Daily Writing Challenge Day 4 - Broken
Aerden stared at the familiar front door, inhaling and exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm his nerves. He had talked himself in and out of doing this multiple times over the course of the past couple weeks, but there was something about today that drew him to the front stoop of his childhood home.
He knew his mother’s husband was home, he had caught the occasional glimpse of the man ever since Pollux had sent him the text saying he was back in the city. There hadn’t been an incident in some time, and Aerden assumed that the man just completely forgot of his existence. That was for the best. But Aerden had questions and he wanted answers, so now here he was, standing on this stoop.
This was a terrible idea.
He rang the bell and took a step backwards, straightening his posture and attempting to look more confident. This probably wasn’t what anyone meant when they told him that he needed to have more confidence. There was a moment of panic where he thought that maybe he should just run away and forget about it all, last time he was here he left broken and bloodied. However, this would continue eating away at his conscience if he didn’t get answers, so he stood his ground.
Then, the door opened, and there he was: Aerden Lo’sharri Senior, or as he often went by, Varril, his middle name. Aerden could feel the blood drain from his face; this man had been such a huge part of his childhood, and it took the younger Aerden far too long to realize the extreme levels of manipulation and abuse that the elder had put him through. All he had wanted back then was to be loved and to make his ‘father’ proud. Now, he’s not entirely sure that either of those two things ever happened.
“To what do I owe the honor, son?” Varril seemed nonplussed by the entire situation, almost as if he had expected Aerden to show up at some point.
“I’m not your son…” The words were mumbled and quiet. The elder Lo’sharri was already getting under his skin.
“Speak up, kid”
“I am -not- your son.” Aerden spoke with a more forceful tone while doing his best to maintain eye contact.
Varril chortled, which only made Aerden even angrier, before stepping aside to allow him entrance into their home, no, Varril’s home. “Found out about your whore mother’s cripple then? What is Mister Hale and that pretty girlfriend of his up to these days hmm?”
Aerden’s face began turning a shade of red, the anger welling up inside of him was trying to brim over. The man was pushing his buttons on purpose, he knew this. It was something he had always done his entire life to just about everyone in it. Speaking poorly of his mother, letting on that he kept tabs on certain people; he was trying to get a reaction. Aerden ignored it and stepped inside, keeping his head held high.
This was a terrible idea.
The rush of memories once inside the familiar home didn’t help, and he immediately felt that pang of longing for his mum. “My father is doing great, thanks for asking.” He turned to face Varril and plastered on the fakest smile he could muster. Two could play this game.
Varril made some amused noise, although the shift in his demeanor was obvious: he was annoyed. These were dangerous waters to tread. He moved towards the bar, retrieving two glasses and a bottle of scotch to pour them both a drink, pushing one across the counter. There was no way Aerden was going to drink this, but he played the part and stepped up to the bar, wrapping his hand around the tumbler. The adrenaline rush had kicked in, but it didn’t stop his hands from shaking, nor could it stop that lump in his throat from forming.
“What do you want, Aerden? There’s nothing left in this house that belongs to you.”
Aerden dropped his hands down to wipe against the tops of his thighs, and so the older Lo’sharri couldn’t see them shaking. He turned his gaze downwards then wetted and parted his lips, but no words came out.
“Just spit it out, I don’t have all day to deal with your cowardice.”
This was a terrible idea.
Aerden raised his gaze, he needed to see the reaction. His fists balled at his side and his jaw clenched, “Did you kill my mum?”
Aerden Lo’sharri Senior wasn’t expecting that question and it showed all over his face and in his aura. That was the one of the benefits of being an empath, strong emotional reactions were nearly palpable. He didn’t need a spoken answer, and this is exactly why he wanted to do it face to face. Finally, the older man broke his silence, “You’re a foolish child with foolish notions.” He waved a hand dismissively.
There was no hard evidence, but that one look, that one reaction, was all Aerden needed to know that the man was guilty. Unfortunately this was the part of the plan where it got all fuzzy, because now what?
This was a terrible idea.
That question was promptly answered for him. There was a sudden, sharp pain in the back of his head, and then he blacked out.
@daily-writing-challenge Also @polluxhale @kharrisdawndancer @straightouttatheashes @twosidedsana @pyraelia @arandori @vixannya ((Since you all will probably hear about this IC later!))
