It was strange, thought the pale teenager with the chunk of blue hair as he followed the boy with skin the colour of a bad fake tan through the streets. They had just left the hospital. The pale boy had been quite ill due to some...unfortunate circumstances. He was just lucky fake tan boy had found him and taken him to a doctor.
The problem was, the pale boy, Pepinôt, had found himself recently left out on the streets. His parents had rejected him, and he had no friends to turn to. And he had been scared. He'd been frightened beyond belief because all he could think of was that he could die out on the streets. And now, as he followed the other boy around, he feared that all that had occurred that morning had simply delayed his suffering.
The boy who had helped him was large. Athletic. He had a shock of golden-blond hair and matching eyes, and he wore jeans and a plain white top. He was attractive, and big enough that Pepinôt only came up to his shoulders. Bigger than most boys their age by a long shot (but then, Pepinôt was smaller than average by a fair bit himself). Big enough to be intimidating. Especially when he wheeled round to fix the far smaller boy with a glare.
"What do you want?"
"I...I...um..."
"You're following me. Why are you following me?"
He hesitated, fidgeting, not sure how to respond. When his silence had dragged on enough, the tan boy figured he had two options. Try and get his stalker to talk or just walk on and leave him. In the end, he heaved a sigh and stepped closer.
"Where do you live? I can walk you home if you like." Perhaps stalker boy was lost, he mused. Or upset about something. He had been curled up round the back of the pizza shop, after all.
"I...don't really have anywhere..."
"You don't have anywhere to stay? Jeez...how old are you?"
"Fourteen..."
"You don't look fourteen. You look ten."
"You look eighteen."
"I'm sixteen."
"You don't look sixteen. You look almost grown up." It was the facial features. And the height. That had to be it. "Is your skin naturally that colour?"
The tan boy's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"
"Ah! I mean-"
"Is yours naturally that colour or are you still feeling queasy?"
"It's naturally...but you look good, don't get me wrong! Almost...golden." He felt his cheeks reddening. Pepinôt was not good at saying the right thing at the right time. He always made an idiot out of himself. Still, gold boy seemed placated with this answer.
"Thanks...my name's Henri, by the way."
"Pepinôt." He offered his hand and Henri took it in a firm grip.
"Stick with me, Pepinôt. I'll...well, we don't want you getting sick again. I'll manage to source you some medication. Diabetic, right? I'll help you figure something out."
"I can't stay with you then?"
Henri laughed. "We've only just met, pipsqueak. Plus, I'm not the nicest of guys...you don't want to share a place with me."
"If it has a roof, I'm happy!"
He laughed again. "You're so cute when you do that. Come on. I'll at least bring you to my place and we can work something out." He yawned, pausing to wipe his forehead against his sleeve, as though the sun were beating down on them relentlessly.
It was Autumn, and it wasn't warm. In fact, Pepinôt was shivering ever so slightly.
They walked on through the streets, Henri struggling to appear like a friendly and helpful person. He was getting agitated. How long had he been around this kid? A couple of hours at least, including finding him and the hospital. The younger boy was very quiet. Almost shy. But surprisingly cheerful for a homeless kid forced to trust a complete stranger. Henri himself was quiet, as what was there to say?
"What kind of music do you like?" Pepinôt suddenly asked, a smile on his face. Henri gave him a strange look and shrugged.
"Uh, music? Um...Blues, I suppose."
"I like metal!"
"Really?"
"Really."
"Looking at you, I'd say you'd be one for Classical music."
"That grates on my nerves."
"Fair enough. I'm not really one for metal or rock or whatever."
"I love it. I like Black Veil Brides best."
"They're American, right?"
"Yeah. I think so."
"Cool. You don't drink or smoke or take anything illegal, do you?"
Pepinôt froze, frowning. "No, no and no...why?"
"Why were you kicked out? You were kicked out, right? Oh god, you're not an orphan, are you? Because if you are, I'm sorry I said-"
"I was kicked out! Calm down." He laughed, shaking his head. "I...just wasn't what my parents wanted, I guess..."
Henri gazed at him for a moment, scrutinising him. "I get you. Me neither." He gestured loosely to a house up ahead. A big place.
