I..am so sorry.. there was such a gap...between updates. ;w; I've been tumblring so hard lately.. I'll try to take my laptop into work some to get some writing done! I promise, so in return you can have what I think is the best oneshot I did for this prompt challenge! Enjoy, thanks so much for reading!
Prompt Word #29: Family
Garry straightened his coat, wiping his sweaty palms on it before bringing his knuckle up to knock on the door. Anxiety got the better of him, and he drew it back, raking his fingers through his hair. Garry sighed, deciding he should just get this over with. Biting his lip, he gently tapped on the door three times.
His hands traveled into his pockets, waiting patiently for an answer. Garry lifted his fist up, ready to knock again, until he heard the turning of the knob. The door swung open, and a lady with ruby eyes greeted him.
'Ib's mother,' Garry mused to himself. He was certain she was Ib's mother. First of all, where else would Ib get those eyes and that hair? Second, he'd seen her before. In the gallery, when he and Ib first met. There was a portrait of her parents there.
"Ah, you must be Garry!" Ib's mother said in a cheery voice, stepping aside and gesturing him inside. "Come on in."
Garry was honestly surprised at how...accepting she was of him. He crossed the threshold to Ib's house and slipped his shoes off at the door. From there, Garry examined the expanse of the living room. Ib's house was actually pretty big. It might have been just because he lived in such a tiny apartment, but this place must have cost quite a bit. Garry even took a notice to Ib's mother's clothes, which were real fancy and formal.
Garry began feeling quite inferior being in her presence. Ib's family was definitely higher class. Higher than him at least. So it surprised him when Ib's mother gave him a warm and welcoming smile, taking his right hand in both of hers and shaking it.
"I'm Naeva," she said, leading him further into the living room. "It's so nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you from Ib."
"Oh, really?" Garry said quietly, a blush creeping to his face. Did she really talk about him that often?
Ib's mother—Naeva, Garry reminded himself—led him over to the black leather couch that put his slightly tattered, light blue couch to shame. She motioned for him to sit down, and even though he was a bit hesitant, Garry went ahead and took a seat. Naeva smiled at him.
"I'll go tell Ib you've arrived," she said turning around and heading off. She suddenly stopped, casting Garry a look over her shoulder, "do you want anything to drink? I made some lemonade, if you'd like."
Even though Garry loved lemon, and his throat was drier than a desert, he shook his head, "oh, that won't be necessary, Ma'am."
"You can call me Naeva, it's quite alright," she said. "And please, I insist. Just one glass?"
Garry blinked in surprise, then gave a defeated smile, "very well. Thank you so much... Naeva."
It felt so weird being so informal, but if Ib's mother was okay with it, then he didn't mind. It was still very strange to him, since it was Garry's nature to always be very polite. He let out a breath, sitting up as straight as his posture would allow, folding his hands in his lap as he patiently waited for the arrival of his friend. Garry was surprised at how well this was going. While he was very excited about reuniting with Ib, he had to get through her parents first. And Ib's mother already seemed to warm up to him. Such a relief.
"Garry!" His attention was drawn to the corridor that Ib's mother went down. At the end of the hall was a staircase, and at the foot of that staircase was Ib. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement as she ran down the hallway with her arms spread out slightly.
"I-Ib!" Garry felt his mouth involuntarily curve up into a smile, opening his arms up for her. Ib slammed into his body, nearly tackling him to the couch, wrapping her arms around his neck. Garry almost felt tears at his eyes. He knew he missed Ib, but it was now he realized just how much he missed her.
Garry's arms wrapped around the girl, patting her on the head and pulling her close. He was so happy right now. Absolutely nothing could ruin this moment.
The front door opened with a creak. Garry simply glanced over his shoulder, and watched as a tall, dark-haired man came into view. Instantly, the man's eyes went down to the strange man on his couch that was cradling a nine-year-old.
'Ib's father,' Garry thought. Just like with Ib's mother, he'd seen him before in the portrait in the Fabricated World. The look Ib's father gave him was a look of pure horror. Horror and concern. Garry felt his stomach churn. This didn't bode well.
"Hi, Papa!" Ib said, slackening her arms around Garry's neck. She looked up with her wide, maroon eyes and smiled. "How was work?"
"Ah.. it.. was.. you know," he responded, not taking his eyes off of Garry. Garry swallowed hard. "Um, Ib.. who.. is that man?"
"Why, that's Garry." The sound of Naeva's voice had everyone turning to look at her—though Garry could still feel Ib's father's gaze on him. "You know, Ib's little friend?"
"Oh.. right," he said quietly, and then muttered to himself—but Garry managed to hear it, "yeah.. little."
Apparently, Ib had neglected to tell her parents that her "little friend" was a grown man. Garry sighed, standing up from the couch and taking slow steps towards Ib's father. He tried to hide it, but Garry could very much see the glare in his eyes. Despite that, Garry stopped just arm's length from him—not wanting to risk Ib's father reaching out and grabbing him by the neck—and held out his hand.
