⚡️HAPPY 2018 EVERYONE ⚡️

Here are my goals of 2018! :
- finish this book!
-finish my larry book called Instagram!
-finish another 2 more books (don't know what ones yet) 🧐
-pass my A Levels (I want A* A B)
-stop using as much plastic ‼️
-lose a few pounds (never happens lol)
-be a better person.
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Specs of dust trickle through the open light glancing out of the slit between the blinds in the dark and depressing room Cove resides in. The room is spacious, wooden with a tall dark oak wardrobe sat beside a walk-in closet towards the left of the room. The bed is an excessively large California king sized bed, adorned with soft Cotten sheets, a faux fur blanket and too-many-to-count pillows. A deep, blood red carpet sprawls across the cold oak floorboards, and the same coloured red curtains dress the huge Victorian windows.

The faint noise of the flatscreen playing a re-run of The Big Bang Theory is almost mocking as the audiences laughter rings out.

Cove hasn't seen anybody in days, nobody apart from the maids which take him food, drink and to the courtyard for some air. The courtyard is beautiful, a place which somebody obvious takes much pride in. The rosebushes line each side of the building, red, yellow, white and orange. Lavender bushes decorate the sides of the walk paths - light flecks of purple complementing the autumn sky. In a symmetrical pattern, on both sides of the courtyard, a beautifully arranged pattern of boxed bushes create a swirl before making its centre which lies a large blossom tree.

One of the maids, her name Clarence, told him that they were still in France, a small little village of manor houses. The houses once held royalty he heard. Funny - now they hold the mafia.

It's all very bitter sweet.

He appreciates what is around him, he appreciates what he is able to witness first hand - nothing he would see in Alberto State. Everything here feels so clean ... so fresh and pure. The air is so clear, as well as the skies until it dawns, then it's filled with radiant pinks, purples, yellows and oranges. He loves seeing the little deers that tread wearily into the courtyard, stealing the water from the bird ponds and sniffing the berry bushes that awkwardly fill empty spaces.

He hates the bedroom, he wishes he could live in the courtyard with the deers. He knows that must sound absurd but it's seems like paradise to him right now - being as careless and free as a deer.

He wonders what it would be like ... to be free, really free.

Just image it.

Being able to roam earth without trouble, nobody asking for a passport or calling you an immigrant. The earths land free for all, free for you to feast on all its resources .. being able to find friendship, love and peace.

No guns, war, hate or evil.

Just peace.

Cove can feel the breeze as it flies through the dancing curtains, chilling the room slightly and making the hairs on his arms rise.

He takes a breath, trying not to cry.

It sounds crazy ... he know he does but he misses Modravé. Nobody is telling him what happened- it- it all happened so fast...

One week before ...

Cove sits patiently and quietly, watching intently at every move made. He wants to freak out and grab Modravé by the shoulders and shake him until he tells him exactly what is happening, but he can't. Modravé looks furious, there is a deep crease between his eyebrows and he's speaking with a deep ferocity, his voice deeper than ever.

Modravé is stood with Valentino and another man towards the left of the room by the window, peeking out now and again. Towards the right of the room are five men, sorting weapons and talking amongst one another quietly.

Cove feels anxious and awkward, nobody is talking to him, nor are they even looking at him. Yet, unlike how he would let it be within another, less violent situation, - he would start conversation, except, not with men like these. Not men that could kill him with no regard and zero remorse.

His slim fingers scratch at the sofa beneath him, the sound picking up with a man stood not too far from where Cove is sat.

"Stop doing that, boy", he speaks lowly, his eyes wide with threat and annoyance. His berating voice catches Cove off guard and he jumps - a squeak caught in the back of his throat.

"P-Pardon?"

"That. With your nails", Cove looks down and sees what he was doing, before ripping his hand away as though it was burnt.

"Oh. I-I'm sorry", we apologises meekly. If he wasn't so frightened right now, Cove would have happily cursed the oaf out. He hates it when big, burley men attempt to intimidate him.

The man sits next to Cove, which makes him flinch again.

The man's big head leans close to that of Cove's : "Listen, bitch." He grits out spitefully, his breath, as well as specs of spit, dusts over Cove's face, making him grimace in disgust. "I don't know why or for what reason boss wants you here with us, but I'm letting you know now, I won't be the one to die because of your bitch, faggot ass, got it? And I won't, let boss' reputation be tarnished because a whore like you supplies him endless ass, okay? He won't be seen as a faggot by anyone, especially not in a business like this".

The words don't hurt Cove. Nothing he said actually hurts him. Cove understands that peoples beliefs, specifically those about the lgbt, come from community, upbringings and education - so, he's built a barrier between him and words, especially who they come from.

But right now, what scares him, is the pair of eyes he's caught over the shoulder of the man. The eyes which are staring directing at him, squinting with an intoxicating ferocity.

Modravé heard everything.

"Got it?" The man grits out again, not realising he's just signed his death certificate.

Cove doesn't know what to do other than gawk, his eyes glancing back and forth between Modravé and the stupid man before him. He almost feels sorry for him and what is about to happen. Key work: almost.

"I'm a faggot now, am I?" Modrave inquires, voice in contrast from his expression. His voice is calm, yet assertive. However, his face is carved with anger.

Cove would've laughed at the face of the imbecile if it wasn't so tense.

