THORN LOVE

Burning bridges

"The trouble is if you don't spend your life yourself, other people spend it for you." ― Peter Shaffer.

~

The moment Porsche descended the stairs, Edward's gut instinct told him that something was awry. Porsche was visibly upset, with a frown on his face. There was no "hello" or "good morning" as he plopped down on the dining table, his exhaustion evident in every movement. Yesterday, he saw Porsche animated and thrilled, but today, he appeared to be fuming with rage, making him question what had happened. Regardless, this wasn't an uncommon ordeal for him. Noticing his mood, Edward decided to withhold a greeting.

Just as Erica was about to greet Porsche, he gestured for her to stay put. Kinn arrived shortly after and greeted Erica and Edward.

Kinn couldn't help but feel concerned when he noticed Porsche pouring an alarming amount of sugar into his tea. Edward remained silent, not wanting to add to the already tense atmosphere.

"Babe...." Kinn started, and Porsche gave him a perplexing look.

"What!" Porsche yelled.

Erica was holding the plate of omelet, about to put it on the table when Porsche's sudden loud voice startled her, causing the plate slipped from her fingers and landed on the table with a faint thud.

"I'm sorry," Erica apologized.

Porsche remained unfazed as he stirred his tea aggressively, the clinking of the teaspoon against the porcelain cup echoing in the room.

"It's okay," Kinn assured, silently apologizing to Erica, who understood the gesture.

The tension at the table was palpable, and Edward felt out of place. He could sense his grandson's emotions and knew he was close to breaking point.

"Why's it so damn sweet" Porsche complained as he tasted the tea. He clumsily put down the teacup, causing it to spill and splatter hot tea onto his hand.

Quickly, Kinn stood up and poured water on the linen napkin, then placed the cold, wet napkin on Porsche's hand. He paid no attention to Porsche's objections and continued wiping his hand, holding onto it tightly. Porsche was fortunate enough to avoid getting burned, but he hurriedly retrieved a cold compress and applied it to Porsche's hand, but Porsche howled and pulled away.

"In case your memory is as messed up as mine, and you need a reminder, I'm not a child," Porsche snapped. He knew it was a cheap shot, but he was so mad at him.

Just then, a vivid memory came rushing back to him:

A hand knocking the food off the table and a voice saying, "I SAID STOP,"

His faces grimaced in pain as the hot coffee scalded his hand.

"I heard you didn't have breakfast. Can't you be civil for once?"

"I won't repeat myself, get out,"

"Don't get it twisted. Just because I tolerate your behavior doesn't mean I'll dance to your father's tune. Do not compel me to become your worst nightmare,"

Although his memory wasn't clear, he could still see the anger on his face.

Without a word, Kinn refilled his tea and offered him a flaky croissant on a plate. He poured him a glass of his favorite orange juice, which he always enjoyed in the morning, before returning to his seat.

The memory flash left Porsche feeling confused, but Kinn's actions made his anger boil over. He rose to his feet with a sudden burst of energy, the legs of his chair scraping across the floor.