"Do you live by yourself?"
"Yeah. I don't own the place, someone else pays for it, but I stay there. My friend is loaded. Anyway, that there, that's the place. You can't stay there long. It's...not very sanitary inside."
"It looks lovely."
"It was, before I got near it." They came to the front gate, and there were two people by the front door, both about Henri's age. One with long brown hair, blue eyes and wearing a blue tracksuit, leaning against the wall and flicking through his phone. The other with short black hair, grey eyes and glasses, wearing a canary yellow suit and sat slumped against the door. They looked up as Henri and Pepinôt approached and immediately launched into a volley of shouts.
"Where have you been?"
"We've been waiting for hours!"
"You didn't say you were going to be out!"
"It's so cold out and you were meant to meet us for breakfast!"
"Henri, we were waiting!"
"People have been staring at us like we're beggars or thieves!"
"This is why you're supposed to carry your phone with you."
"I have had enough of dirty looks for today and all."
"And I mean charged this time!"
Henri held up his hands. "Millard, Christophe, please! I was at the hospital. And I swear I just went for a quick walk because I couldn't sleep. I wasn't...I didn't mean to be out so long."
The long-haired boy helped the one in the suit up. "Hospital?" He asked, arching a disbelieving eyebrow. Pepinôt got the impression that Henri failed to join his friends punctually on a regular basis. The boy in the glasses gave Pepinôt a very cold look.
"I'm Pepinôt." He greeted with a wide smile. "I'm sorry I held your friend up. I was ill. It's good to meet you."
"My name's Millard...Millard Bellemare. Pleasure."
"I'm Christophe." The long-haired boy interjected. "You've already met Henri, I see." He spoke in a much more cheerful tone than Millard. Millard spoke almost...monotonously.
"You feel better now though...?" Asked Millard.
"Yeah..."
"What was wrong?"
"Um...hypoglycaemia..."
"You're diabetic."
"Yeah..."
Henri grabbed Pepinôt by the arm. A firm grip. "I'm going to take him inside, get him settled. He's had a rough day. I'll be a little while. You guys go ahead."
"Honestly..." Christophe muttered, rolling his eyes. "Are you coming at all?"
"Rain check. I'll call you."
They walked off, grumbling all the way, and Henri led Pepinôt inside. The house wasn't that warm, and Henri hadn't bothered to clean up despite the fact that he'd been expecting company. The younger boy cared little about the mess. It was vastly different to the immaculate rooms at his parents' house. The older boy was quick to move a few things out of sight before Pepinôt could really clock them, and then they went upstairs, where Henri led the way to a bedroom. Again, the floor was cluttered, but the bed was large and plump, with fresh bedding. The fourteen-year-old hadn't realised how tired he was, but suddenly his body felt so...heavy. While his new friend pulled a laptop computer off a desk, he curled up on the bed (shoes still on).
Somewhere along the line, Pepinôt managed to convince Henri to let him stay. A mix of having nowhere to go, not knowing a lot of skills necessary to live on his own and the simple fact that they both fancied each other and had plenty in common. He also discovered some on Henri's less pleasant habits, and insisted on helping. It didn't work, and Henri insisted he didn't want help and could even get violent when Pepinôt insisted on 'helping' regardless. Still, it was nice, or at least that was what he felt.
((I have been doing some character development file things for some old superheroes and their children. Pepinôt is the son of two of the heroes from the team I was focusing on. I've never focused on his relationship with Henri properly before. All the characters in this are French and I know the scene with Christophe and Millard may have seemed a bit forced or out of place, but Christophe I can't remember very well as he was an insignificant character to begin with, and Millard is new and undeveloped. I no longer write on Deviantart due to the fact that I irritated the hell out of people there so...eh. Henri turns out to be quite abusive due to uncontrolled temper, but he often tries to tell Pepinôt to get the hell out of that relationship for his own safety and breaks up with him several times for that reason, buuut Pep keeps coming back because Henri 'needs his help'...and I have all these character files on store but unless requested I probably won't share them. I will, however, be writing another piece about Pepinôt and his best friend, Afton! Afton and Henri also have superpowers.))