The man didn't say much, his eyes said all that was needed. "No, boss. I was just infor-"

"You don't need to repeat yourself to him, Gurney. Your words have assured us enough that you hold no place alongside Modravé, or under the protectorship of the boy before you", Valentino take the time to inform him. The amusement decorating his handsome features only adds distress to the mocking tone of his voice.

Cove looks towards Modravé again, who is reaching behind him and pulls forwards a dagger. It was long, thin and had a emerald décor to it, with a ruby emblem above the grasp.

Modravé couldn't believe how, despite numerous threats and demands, someone still had the outrageous audacity to speak such disgust to a boy whom all that were beside Modravé, knew was untouchable.

Soon, whatever light Modravé had within in eyes had dimmed, and a glare so impenetrable dug deep into the face of the man who's own expression was laced with pure fear.

It all happened in a flash.

Cove was confused.

Did someone just splash water on him?

"O-oh my g-god", chokes out Cove. H-how is that possible? Why is there blood in his hands? WHY IS THERE BLOOD ON HIS FACE?!?

The sound of a body hitting the harsh floor breaks Cove out of his trance, and he can't believe what he sees. The gurgling body of the man was slumped over the floor, hot blood pouring like a river from the thick slit across his neck.

"MODRAVÉ !!! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!!??" Cove screams.

Modravé quickly leans his body forward and covers Cove's mouth with his huge hand. Cove struggles against his grip, his upper back rubbing uncomfortably against the arm of the chair.

"Silence!" His grits out. "Do we understand the predicament we're in? Any excess baggage will be disposed of .... Cove". Modravé's threatening eyes burn through Cove as be stares at him with wide eyes.

Modravé pulls away, leaving Cove in a frozen state of shock on the couch, unable to say a word.

Was Cove simply excess baggage to Modrave? Of course he was. Why is he here? Obviously for ransom... but he would need to be alive for that, right? Maybe Modravé is just blushing...

The brute kneels beside the now completely dead body. He reaches behind him and pulls out a fancy switch knife.

What he does next makes Cove gag in disgust.

He rips open the dead mans shirt before beginning to carve through the chest, carving M DCL. His initials.

"They're here", a man speaks, cutting through the silence.

Modravé then stands, staring at his handiwork with a twisted smile that manages to send shivers down Coves spine. Blood coats his hands and stains his shirt sleeves, it's also slightly sprayed his face due to the cutting of the organs.

"Let's go", Modravé speaks, walking over to Cove and taking his hand into his own. Cove tries to pull away because of the blood but Modravé squeezes tightly in slight warning to not test him right now.

Cove hates any type of bodily fluid, especially blood. And now it's all of him and he wants to faint.

It also astonishes Cove how Modravé was able to take a life so easily and without even thinking for a second. He just shot him, with this impeccable aim which must mean he's used to just shooting perfectly on command which is actually rather concerning.

"Your not afraid of heights are you?" Modravé asks as they exit the suite, walking through the hotels hallways and making their way up to the roof.

As Cove and Modravé walk up, men make their way down the stairs, guns cocked and ready to fire.

"No, not really. B-but I've never been in a helicopter before so I'm not sure".

Cove jumps when a gunshot goes off down the stairwell, followed by more gunshots and shouts of warnings and profanities. That's also when Modravé begins to pull Cove up quickly, basically running up the last set of stairs.

The gunshots are unbelievably loud and it's beginning to hurt Cove's ears.

They eventually get to a large black bolted door. Modravé lets go of Cove's hand and takes a few steps back. With a large kick, the door flies open and bangs against the brick wall.

Stood on the roof is a helicopter. Yet around it are men fighting and shooting. Modravé curses and looks over the rail, seeing men running up the stairs. For a moment Modravé thinks it's the intruders but he realises that it's Valentino and his back-up.

Once Valentino gets to him he passes Cove to him.

"Get him into the helicopter, se eu lhe der um apito, você sair sem mim." [when I give you a whistle, you leave without me]

Cove furrows his eyebrows in confusion, what did Modravé say? Valentino gives him a curt nod, knowing that this is all to ensure Cove's safety.

A hand is then pressed to the back of Cove's head pushing it down, and then their running towards the helicopter.

A few men try to shoot at them but are immediately shot down by Valentino. Once they get to the helicopter Cove sits down; he expects Modravé to follow in after but it's just Valentino.

"No! Where's Modravé?"

Valentino doesn't answer and for some reason it frightens Cove. Although Modravé has put him through endless amounts of torment, he makes him feel safe and he doesn't want to be too far away from him.

When he looks out he can see about ten of Modravé's men shooting at people trying to infiltrate. It's dark so he can't actually see too much but he does catch Modravé in the midst of it all, fighting like hell.

He's not shooting, but literally fighting them, and Cove must admit, Modravé has some serious skills.

Then a loud whistle sounds.

And then Valentino shuts the door.

Cove begins to panic, trying to stop Valentino. He calls for Modravé, yelling at the top of his voice. Valentino tries to pull him back but he's fighting against him.

They're leaving behind Modravé!

No, no, no!

This can't be happening.

"Please!" He yells.

Modravé turns around and catches sight of Cove calling his name behind the glass.

He sends him a wink.

"te vejo em breve, meu amor".