#thread: unsteady

[capo-cedes]

Thread: Unsteady

[capo-cedes]

Unsteady

Involved: Mercedes D’onofrio, Nicholas D’onofrio, and Michael D’onofrio Location: D’onofrio’s Brownstone; New York City, New York Time Frame:- Notes: Nicholas and Mercedes are still at odds. 

Mercedes sat on the floor Indian style with Michael in her lap. She held a toy for him, watching it light up and play sounds that didn’t appease her but did him. Quietly she watched him as his hands banged against the toy loudly. Smiling, she pecked the top of his head lovingly adjusting him in his lap as she allowed him to continue to play. 

Nicholas excited his bedroom, torso bare, even his belt hung open as his long legs moved out of the bedroom, eyes scanning wildly. Red was not in their bed when he awoke. “Fucking pain killers.” He growled moving purposely towards Michael’s room. She'd not willingly come, a blind man could tell that much. What if she decided to leave? Pushing Michael’s bedroom door open, he inhaled sharply. “There you are?” He blurted out eyes fixed on the pair. 

“I love you” Mercedes said to the baby boy, “do you know that?” She asked him, it was a serious question she knew she could not receive an answer for. She just hoped one day he’d grasp how much she’d do for him. Even now. It was a miserable choice to make, to come along when heart told her not to. But two parents was better than one, she guessed. Licking her lips she looked at Nicholas as he opened the door, greeting her with a comment she didn’t want to respond to. So she looked back down at Michael, picking the toy he knocked out her hand back up. 

The silence drew out.  It was to be expected. Nicholas thought as he watched mother and son.  He straightened walking over to the pair. Squatting, he stroked Michaels hair back softly.  “Did you all have breakfast?” He asked his frigid wife.  

Mercedes continued to watch Michael “Michael did” she replied to him simply. Of course she fed the child a while ago, he was one that demanded nothing more than his food at the very least. “You should go eat,” she told him. 

Nicholas shook his head, of course she’d fed the baby.  Smiling at all the noise he was making, Michael’s fat fingers never stopped moving from place to place, light and sound working for his pleasure. He rose from the ground.  “I could eat.  I’ll go make us something.” He said moving for the door. 

Mercedes looked at Nicholas, “I could make you something” she said with an unreadable tone. “It is a wifely duty isn’t it” she questioned, more-so herself than anyone. She moved to stand up, hoisting the child up with her form. She handed him over to Samuel knowingly. Rubbing her hands down the front of her leggings she moved towards the kitchen. Bitterness was tiring and why hadn’t anyone taught her that lesson before now? Loving him was far easier than hating him truly. 

Nicholas' eyes narrowed but he schooled his face, taking his son in his arms.  “You can cook?” He asked skeptically.  He shook his head no.  There was something condescending in the way she said ‘wifely duties.’  “I can do it.  The cook hasn’t gotten back to New York yet.” 

Mercedes turned around to look at the man, her hands on her full hips. “I can do a lot of things you don’t acknowledge or don’t participate in” she said looking into his eyes. At his next comment she inhaled deeply and exhaled deeply. “Poisoning?” She commented “are you stupid?” She asked him, her brows stitching together. “If I wanted to kill your dumb ass I’d shoot you, with my son in your arms” she breathed, plainly. She rolled her eyes and said “give me Michael,” in a tone that read she wouldn’t repeat herself. 

“I figured you and Rebecca never had to step foot in a kitchen.” Nicholas clarified he moved around Mercedes, heading for the stairs.  “Who said anything about poisoning? You’d never poison me.  Not when a two shot to the gut would take longer to kill me.”  He acknowledged her tone, and turned back, giving her Michael. 

Mercedes' hands continued to rest on her hips until he handed her son back to her. She grabbed Michael and rested him on her hip ignoring Nicholas as she turned back around and moved back towards his room. She licked her lips, wiping the drool off his full lips as she bounced the baby. “Come on” she told Michael sweetly and she moved to sit back down on the ground. She sat the baby on the floor with her and placed some toy items in front of them both. 

Nicholas' nostrils flared the constant back and forth that needed to end. He pinched the bridge of his nose as she took the child and retreated back to his bedroom.  “Fuck..” He murmured, turning he bound down the stairs, wondering how long it would be before the woman left for good. In the kitchen Nicholas pulled open the fridge door, without thinking too much, he pulled out the fixings for a ham and cheese omelet, toast, and bacon.  It had been years since he'd actually cooked, but when he had he’d been decent at it. Laying the ingredients out, he rubbed his hands together and moved to collect the pans and bowls he’d need to pull everything together. 

