Sweet Devil [BL]

"MISHA!"

The heart-wrenching scream reverberated throughout the forest. Upon hearing it, Misha felt like something shattered inside of him, but he couldn't tell what it was. He didn't have the luxury to ponder over the strange sensation that was lurking in the pit of his stomach. At the moment, he could only toss it at the back of his mind as the situation didn't allow him to think.

Although his mind was a mess, his body still reacted. The child instinctively stretched a hand toward the teenager, but it was too late. He had put too much distance between them, and his fingers only lightly touched Gabriel's fingertips. The two of them couldn't grab each other's hands, and Misha kept on falling backward.

Realizing that he wouldn't be able to reach him, the teenager gritted his teeth and decisively jumped toward the child, wrapping his arms around Misha. He pressed him against his c.h.e.s.t, trying to limit the damage the boy would receive by protecting him with his own body, which was sturdier than the child's.

When Gabriel caught the boy, he twisted his upper body in mid-air so Misha would be on top of him. This way, he would be the one to hit the ground first and take the brunt of the impact. As for Misha, he would land on his body, which should cushion his fall a little.

Everything happened in the span of a few seconds, and Misha couldn't keep up with the sudden turn of events. With Gabriel protecting his frail body, they rolled down the slope for what seemed to be an eternity, colliding with many rocks along the way. Their momentum only stopped when they crashed into a large boulder, and everything suddenly came to a halt.

Misha could hear his heart furiously beat in his head as if it was drumming on his temples. His limbs felt heavy, but he could tell that all his bones were still in one piece. He had broken them too often in his past life, so he knew quite well what kind of pain accompanied such an injury. Although his whole body hurt, it was bearable. In the end, he probably only had a few bruises and scratches. Maybe a sprain, but nothing serious.

Heaving a sigh of relief, the child tried to lift his head, only to realize that Gabriel held onto him too tightly. It made it hard to move. Feeling a bit annoyed, Misha grunted, "I told you not to touch me!"

However, he didn't receive any answer. Frowning, the boy slowly extricated himself from the teenager's arms while calling his name. Still, there was no reaction from Gabriel, which made his heart beat a bit faster. An ominous feeling slowly rose inside of him, and his breathing suddenly became laborious.

When Misha was finally able to take a step back and have a good look at the teenager, he couldn't help but let out a cry.

Gabriel had his eyes closed, but a large quantity of blood covered his forehead, making his hair stick to his dirty skin. There was a deep cut around one of his eyelids, and his glasses were nowhere in sight. His upper lip was also busted, and it looked like his nose was broken. In their fall, his head must have hit a rock very hard. If Misha's head wasn't wounded, it was only because the teenager had protected it with his hands, which were now bruised all over and swollen. A few fingers were probably broken.

No matter how much Misha wanted to delude himself, it was clear that Gabriel wasn't only resting his eyes. As he tried to calm down, the child stretched out his hands, gently shaking the teenager's shoulders while calling his name. He did so for a while, yet there was no response from Gabriel. His eyelids didn't even twitch. "Gaby, stop that, it's not fun. Come on, open your eyes."

His heart beat faster and faster, and Misha felt like he was on the verge of breaking down. He didn't know what to do, and in the end, he could only hit the teenage boy's c.h.e.s.t with his tiny hands, roaring, "I'm telling you to open your f*cking eyes! Don't play deaf, I know you aren't!"

Even after screaming at the top of his lungs, nothing changed. The teenager didn't move while his breathing was becoming weaker. Misha had to accept reality; Gabriel was severely hurt, and he needed immediate medical assistance.

"A phone. Yes, I need a phone," mumbled Misha with a trembling voice. He patted his pockets before remembering that he didn't own a cellphone at this age, making him curse a few times.

Quickly, the boy bent over and rummaged through the teenager's pockets, picking up his cellphone, which luckily didn't break in the fall. It didn't have a password, making it easy for Misha to navigate in it. At first, he thought of calling 911, but when he saw his mother's number, he changed his mind. It would be faster to call her as she was already in an ambulance that wasn't too far away from their location. She could explain the situation to the paramedics and ask them to come back.

