Through the Screen

Chapter 109

abel watches as noah curls further into the bed, liquid amber flushing his skin with a yellow glow, his

pale fingers gripping the covers tightly as he was gripping abel 's jumper just a few torturous minutes

ago. his dark hair has spread itself effortlessly across his forehead and his pink lips are parted just

slightly.

abel looks away.

the once shared closet still holds one too many of his shirts but he's lost the will to actually take away

anything from this household more than he already has. he's already drenched the place in silent Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

apathy and crushed the blithe sapphire of noah's eyes, contorting the shade into something that is far

too difficult to look at. he has engaged in the larceny of adrian's dimpled smile and the way his fawn

eyes were always shining with glee.

he can't bring himself to tear apart whatever that's left of this place.

so he makes his way outside, cowardly hoping that he can just leave without an explanation to his son

or his mother-in-law, cowardly hoping that he doesn't have to face the brutality of adrian's tears or

another pair of arms wrapping around his torso and asking him to stay. he's one tear away from

breaking completely, one plea away from ditching all the rationality he has forced in his disoriented

mind and just stay here and watch himself ruin what can't be ruined any further.

if he stays today, there is absolutely no scope for happiness for anyone in this family—he will never

escape the guilt, noah will never escape the callous betrayal and adrian will never escape the wicked

ignorance of his parents who are too caught up in themselves to pay attention to what he wants and

deserves. he collects every stone of self restraint and places it gingerly on his crippled heart, hoping for

absence of heartbreak once he walks out into the living room and attempts to memorise the pattern of

noah's papers strewn across the dining and the way noah's shoes can never be in place.

all his prayers go unanswered because as soon as he walks out he bumps into the child figure, quickly

stepping back and looking down to hide the moisture in his eyes.

"hey, where are you going?" adrian mumbles quietly, and once abel looks at him, he wants to do

anything and everything to reverse time, to tell himself to trust noah enough to not make the biggest

mistake of his life because nothing, no mistake can be equated to how his child looks right now.

adrian's eyes are rimmed red with sadness and his cheeks are sunken—the spirit of christmas tastes

like bile on abel 's tongue as he attempts to stop himself from sobbing.

he has never hated himself more than he hates himself in this very moment. nothing can compare to

the torture of watching such a young child—that too his own—break right in front of him.

"i-is nan asleep?" he swallows the acid under his tongue and watches as adrian sighs, nodding his

head.

"yeah, she fell asleep an hour ago," he hesitates before continuing. "did you and dad sort things out?"

and god if abel wouldn't give every piece of his soul if he could answer that question with a yes.

"not really," he bites his lower lip to stop himself from stammering. "i-i'm sorry adrian, your dad and i

have decided to take a break,"

"a-a what?" adrian can feel his chest tighten at the word. break. break, break, break. that's all he

remembers his first parents saying when he was five. break, break, break.

"i'm sorry baby, i'm so sorry," and somehow he feels selfish enough to not acknowledge his father's

tears, instead he just feels an unbearable heat of anger and betrayal in his chest, his throat

compressing the lump there painfully and he looks away, his small fingers turning into strained fists

next to his thighs.

"adrian, i'm so sorry, i promise i'll meet you every week, every day if you want to, but i need to leave.

you of all people have to understan—"

"i don't have to understand anything!" he screams, his hands pushing against abel 's torso with

everything he has. "all i wanted was a fucking family! how hard is it to not be selfish for once in your

goddamn life!" and he hates the searing tears that burn his cheeks, he hates everything from this point

on.

"adri, listen to me—" abel 's hands reach forward to comfort the small shaking figure but he's pushed

back again, the force of it hurts less than all the abhorrence that is filled in the action.

"fuck you! fuck all of you! why did you have to fuck up my family! it's all your fucking fault! i hate you, i

hate you, i hate you!" all the positivity, all the compassion, all the patience breaks like delicate china,

and the young teenager can't do anything but wipe angrily at his eyes and try to control his ragged

breathing.

"i'm sorry," and behind the choked tears of his father all he can hear is broken promises of a loving

family, all he can hear is fucked up relations and half hearted formal dinners where they ask each other

the same question again and again and again just in different words. he doesn't want to settle for

anything less than happiness, he doesn't want to settle for anything less than he was promised two

years ago in that dreaded orphanage.

"just leave like the selfish man you are! i don't even want to look at you! i hate you! i would be much

happier in that fucking orphanage than be here! i wish you never adopted me!" and he can barely hear

his grandma's hushed footsteps or the opening of his fathers' room because he has sunk down to the

floor on his knees and he doesn't know whether he's begging for time to turn back or all of this to

simply end. he can hear the racing of his heart behind his ears, he can hear every crack, every closed

wound that opens up bitterly and makes his chest hurt.

and soon there are arms wrapping around his shoulders and picking up his trembling body, the usually

comforting flowery scent of his grandmother's perfume just brings more tears to his already over-

flooding eyes and he's so unfamiliar with this pain that he doesn't understand what he's supposed to do

except blame the person causing it. he thrashed pathetically in the old woman's embrace, not wanting

the comfort because he feels so utterly betrayed right now—he doesn't want anybody's love or comfort

just for it to be taken away.

and when he calms himself enough to stand on his own feet, he pushes against his father one last time

and locks himself in his room—pressing his back against the door and closing his eyes, hoping that

tomorrow he can just wake up somewhere else, hoping that he is five again and he can do something

to stop his parents from fighting so he doesn't have to go through this.