Mercedes' brain was working in overdrive as she watched the baby play. How were she to get them both out of this place without him stopping her? And once she did that, where was she to go? How far was not far enough to get out of his grasp? And furthermore, when would she stop fighting her desire to give him papers to sign? Sighing softly, her bottom lip poked out as Michael smiled so unaware of the shitty life he was born into. It was so unfair Rebecca had been right, her marriage was desperately unsuccessful and she was not meant to be a mother. For a mother would hardly consider separating a child from his father. Even though she needed to for her sake. 

Nicholas took his time cracking and mixing the eggs, mind trying to decide how much of what he told the woman to get her home was a lie.  His mother’s words, “that I’m Donna at best.” He said whisky working feverishly. Buttering going into the pan, he tried to parcel out what he wanted.  No, he corrected what was right for the family.  His confusion was a tangled mess because at the core his pride such as ] had been hurt.  He knew that much was true, it was tainting every interaction he had with the woman. He sprinkled cheese then added ham to the omelet adding peppers and a bit of spinach as well. He removed the pan from the fire and slid the omelet onto a plate, before repeating the process quickly. Adding the breakfast to a tray, he moved up the stairs, arm wrapped around the tray to keep everything from falling.  “Okay,” He announced entering Michael's room. “Breakfast is ready.”

Mercedes shifted her weight, pulling her legs from beneath her and crossing them as she continued to watch the boy. She was pulled out of her own thoughts when Nicholas surfaced with breakfast “I’m not hungry” she said quietly to him, it wasn’t to spite him honestly she had no appetite lately. Licking her lips she sighed as she assisted Michael picking the triangle up and handing it to him, only to see him put it in his mouth and she shook her head.

Nicholas looked down at the tray cradled in his arms. “Of course you’re not.” He said, quietly sucking his teeth, he walked over to Michael’s dresser bending awkwardly to settle the tray. He took his own plate and moved to sit in the rocking chair across from where Michael and Red played.  He scowled, he cut into the omelet angrily. 

Mercedes looked at Nicholas and she looked away nonchalantly, “no, no” she told the boy grabbing the toy from his mouth. She sat the toy aside and she hoisted Michael up on his feet though he did nothing more than kick them. She allowed his fist to clutch around her fingers and she tried to walk him to her, chuckling quietly at the drool over face. “You aren’t ready” she told him playfully, it was cute to watch however. She wiped his mouth with his bib gently sitting him in her lap again as she grabbed another toy. 

Nicholas ate but didn’t taste anything. This, them, was a lost cause. His pride was too wounded, he’d graveled at her feet again. Just as he had when chasing her across the world, and for what. She never bent so why the fuck should he. He ate wrapped in silence the only noise coming from his ‘wife’ and Michael.  He laid his fork down, “I am going down to my office. You and Michael can join me if you like.” At least he was trying to extend another olive branch.

Michael’s only objective was to eat what he saw currently and she let him. When Nicholas spoke she looked up, pondering that. Hm. If he asked he must’ve wanted them to go. She obliged “okay” she said as she moved to stand up, bending over she lifted the heavy boy up in her arms with a grunt “you are getting heavy” she chuckled at him. “Do you know that?” she asked, bouncing him on her hip once more as she moved to walk out of the room. 

Nicholas drug his hand back through his hair. He stood, long body stretching out purposefully.  Hopelessness touched him, he was good at solving problems. Yet where Red was concerned, he failed every time. She told him just that. All of him. The fuck was that supposed to be. He couldn’t love her anymore than he already did. And being any more devoted made him feel weak. He threw his plate on top of her uneaten breakfast. Haphazardly, he lifted the tray with one hand, before moving out the room behind Mercedes.    

Mercedes’ watched Michael’s big eyes looking around him as they moved. He turned his head around and gazed at his father before he looked up at Mercedes’. She smirked despite Nicholas’ loud clashing of the plates. She moved for his office, switching Michael to her other hip gently and she moved into the room. Sitting down she stood the boy up in her lap, rubbing her tired eyes as she held him with one hand.