2) What fear is
Hours later, the whole mansion fell silent in its slumber, save for one person relentlessly draining bottle after bottle in a drunken frenzy. Soon enough, Xanxus ran out of booze, but drunk as he was, he didn't make much of a fuss about it. On the tray where the empty decanters stood was a ring, its single diamond glittering softly under the pale moon. Light scattered from its tiny facets, casting miniature pools of silver upon the obsidian tray. Xanxus picked it up, examining the seemingly endless circle—a promise from another lifetime. Another lifetime that seemed an eternity ago, where someone had usually fallen asleep on his desk or bed, fingers still lingering on the keys of an open laptop. He had taken it upon himself to wake her up, or at least shut the laptop. Fucking workaholic, he used to call her—then she'd roll her eyes and keep working anyway. Then he'd snatch the damn thing away from her; feisty as she was, she took it back, and the whole struggle ended up with them sprawled on his bed devoid of any clothing. In the middle of the night, she'd wake up, dress herself in whatever shirt she found on the floor and tiptoe to her son's room. Even in his sleep, he could hear the lullabies she sang to him…
Xanxus put the ring back on the tray and got up to leave the room. A piece of her still lingered in the mansion; living in the boy he called his son.
Angelo sat on the bed with his back against the headboard, examining a pearl necklace under the soft lamplight. As a child, he honestly believed that some of his mother's warmth still resided within the pristine white beads; that if he though hard enough, he could still feel her. It was his lucky charm, his safety blanket that never left the confines of his pocket. HE refused to let it go; after all, it was all he had of hers.
Suddenly, the door creaked open. Quickly, he snapped out of his trance and found himself staring at his father, those ever-glaring eyes boring into him. "You're supposed to be asleep", he said, leaning against the open door. Angelo shoved the necklace under the sheets, keeping his eyes on Xanxus all the while.
"Sorry, Papa", he mumbled, fluffing up his own pillow—something his mother used to do, but now the task fell to him.
"What the fuck are you apologizing for?" he growled, walking towards the four-poster bed and sat at its foot.
Angelo faced his death stare head on slightly intimidated, but he didn't have to know that. After all, how was he going to be the next leader if he can't even hold his ground in a mere stare down? A smirk tugged at Xanxus's lips. His feral eyes traveled to his bedside table, settling on his new book. "Levi gave that to you?" he asked, nodding towards it.
"Nope, but Uncle Lussuria did, though. Then Uncle Squalo read me a story—well, he would've, but then Uncle Bel cut in and improvised".
The scowl deepened. "What the fuck does that idiot prince know about stories anyway?" he said, taking the book from the table and started flipping through it. "Can't you read on your own?"
He crawled out from under the sheets and tapped the elegant manuscript. "I can't read cursive. Working on it, though".
The look he gave him bordered around amusement and annoyance. Nevertheless, he continued flipping through the book till he settled on a page. Angelo sat as close to him as he dared to, looking intently at the page where he stopped. "Papa?"
"Hm?" He hasn't taken his eyes off the title. The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was. Damn, that's a long-ass title.
"Are you going to read to me?"
He wanted to say, "What the fuck do you think I'm here for?" but considering that Angelo already had a colorful vocabulary thanks to his subordinates—namely, Squalo—he decided against it. "That's why I'm here, son", he said, trying to make it sound as natural as possible. The man has yet to discover that parental bone in his body.
Angelo scooted closer till they were only inches apart. Xanxus cleared his throat and began, improvising the rest of the way: "Once upon a time, there was this kid who told his dad he wanted to learn to shudder. So he goes to the village priest, right? When the kid learns how to ring the church bell, the priest sends him to ring it one midnight. Then, that dumbass priest comes after him dressed like a ghost, and the kid's all like, "What the—"
His gaze darted to Angelo, who smiled knowingly, willing for him to continue. Exhaling sharply, he went on, ignoring the blank he just left. "When the priest doesn't answer him, he pushes him down a flight of stairs and the priest walks away with a broken leg".
From the corner of her eye, Angelo was grinning.
"When his dad found out what he did, he kicks him out of the house. The boy still wants to learn how to shudder. Then he meets this guy, who tells him to spend the night under the gallows where seven men are still hanging from them. Even after that, he still didn't know how to shudder".
"Then he visits this haunted castle. Now, you watch all that horror crap, right?"
Angelo nodded. "Uncle Bel has a truckload of those things".
He scowled, knowing what kind of sick crap his Storm Guardian thrives in. "What do you do about nightmares, then?"
"Nothing. I rarely dream at all", the boy curled up into a ball, making himself seem smaller. "But when I do, it's always Mama's face I see".
He thought about that unfilled space ion his bed, that absence of someone else's heart beating next to him. Me, too, kid, he thought, thinking about those countless times at night when he thought she was there, then wake up disappointed. "Well, this haunted castle had just about every single sick little thing you can imagine living in it. The boy stayed there for 3 nights, and he still didn't know how to shudder. On the third night, an old man came in a led him to the basement to show him that he can knock an anvil into the ground—fucking showoff. The boy was pretty pissed by then, and he splits the anvil in half, trapping the old man's beard in it. Then he grabs an iron rod and beats the old coot senseless till he shows him all the treasure in the castle". Attaboy.
"The next morning, the king hears about the boy and asks him to marry his daughter. He still hasn't learned to shudder, and he complains about it all the damn time till his new wife gets sick of it. So one day, while he was asleep, she grabs a bucket filled with ice-cold water and dumps it on him. He wakes up shuddering for the first time in his pathetic life. Whoop-de-fucking-doo. Now he knows what it's like to shudder—but not to fear".
Xanxus closed the book and tossed it onto the bedside table, landing with a resounding thud. His son looked up at him, blue eyes wide with something like realization. "You should go to sleep now", he said, heading for the door to turn off the light.
His hand was on the switch when Angelo said, "You're kinda like him, you know?"
Xanxus looked back at him. "Like who?"
"That boy from the story", he answered simply. "You're not afraid of anything, Papa. Goodnight".
Xanxus left without another word. Under his pillow, Angelo clutched tightly at the pearl necklace. I'll be as fearless as he is one day, Mama. You'll see, he thought, drifting off to sleep.
"You're not afraid of anything, Papa".
He was lying alone on his bed, willing sleep to come. Enclosed in his fast was her wedding ring, its natural coolness dominated by the heat of his hand. What's there to be afraid of?
When the one thing you tried to keep from happening happens anyway, there's just rage—from not being able to stop it, to the fact that somewhere, someone blames you for it. It didn't matter how many people say, "It's wasn't your fault".
When you lose the one thing you fear of losing, there's really nothing left.
Okay, so semester exams are coming up....
....but since I feel like I've done wrong to all those of you who loyally read the crap I write,
then I guess it's only right to offer some compensation....XP
....so, yes, I will take suggestions.
ANY BROTHERS GRIMM STORY.
I'LL DO MY BEST TO GIVE LITTLE ANGELO A GREAT BEDTIME STORY!
oh, and if you want, you can request qho the lucky assassin-storyteller would be...
~Ta!