Some secrets aren't meant to be told.

Peyton, who had been pushed back was straightening her dress. Dante...or rather this other person was looking at her strangely. As though he were hungry and she was his meal. "Uhm, Could you not look at me like that?" She asked as politely as she could. What she wanted to do was yell at him and call him a pig but, there was something wrong she could tell, and yelling wasn't going to help the situation.


Biting her lip she held her hands linked in front of her, not sure what to do. Something was wrong, but she didn't know how to react. Peyton was so nervous that she bit a wound into her lip causing it to bleed.
 
Whata cutie. Poor girl, looked at odds with herself. He didn't know her, but maybe the Good Boy did. Blake scoffed and frowned. "Well, Jesus, don't eat a hole in your lip, kiddo," Blake laughed, holding out a hand for her to take. Not like she had much choice, though. "Name's Blake, you know my counterpart, probably. What I can say for him is that he has good tastes. Now that I'm here," Blake stretched and sighed, as if let out of a cage. "I'm afraid your boyfriend won't be here for a while." he confessed, putting on a charming smile and stepping over the beaten bodies of their attackers. "Let's go somewhere a bit let dirty, huh? Don't worry, Dante would kill himself if I hurt yah," Blake grinned a wolf's grin, not really intending to hurt the poor kid. She looked like an ice-queen, about to crack at any moment.
 
Peyton looked up at him, and automatically raised a hand to her lip feeling the warm wetness the cut had left. "Oh, Blake...so you are different..?" Peyton asked, not really wanting an answer. Quietly she stepped forward and took his hand, "We're not dating, kiddo," Peyton emphasized the last part and smirked. There was something about this new character that made Peyton want to be ornery. Peyton looked this Blake character over, though the same body, he walked differently, carried himself differently. This other side of Dante wasn't as fluid and smooth. She wasn't quite sure she liked it.
 
Blake shrugged, taking her hand and jerking her close to wrap an arm around her shoulder like they were jocks and cheerleaders. "Whatever you say. I'm very different from Dante. He's a child, weak, and he shoulders off a lot onto me. I'm really a good guy," Blake looked into her soft, and unnerved face. "Once you get to know that Dante is a loser. The best kind, no doubt. I can't complain since it was he who made me. I'm sort of like...the vigilante. I save people, hun, and I do it well! Did you see me back there, I was a bad assed mother-lover! Not a scratch on me!" Blake said, showing off like a proud lion. He hoped he could get this soft morsel home with him. Upon thinking this, a rage swelled in the back of his mind. Uh oh, Dante didn't like that thought...best be careful not to be mean and hurt poor Good Boy or his girlfriend, Blake thought with a smirk. Holding back it was, then.
 
Peyton looked up and over at him, and jerked herself free. What she did then was out of character, but satisfying nonetheless. She turned on him, and stomped down her foot as hard as she could muster onto his toes. "You're an imbecile," She said and folded her arms in her huff. Peyton knew that if Dante was still in there somewhere this Blake, wouldn't hurt her. Something about Blake got under her skin, and she couldn't help but react. "You just broke some mans arm, and you're boasting about it!? You could go to jail for that you know!" She was almost shouting, her disbelief washing over and taking control. "If you are trying to be impressive it isn't working!" with the she twisted on her heels and started back toward home.
 
Blake didn't mind the stomp, but her calling him an imbecile was a little bit beyond the breaking point. With a growl he grabbed her arm and jerked her back, almost lifting her from the ground. Geez, did Dante really like them so scrawny? Blake brought his face closer to his, staring her down and growling.


"Would you rather I let them gang rape you? I am very impressive, and I am frightening, child," he snarled. The term child was not demeaning, it was a warning. "I'd prefer if you didn't air my dirty laundry with that scream you have going on, yelling to the world about what I did for you was illegal. I could have let them, I don't even know you," Blake scowled. That wasn't true, in some places. Never would he let a group of assholes rape a little girl like her with Dante in the back of his mind. And he did know who she was, she made the shared heart between Dante and Blake pound. It may be his, or it may be Dante's but not much separated them. Blake relaxed his grip on the poor kid, but not letting her go, just cupping her bicep. "You'll be okay," he promised, most un-Blake of him.
 
Peyton gasped when he grabbed her, but didn't make to pull away. He was looming over her now and she felt smaller than she ever had before. Biting her already wounded lip she turned her head to the side and...coughed. Oh no, she thought, I've gotten to worked up Peyton then was frantically pulling herself from him, using her free arm to cover her mouth.