After all, his sister's wound wasn't life-threatening, and she could wait, but he knew Gabriel didn't have this luxury. If his injuries weren't treated quickly, he was afraid he wouldn't last long.

The moment Misha heard his mother's voice, he felt the urge to cry.

"Gabriel? What's wrong?"

"Mom, it's me."

"Misha?"

"You need to come back right now."

"Sweetheart, I can't, I need to bring your sister to the hospital," replied Mrs. Brown, her voice carrying a bit of indulgence. "You–"

"Mom, you don't get it!" cried out Misha, interrupting her. "We fell down a slope, and Gabriel is not moving. His head is full of blood, and his body is bruised all over. He..." Misha took a deep breath, then resumed, "His breathing is getting weaker and weaker."

There was a second of silence before his mother replied with a helpless tone, "What are you saying? I know you don't mean harm, but you shouldn't joke about such things. Could you put Gabriel on the phone, please?"

Misha felt like someone poured a bucket of cold water on him. Even though he loved his mother dearly, he suddenly had the urge to slap her. Shedding all of his child-like pretenses, he yelled, "I'm joking!? As if I could joke about such a thing! I maybe love to prank people, but I would never do a phone prank call when my sister is hurt, and I certainly wouldn't joke about someone else's life. Gabriel needs immediate medical assistance, so tell the paramedics to turn back right now, or else, the next time you see him, it's going to be at his funeral. Understood?"

After his tirade, Misha was heavily panting, and his knuckles had turned white from holding the phone too tightly. His mother's answer came shortly afterward. She sounded stunned, but the boy could care less about her present emotional state. "I understand, we are coming back."

"Good. We're close to the chalet. I think a few meters to the right. Scream when you arrived, and I will scream in response to guide you. Just hurry up."

Before his mother could say anything more, he hung up and collapsed beside Gabriel. He whispered to comfort himself, "Everything is going to be fine. That bastard had lived past his thirties in our previous life, so he shouldn't die so soon, right?"

Biting his lips, Misha stared at the teenager's bloody face, waiting impatiently for the ambulance to arrive while paying attention to his breathing. He didn't know why, but the idea of him dying before his eyes shook him to the core. It was as if something was trying to tear him apart from inside-out. Although he hated him, although he wanted to get rid of him, he still couldn't stand to watch him die.

"Don't you dare die," murmured the boy, grabbing one of his hands before squeezing it. "Your life is mine to decide, and I don't want you to die today. It would be letting you off the hook too easily. So, live."

His lips were trembling, and he felt the tears slowly run down his cheeks.

___________

Author's note:

Author: Misha, if Gabriel had stopped breathing, would you have given him CPR?

MC: … Yeah, sure. I would have tried to break a few ribs while I was at it.

ML: You know, you're not heavy, and your arms are not strong. It will be a bit hard for you to break my ribs with CPR.

MC: I can always jump on your c.h.e.s.t. That should do it.

Liam: I'm not sure it can still be considered CPR if you do it this way.

MC: ??? Who the f*ck are you?

Liam: The MC of our author's new book, Courting Death [BL] ~

MC: And? What the hell are you doing here?

Liam: Advertising! Because my story needs some love too, I'm trying to steal some of your readers.

MC: Shameless!

Liam: Thank you. ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

MC: That wasn't a compliment!

MC: Scram! Go back to your own story! (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

Liam: Yessir! ♪～(´ε｀ )

The MLS of both stories decided not to bicker with the MCS for their own good.

Author: So, yeah! Because I'm a m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t, I decided to participle in the Spirity Awards Spring 2020, which means I have to write 120 000 words within 180 days if I want my story to be eligible. In short, I will upload quite a few chapters every week for Courting Death starting from May (right now, it's the end of the semester, so I cannot write as much as I would like). But don't worry, I won't forget about Sweet Devil! Starting from May, I will try to upload 2-3 chapters a week. Still, I would love it if you give Courting Death a chance and support it!