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“Give that back Roth!”
Jacob’s fingers knead at the air, trying to feel for the fabric that was his top hat. Roth crossed the line this time.
“Not until you tell me how you came in possession of a black eye my dear,” Roth answers, switching the top hat between hands, before collapsing the top hat to stuff inside his suit. All the while, Jacob’s hands are on his chest trying to get access.
“Jacob…”
“I told you, I was at a fighting ring and the bloke caught me off guard.”
At this point, Jacob tries to be threatening by grasping Roth’s collar, pulling him in close, so intimately, that he is afraid he might kiss Roth instead of giving the impression that he would like to punch him.
“You’re lying. I saw Topping this morning. He said you weren’t present.”
“Then he’s wrong. I was there! He must’ve forgotten. There were other fighters other than me y’know…”
Jacob licks his lips.
Don’t.
“He’d remember you. You aren’t like the other fighters. You can actually fight… and yet you come back so damaged by a man you can’t describe properly in a place the owner says you weren’t at. Your reasoning is flawed, my dear. You’re also bad at lying.”
Jacob scrunched up his mouth so that it looked wrinkled, puffing through his nose like a child that was denied cake. He pushed Roth away, already heading for the door to leave the premises without saying a word. He made sure to slam the door on his way out. Anger heightened further though when he heard it open almost immediately. He ceased walking.
“You can’t care that much for it then, if you’re content enough to leave it in my possession. It certainly would look better on your head though. All you have to do is tell me the truth…”
Roth’s voice is on him like liquid and Jacob wants to say so badly.
“It’s my business.” He does not even turn around to answer. “It’s not your concern.”
He almost gasps when he feels Roth’s hands settle on his shoulders possessively, dragging him back slightly so that Roth’s breath is on the back of his neck.
“It’s not your business to say it isn’t.”
“It’s not your business to steal.”
Roth wraps his arms around Jacob’s stomach.
“I didn’t steal anything… I am merely looking after it until you agree to my terms.”
“Blackmail,” Jacob scoffs.
“Indeed.”
Jacob lets out a heavy sigh. He gets his hands to unhook Roth’s fingers and continues on to head back to the train.
“We’ll be in touch,” he goes. Then he is gone.
Jacob curses at the rain on his way back to the train, which is taking an inconsiderable amount of time, being all the way in Lambeth. Thankfully, his hood keeps him partially dry.
He spots the train now, and he runs for it, seeking that warmth and the comfort of his own sofa. The only thing on his mind right now is a cup of tea.
His dreams are shattered however when he boards the train to unexpected circumstances. Evie and Henry are there, seemingly waiting for Jacob’s arrival to explain himself, because no doubt this must be Jacob’s doing. The train is decorated with withered flowers. In vases, or just settled on top of desks and chairs. Jacob loses his voice for a few seconds.
“What is this?” he asks.
Evie crosses her arms.
“We were hoping you might fill us in on this, but it doesn’t sound like you have any insight on this either.”
Jacob makes a face.
“Why would I? I don’t know anything about this.” He makes his way further into the train, taking in the view even more. “What does this mean?”
Henry joins him to stand at his side, followed by Evie.
“I’m not entirely sure, but it’s sure to mean something. Flowers have meanings, but I read that withered flowers can have meanings too,” he states, heading for a book on a shelf. “Look here, it says if you dream about dead flowers, it can mean that you’re thinking about parts of yourself that are no longer growing.” He turns the page. “And here, it says it can also mean that you may think yourself not beautiful anymore, as flowers represent beauty.”
“Well, it ain’t that one, because look at me,” Jacob laughs.
Evie can do nothing else but roll her eyes.
“Beauty isn’t just looks, Jacob, it may mean in one’s personality as well.
“Something me and Mr. Green agree you need work on,” Evie chides, smiling slightly.
Henry coughs.
“Cruel, dearest sister. And you Greenie, I expected better of you,” Jacob taunts.
“Well I- I mean to say is that people aren’t perfect. I mean you no disrespect Jacob when I say that there are things you can work on.”
Jacob nods slightly. “I suppose.”
Evie steps forward, picking up a Rosebay willowherb, examining it for clues.
“I don’t think the types of flowers symbolize anything, as each one means something different. It doesn’t feel like there was much thought in gathering up certain types, only that they’ve all died,” she comments.
Jacob watches her, then looks back to the flower in her hand. Henry’s words linger in his mind.
Parts of yourself that are no longer growing.
Think yourself not beautiful anymore.
Jacob pondered over the sentences, remembering the times he would receive lectures from Evie about him not learning from his mistakes.
