[Under editing]
(Wrote this in my cringe writer era. Forgive me people)
The Italian mafia killed Vegas's parents when he was barely 15. His uncle managed to save him and his brother from the rival mafia and took them under his care.
Pete is an orph...
Pete never thought Vegas was the type to draw. Art is a hobby that calms human mind. Vegas is someone who is violent. It was surprising to Pete when he found out Vegas is into painting.
Pete doesn't come to this side of the mansion often so everything was a little unfamiliar to him. Mei's directions led him to a room that had a glass door. Opening the door, Pete let himself inside. His jaw dropped on the floor seeing all the paintings and art supplies.
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It was basically the wet dream of an artist. Blank canvases, various art supplies, paint brushes what wasn't there?
Pete was looking at the beautiful paintings with pure fascination. Vegas is ruthless but unquestionably a great artist. Pete would give him that.
Then he remembered why he came here. He spotted the photos on a wall and scurried to take them down. He took one off and put it on a table carefully. The door opened while he was taking the other one off .
"What the fuck are you doing here ?" Vegas's voice echoed in the room. Pete flinched turning around with the photo in his hand.
"A-aunt Mei told me to take them to the living room" Pete answered putting the photo of a woman, who he assumed was Vegas's mother, on the table beside the previous one. He didn't expect to run into the very man he bad mouthed just some time ago.
"And about the incident earlier I am very sorry. It wasn't my intention to hurt or disrespect you" Pete bowed asking for forgiveness. His conscience would poke him forever if he didn't.
"Get out" Was Vegas's curt reply.
"P-pardon ?" Pete straightened himself, staring confusedly at the taller.
"Didn't you hear me ? I said get out" Vegas said monotonously.
Pete's brain registered that he had fucked up big times. He shouldn't have said those things in the first place. He felt the need to properly apologize.
"I am really sorry for your loss, Mr. Vegas. I understand what you are going throu-" His line was cut short as Vegas strode towards him and grabbed his jaw in a painfully tight grip.
"Do you? What do you even understand ?! Do you know how it feels to lose your parents ?! To see them die infront of your eyes ?! You can't do anything but watch it happening powerlessly!!"
"You don't know how it feels to grow up without parents! Yet, here you are, pretending like you understand everything WHEN IN REALITY IT'S ALL JUST AN ACT!!" Vegas growled in anger pushing Pete away whose back hit the wall harshly.
"Agh!" Pete winced because his back came in contact with something like a bump on the wall.
"I'm just a monster. I don't feel anything. So stop this pathetic act of empathy before I lose my cool" Vegas's words were sharp like a blade. They stabbed Pete's soft heart as tears welled up in his round eyes.
"I-I am truly sorry. My own paren-"
"Out NOW !!" Vegas once again cut his words off. The venomous glare he sent Pete's way made the boy gasp in fear.
Pete gazed at him with a broken look then slowly walked out of the room with his head down. Vegas huffed in frustration and anger running his hand through his hair, messing it up in the action. He could feel heat coming off his body. His fist landed forcefully on the other table several times to relieve some of the anger.
When his ragged breathing started getting normal he looked up and spotted specks of red on the white wall where Pete had collided. He narrowed his eyes as he got closer. He pressed his fingertip on the nail which he uses to hand his paintings.
His fingertip gathered the red substance. It smelled like iron. It wasn't paint.
It was blood.
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My only wish is to become half as pretty as him :,-)