"Please, just leave me alone," She begged, not caring how pathetic she sounded. Not another attack in public, please! she begged herself. Still close to Blake, her head began spinning. No, no, NO! she was starting to panic and went to grab her purse from the bench. It had her medicine in it, though not a cure it helped stifle her attacks. "Please," She begged out loud, locking her eyes on Blake's.
 
She had run to the purse and had dug for something, turning to him and begging. But his face was harsh. "I can't. Somebody wants it otherwise," Blake confessed. He sighed and wished he could be not just a portion of Dante. She looked scared, and in her fear, a name came back to him from something their shared ears had heard, Peyton. Peyton looked scared, and the cough had started it. For some reason, even on the hot evening, Blake had chills. Something/someone screamed inside him and the idea of a cough was a terrible nightmare. "H-Hey, you alright?" Blake asked, coming up behind her to check. More shivers ran along his arms and caressed his skin. Had he hurt her? Damn, the Good Boy would kill for this...
 
Peyton's back was facing Blake now, and she gripped the bench with one hand. She was shaking and her knuckles were white. "I-i'm fine," She said, and down a few pills from an orange bottle. Taking a deep breath, Peyton gave one big and loud ribcage shattering cough. Pulling her hand back, blood was pooled into her palm.


The medicine was already taking effect and the shaking had become less violent. Calmly now, Peyton pulled a pink hankey that had once been white from her purse. She wiped her hand and made a mental note to wash it when she got back to her apartment. "I'm fine," She repeated more for her benefit than anything. When she looked back at Blake, her forehead had a few beads of sweat and her eyes were slightly glassy. Peyton swayed on her feet and sat down before she could fall.
 
Shit, she was a mess, and her lips were newly red as if she'd been slapped. Peyton slipped into the bench, and Blake groaned. "Jesus, Dante, always the damsels in distress! C'mon kid, we can't stay here, let's go to a coffee shop just down the street, get a coffee and we can have a heart-to-heart," Blake tried, knowing deep within him she needed help. Dante loved the helpless types, of course. But even this? She looked all weak and sick, like she was about to puke. Not waiting, Blake went to her side and lifted her by the waist, standing and hugging her to his side to almost drag her along. There wasn't time for this crap.
 
Peyton would have protested, but she didn't have the energy in her. They made it halfway down the street before she said anything, "I don't want to," She said, her voice small and soft. But, he just walked on, and she didn't try to protest any longer.


She began thinking as they walked, and wondered why it mattered anymore, if she lived or died. This pain and stress just didn't feel worth it, but with Dante, and even Blake-- she was finding-- she felt much better. Though Blake had made her irritated the affect that Dante had on her, so did Blake. Her heart still slammed in her chest, and she felt more sure of herself...


Shaking those thoughts away she pulled from Blake when they were almost at the coffee shop. "Can we not, please?" She asked looking up at him. Peyton wondered then, what had changed, why he had sounded so worried before. "You know, I'm dying," She whispered, "Dying girls do want coffee," Peyton attempted a joke.
 
Dying. Dying. She said she was dying. Red lips, coughing, weakness...of course. "Does...the other one know?" Blake asked, as if trying to hide it from Dante. Maybe he could, Blake thought. He kept her close but not crushing as he pushed open the door to the coffee shop and was hit by the scent of beans and warmth. Blake deposited Peyton into a seat and ordered just simple hot coffee with cream and sugar, two for them and he waited at the table for his order. "Spill it," Blake turned back on the anger, defensiveness. "I want to know everything there is to know. I promise, I won't tell," Blake made a dark joke. What was going on?!
 
Peyton winced at the bright lights, and when Blake demanded information she looked startled. "Well," She started, looking down at her hands that she had folded on top of the table. It was obvious talking about this was scary for her. She didn't want to die, but she didn't have a choice. Peyton was broke and couldn't afford to pay for the medical it took to cure it. "I have tuberculosis, meaning blood is slowly filling up my lungs," She said keeping her eyes locked in place. She didn't want to see his expression, or hear the strangled noise he made in his throat. Tears were stinging her eyes now, and she did her best to let her hair hide them. This was the first time she had really told someone what was happening to her, and it scared her beyond belief.
 