Pride isn’t your way to success, Jacob.
Pride? Wait…
Give that back Roth!
It’s my business.
It’s not your concern.
“He didn’t…”
“What was that?” Evie questions.
Jacob looks at her in realization as to what has happened. He pushes past her to disembark the train.
“Jacob! Where are you going?” Evie scolds.
“Out. I’ll be back later.”
“Already? You just got back! And aren’t you going to help us clean this up?”
Jacob turns to her, his eyes and smile genuine.
“I will, I promise. Just let me leave.”
He waits for her approval, not that it would stop him anyway, but he has to leave now. Evie knows her brother when he is being serious.
“I understand.” She returns a smile, and watches his figure disappear. Her attention is brought back around when she feels Henry put a hand on her shoulder. She remains mostly unmoved.
“Do you trust your brother?”
Evie chuckles.
“Not particularly. He may be annoying at times, and doesn’t always take things seriously, but I can tell when things aren’t that way. Little brother still has a way to go, and I’m sure in time he’ll find his way.”
Henry smiles, nodding in agreement.
“Sounds like you have faith in your brother yet.”
The moment is ruined when Agnes calls after them.
“We need t’ clear this up now. Nigel jus’ boarded. He’s allergic.”
One less job for Jacob.
Jacob left the train seemingly content enough, but his face turns a one eighty the second he is out of sight. He is particularly annoyed if this is Roth’s doing, but also that he must make his way back to the Alhambra. Staying on the train was an option, but Jacob did not fancy being in anyone’s company but is own when he has this on his mind. Besides, Evie may have wanted to follow, and Jacob cannot risk her finding out about Roth, in regards to work, and otherwise.
He is at least thankful that the rain has ceased, but there is no telling when it could start up again. So unpredictable.
Jacob makes way for the Thamas, using his Rope Launcher to cross it with ease, and to save himself the risk of falling into cold water. The day did not need to get any worse.
Through the streets he ran, until he could see the tip of the Alhambra. So eager he is to see Roth again to have it out with him.
He did not even knock, bursting through the doors, his eyes immediately homing in on Roth, who is sitting comfortably in a chair, sipping a cup of tea. Roth looks up.
“Hello darling. Back already?” he taunts.
Jacob says nothing. He just walks towards the table and takes a seat opposite Roth.
“Fond of flowers are you?” he challenges.
Roth almost smirks.
“Why do you want to know? Thinking about getting me a bouquet? Oh, you’re a sweet one.”
Jacob feels the heat in his cheeks, particularly when he can feel Roth’s leg rubbing against his under the table. Jacob kicks it away.
“So it was you, wasn’t it. You sent someone to cover my train in dead flowers! And all because you wanted to teach me lesson. There are better ways to educate someone Roth.”
“Certainly.” He sets his cup down, resting his scarred cheek against his palm as he looks at Jacob. “But this seemed more fun, and a way to test you. So tell me, what did you learn?”
Jacob watches Roth with slight disdain, considering how he would answer.
“Did you know that Mr. Green is quite the expert when it comes to flowers? It’s the only way I would’ve known y'know.”
“I do indeed, otherwise we’d be having this conversation a week later, and God forbid I keep your top hat away from you for that long.”
“Oh yeah, my top hat. You bastard. Can I have it back now?”
Roth sits up, his hand now grasping Jacob’s with such softness that Jacob thinks he might die.
“Tell me.”
There is a pause.
“Alright… So I think you wanted me to rethink my actions, right? That I was too proud to tell you things, and… basically handled things like a child.” He puts his head down out of pure instinct, feeling that he has lost, when it is always about pride with Jacob. He feels Roth’s free hand now petting him on the head like a dog being rewarded for good behaviour, and he approved of the attention, even though he is still slightly annoyed.
“A valuable lesson, wouldn’t you say? You’re a delightful man my dear, but pride is an ugly thing sometimes, and I don’t want to see that in you. I want your honesty.”
Jacob realizes he had messed up, and he wants to put things right. He removes himself from his chair, circling the table to stand behind Roth’s chair, and pulls it away from the table.
Roth does not protest, and is intrigued to what Jacob is planning. There are no objections when he finds Jacob on his lap, barely able to process it when he feels Jacob’s lips on his. A most pleasing event, especially when Jacob is not usually the one to lead. He returns the kiss, gradually overpowering the Assassin, as he always would. And Jacob would let him.
The kissing ceases, yet intimacy lingers, noses now touching as they catch their breath and the freedom to have this unfinished talk that Jacob had returned for.
“So… the eye? Care to share your story?” Roth asks.
Jacob merely hums.
“Clara punched me.”