His Melody

Chapter 18 - Family Fairytales

Leonardo's POV:

"Just use that tiny fucking brain of yours and get the job done! Don't even try to contact me again tonight; for the last fucking time, I'm busy!" I instruct before abruptly ending the call and carelessly chucking my phone onto my office desk. Jesus christ. Sometimes, I swear, I only work with goddamn imbeciles.

Sighing, I rub my hands down my face and allow my eyes to hazily drift around the room on their own accord.
What a long ass day.
First, my Father finally decided to inform me that he is in actual fact fucking alive and breathing after an entire year of being MIA ... who am I kidding, that old bastard is never going to die...and now these incompetent idiots of which I made the stupid decision to employ can't get a damn thing right.

Breathing in from my nose and exhaling slowly from my mouth I attempt to calm myself down as I find myself becoming more agitated by the second. I imagine my Melody whispering sweet nothings into my ears whilst she holds me in her warm embrace: her arms wound tightly around me and her hands not quite meeting behind my back. I imagine leaning down to smell her hair.
Roses.
Red roses to be exact. The beautiful ones that were made to be admired.
The prize flower - the garden's treasure. The Snow White of flowers.

God, even her scent is intoxicating.

Tiredly, I amble towards the wooden cabinet that sits gathering dust on the wall before grabbing the familiar bottle of bourbon and pouring myself a tall glass.
Maybe this will help me relax.

Resting my bodyweight against the wall beside the cabinet, I hesitantly bring the cold glass towards my lips. I cringe slightly as I feel the burning liquid slither down my throat but sigh contently at the warmth it leaves behind.

The mocking tick of my office clock brings me out of my daze and my jaw clenches in anger as reality quickly dawns upon me. I'm already drinking. My Father has yet to arrive and he has already driven me to alcohol.

Fucking bastard.

Before I can comprehend my movements I have already thrown the glass onto the wall opposite me as years of neglected resentment reappears inside me. When the sound of glass and brick colliding does not bring me the catharsis I need, I only become more irritated. Roughly, I hit the back of my head against the wall and make a mental note to clean up the glass before Melody has a chance to unintentionally injure herself; I know how clumsy she can be.

When the noise of the clock continues to taunt me I contemplate throwing another glass at it, however my eyes widen in horror as I realize the time. 11pm.
I've been in here for over an hour.
I've left Melody waiting for him alone for over an hour.

Without a second thought, I sprint out my office, not even bothering to close the door behind me before I rush towards the foyer. As I run I find myself hoping to find my girl still in there on her own; I picture her anxiously tapping her foot as she awaits his arrival.
My heart stutters when I find the foyer empty. Shit.

"Melody!" I call and move to the living room in a continued search for her. Empty. "Melody!" I repeat; louder this time as my voice becomes noticeably more panicked and more frustrated as fear of the unknown blossoms within me.

Suddenly, a small smash in the kitchen catches my attention. I find myself being able to breathe a little easier as my lungs become a little lighter. Melody. I know how clumsy she can be. Waltzing towards the kitchen, I throw the door open, expecting to find my girl guilty standing over a broken bowl or such however my body goes instantaneously rigid as I do not find my Melody but instead am left with him. My Father.

"Jesus fucking christ, boy. What are you doing going around screaming like that for? You made me drop my glass," he scowls with distaste. Yeah? Well you made me throw mine so I guess we're even.