd barely survived, as he sat in Alistair's living room, an half empty bottle of tequila in front of him. But I didn't react quick enough. Lee did. Lee saw it, just like he would have seen the trip wire.
Their relationship had started that night.
Alistair had often wondered if Lee's death haunted James because he'd felt more than friendship for the man. He'd never asked, hadn't wanted to know, in all honesty, but he couldn't think of another explanation for why he was still so angry.
"Sir?" His drivers voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Thank you Jacob." He muttered, shoving open the cab door.
The shop wasn't due to open for another few hours, but Alistair was buzzed in and he made his down to the bullet train that would take him to Camelot. The journey while quicker than driving, it still left him time to think and worry.
Pulling out his phone, he typed a message. Have you arrived?
He let out a shaky sigh when he didn't instantly get a reply and swallowed thickly against his racing heart. He couldn't even lie to himself and say it was because he was underground, because Kingsman phones were made to avoid that particular issue.
He tapped his foot anxiously against the floor of the train and typed again.
Can you just tell me your safe
But still no reply. His grip tightened on his phone, if James was in the middle of a rescue or fleeing he obvious would be able to take five seconds to text back.
But he also wouldn't be able to text back if he were dead.
By the time the bullet began to slow, Alistair had made up his mind to go visit Merlin and demand he find James.
Alistair's eyes widened when the doors opened to reveal his idiot boyfriend.
"What's got you lookin' so worried?"
"Why didn't you answer my texts." Alistair all but yelled, his voice echoing off the walls.
James has the good sense to look guilty, "I figured you were on your way her so why bother."
"Why bother?" He growled, clenching his fists at his side. "I'd hit you if I didn't love you so much."
James smiled and took a step forward, pulling Alistair into a hug, "I love you too. And I'm sorry." He added quietly before leaning in to kiss him.
With a satisfied hum, Alistair pulled back, "Your forgiven, but we should stop for Merlin makes us clean out the kennels again.
James smiled, "It'll be worth it." He muttered, leaning it again.
It was another couple of minutes before they finally separated, and it occurred to Alistair to ask, "What about your rescue mission?"
"I decided to heed your warning. I gave all my information to Merlin instead. He said he'd look into it."
With a long relieved exhale, Alistair nodded, "Good. Thank you."
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