"I'm Garry," he introduced himself, even though Ib's mother had already done so. He felt it was more formal. "Nice to meet you, Sir."
Ib's father stared at his outstretched hand, and then glanced back up at Garry, meeting his eyes. Then he looked back to his hand and took it in his own—but only for a split second. Then, with hardly any enthusiasm, his name escaped his lips, "Admon."
Garry committed the name to memory, but refused to ever use it. Ib's father clearly felt uneasy around him, so he would only refer to him as, 'sir,' to be on the safe side.
The atmosphere was still thick with an air of uneasiness even after Garry had resumed his spot on the couch next to Ib, with a cold glass of lemonade in his hands. He took small sips from it, trying not to make eye contact with Admon, but feeling his hot gaze on him. Garry set his glass on the table in front of him, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"So, Garry," Ib's father said, his tone was more acidic than the lemonade they drank, "how did you come to acquaint yourself with our daughter?"
'Oh, God,' Garry thought to himself, casting a glance to Ib's father. His eyes shifted about as they tried to make eye contact, and his palms began to sweat. Just what was he supposed to say? Oh, well, remember the Guertena art exhibit? Well, Ib and I were transported to a weird version of that and things tried to kill us, but we made it out okay.
"Papa, I told you already," Ib suddenly chimed in. Garry turned his head to look at his friend. She looked up at him and gave a subtle wink, "I wanted to know the names of the paintings and stuff, so I asked the closest person, which was Garry. He taught me a lot of things," Ib explained, slightly leaning against his arm. Garry's eyes widened with surprise.
"Yeah, that's right," Garry added in, giving Ib a smirk. He knew she was a smart girl, but that was brilliant. "Also.." A thought crossed his mind—Garry couldn't believe he forgot—and he dug into his coat pocket and pulled out Ib's lace handkerchief. "She loaned me this. I, uh, I was a bit careless, and I wanted to touch the rose sculpture. Heh, and I nicked my hand on one of the thorns."
Garry held out the handkerchief, giving Ib a bright smile. She smiled right back and took the fabric from his hands. "You remembered! Thank you Garry!"
"Hey, how could I break a promise to such a cute girl?" Garry patted her head out of instinct, and felt Ib's father mentally throw daggers at him. Perhaps a poor choice of words, but Garry couldn't lie. Ib was verycute. "And I'm still taking you out for macaroons."
Admon coughed very loudly at this. It seemed to make the air thick again. Garry felt his body tremble. His skin violently tingled, and he felt that it wasn't caused by the terrifying stare that Ib's father had given him. Garry reached into his pocket and pulled out his lighter and pack of cigarettes.
"If you would excuse me," Garry said, holding up the smoker's tools, "I'll just be outside."
"Take your time," Naeva said to him.
Garry made his way outside and slipped a cigarette between his lips. He flicked his zippo open, and his fingers trembled so much that his thumb couldn't give the wheel a good spin. It didn't help that the lighter was so old, it probably needed to be refilled. Garry spun the wheel a good five or six times, producing nothing but sparks. He groaned when no flame emerged.
The door suddenly opened, and Ib's father joined him outside, lighting up his own cigarette. The smoke from Admon's cigarette nearly made Garry's mouth water, and he tried to get his lighter to work again.
Suddenly, Ib's father held out his lighter, igniting it, and holding it out to Garry. Cautiously, Garry leaned his cigarette into the flame, savoring the taste of nicotine once it was finally lit.
"Thanks," Garry said, putting the cigarette in between his fingers.
Admon did not respond. And for the longest time, there was no talking between the two of them. They just stood side by side, smoking their cancer sticks. Garry was about halfway done with his when Ib's father finally spoke.
"Ib really seems fond of you," he simply said.
"Eheh," Garry laughed, nervously, taking a long drag from his cigarette. He exhaled the plume of smoke, and continued. "Well, I'm quite fond of Ib, if you don't mind me saying. She's real smart, and kind, too."
"We raised her well, I think."
"You did."
Another awkward silence passed. Garry finished his cigarette, snuffing it in the fancy ashtray just outside their door. Garry put his hand on the knob, ready to return inside, when Admon had gripped him by the arm. Hard.
"You two enjoy your macaroons. Have her home by 7:30," he said. Garry looked to Ib's father, and he was smiling. It was a forced smile, but a smile nonetheless.
"I will," Garry said, swallowing his stomach back in place. Admon still had a firm grip at his arm.
"I'll be keeping my eyes on you."
Garry sighed. While Ib's mother had taken quite a liking to him, Ib's father regarded him as a cradle-robbing pervert. Awesome.
The names for Ib's parents I also used in my fanfiction "Old Habits," and I explain their meaning there. Also, this is how I see Ib's parents... xD I don't know why.. Garry x Ib is Ib's mother's OTP. Haha. Well, then, I hope you enjoyed this next bit. It could've been it's own separate oneshot! I'll try not to be so lousy with my updates now. Take care everyone! I love you!