She was drowning, and nobody could save her. Blake gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Damn, Dante you were being led on. "Well, how long you got? A week, a year?" Blake hissed. She was leading on the counterpart to his own body. God knows that this would do to the already fractured mind of Dante. "Look here, pretty little tragedy," Blake whispered. "You have to let the poor bastard know. You'll kill him, and me! How fair is it that you get to lead him on that way, huh? That's one hell of a secret you have," he snapped, leaning away. Ouch. The idea even hurt him. Hardly anybody deserved a death this way. Especially a girl who hadn't ever done a wrong, by the looks of her.
 
Peyton looked up at him, tears now streaming down her face. "You think I asked for this?" She asked him, her voice stern but soft. "You think I wanted to hide it?" Her voice was shaking as well as her body. She couldn't remember the last time she actually cried over this, "I have to go day by day not knowing if I'm going to wake up the next morning," She admitted, "I didn't ask for Dante to come into my life, nor did he of me," Guilt was pouring through her now and it was breaking her heart. "I didn't mean...I just, I'm so sorry," She sobbed getting up from the table. She was out the door in a matter of moments and her feet pounding down the street. Her tiny frame was shaking from crying, and she felt a all too familiar tightness in her chest. If it hadn't been for her medicine she would have probably had another attack. Why did she think that someone would be accepting of her, after dropping a bombshell like that? How could she have been such an idiot? 
(Dude, I actually cried. HAH.)
 
Blake stormed after her, not letting her dare do this. Not knowing if she'd wake up in the morning? Then he couldn't let go of her tonight. Dante would die. "Peyton!" Blake called, running after her and catching her, using his arms to his advantage, and sweeping her up and cradling her back to his chest with his arms around her hips. "You can't keep doing that, kiddo," Blake sighed. "Just...tell him. I've never met him, a black hole will open up if I do, but honestly, I know he's a sucker for honesty!" Blake muttered, setting her down and huffing. "Don't run away again, Peyton." he warned, a little out of breath. Doesn't she get it? 
cried at what D=
 
Peyton tried to fight him, but fell into him instead. Tears were still falling down her face and as a warm night breeze blew through it tousled her hair and caused a few strands to stick to her tear stained face. "I-i'm afraid," She admitted, and twisted around in his grip so that she was facing him. Peyton didn't know why she did this, but she leaned into Blake and cried into his shirt, "I'm sorry," She murmured through her tears. When she got the brunt of her tears out she pulled herself free from his grip, "When can I tell him?" She asked while she wiped her eyes.


(Her life is just so sad... D:)
 
Ugh, tears. They always made him feel sheepish, and that was not him, that was Dante. Blake let her cry a little bit with a loose arm around her shoulder, pressing her face into his chest. She wiggled away and asked when she can tell Dante. Blake didn't like the idea of this. Did he have to leave so soon? But this was what was right, for the both of them. Please, please Dante, let me out some time. I like pretty girls, too. Blake quickly prayed, sighing. "Maybe tomorrow. I'll go home, take some sleeping meds and I won't wake up, Dante will. It's the relaxants. But," Blake put a single finger under her chin and smirked. "Don't be surprised if you see me again, kiddo. Besides, I'm the more handsome of the two," he joked. Without another word, Blake scribbled down his number and pressed it into her palm. "Call in the morning, and you can tell him. See you, kiddo," Blake nodded a little stiffly, trying to suppress his own fears. What if it was years before he saw light and kissed lips, shared coffee again with a girl? Blake was scared to not exist. He was real, just as real as Dante. Why couldn't he live, too?
 
Peyton took the number and put it in her purse, "I will," She said and before Blake had the chance to run off, Peyton stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. There was something that he seemed to be uneasy about. It must have been hard to exist in one body fighting to be at the front all the time.


After a long tight hug, Peyton let him go, "I would like to see you again, but hopefully you don't have to break any arms next time," She said laughing gently. "I'm sorry, about before," She told him, looking down at his feet, "I let my emotions get the best of me," She said and ran a hand through her hair awkwardly.
 
Blake stiffened, the smell of her warm skin almost too much for him not to bury his mouth in her neck. But she was apologizing, pitying, and he pulled away when she started to release him. "Don't worry about it, Dante let's that happen to, hence me." Blake smiled back, looking at her hair as she combed it quickly once through with her fingers. Blake boldly reached out to touch the ends, and he felt its softness. "Ask him where I come from, and tell him I said to answer. Maybe I'll see you soon, kiddo," Blake leaned forward and pecked her forehead, turning away sharply. He couldn't be so soft, he was the stronger one. Thinking about her skin, Blake knew of a good place to pick up a girlfriend for the night, maybe he'd take advantage of an almost wasted afternoon for Dante's sake...


He started to get a headache and left his lust behind, hurrying home to get to sleep instead.
 
Peyton watched him carefully, and he reached out to touch her hair. That made her smile in wonderment. He wasn't all bronze, there was a gentle side in there but, he kept it suppressed. Rolling her eyes at him internally she watched him walk off without another word.


-the next morning-


Peyton hadn't slept well at all that night, not only for fear of her life this time, but of speaking to Dante. Blake had been so angry when he heard about her fate, would Dante react the same? Certainly there were several things they shared, and hopefully a lot they didn't.


She wondered that night, how hard it must have been to keep an alter ego suppressed and wondered if Dante was in the same position, worried about how she was going to react to his...'secret' . That morning, Peyton curled her hair and pinned them to her head, and slipped on a short flowy white dress. Ironically she put on some red lipstick and looked herself over in the mirror. Peyton half smiled, her look reminded her of a fifties pin up girl.


Peyton had called the number that Blake had given her, but no one had answered because it was still rather early and whether it was Blake or Dante last night, they probably didn't have a very good one. She had told Dante to meet her back at the park, where he had left her before. But, would he come? Was Dante even back yet? Shaking the thoughts away, Peyton took some medicine to prevent an attack, and grabbed a book. The book read 'Hamlet' a story of death and woe. It didn't take her long to get to the park and she sat down, waiting thumbing through the pages, not really reading the words on them. 
Buuuump?
 
soooooo sorry I just started my rp)


Head hurts. So much light in room. Cotton in the mouth, ick. Dante came around and his memory was wibbly wobbly. Dante remembered the men with a gasp, a hand on his arm and....nothing. Nothing. Was Peyton ok? Had he been dragged home? Dante checked his knuckles and groaned; they were red and purple, and his body stung in places from a fight. No, Blake had wiggled through the bars and showed himself. Suddenly Dante got hot in the cheeks. Had he, or rather Blake, been lewd with her? His bed was empty, which was a great sign. The first time he woke up with a woman in his bed he almost passed back out, and thankfully it hasn't happened to him since.


This was about the same time he looked at his phone to check the time; God, so late? But there was a message from a strange number. Checking the mailbox, Dante felt his knees weaken, though he wasn't standing. She'd called him. Dante rushed to get ready and checked to make sure he looked decent, almost running out the door. The park, of course! But now another worry overtook him. What had Blake said? He'd managed to keep him locked up so long, so tight...what happened? What did Peyton know? Would she trust him now that she maybe thought that he was unstable?
 
Peyton sat on the bench, fidgeting with the pages of 'Hamlet' nervously. How was this conversation going to go? What would Dante say? Was he even going to come? Biting her lip, Peyton looked up scanning the people on the street. None of them were Dante, and she felt her heart sink.


Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, and brushed a loose curl from her eyes. Maybe Blake was still present so he wasnt going to come? She didn't know, but waiting here made her anxious. She'd been waiting for about an hour and he still handy come. A warm breeze blew through and her dress fluttered around her long legs.


Then, as she was brushing hair from her eyes again, she saw a familiar shape heading almost frantically down the street. It was Dante, and when she had to stop herself from running to him.
 
Almost at the sweating point, Dante jogged down the street and stared into the lush green of the park to try and find Peyton. Had he been too late? No, she stood there, at the bench they met at a week ago in a soft white dress and still fluttering hair. This made his heart skip, leap, stop, pound and break all at once. She was here, and she waited for him...


Dante wasted no time, sprinting and sweeping her into a hug and burying his face into her shoulder against the white dress. She smelled like warmth. "Thank God you're here, Peyton, I was so afraid. Have I made a fool of myself? Do you hate me?" Dante looked into her ocean blue eyes, still just thrilled she was here. But, her lips were red. Dante stiffened and stared, realizing she wasn't coughing and it was only lipstick. Get ahold of yourself idiot! "I--I have to tell you something about me you probably know, but I have to explain," Dante gushed. His mind was doing a happy dance and the rest of his body was tensed to run from her when she called him a monster.
 
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