♤SPRING SHIELD (MxM) ~fantasy~♤

Work at home

Elijah

Yesterday was a nightmare.
I've never,literally NEVER been so happy to called on a mission by Shane. I wanted to get out of their the moment she started to talk like that.
I couldn't just scream and say that were not dating because that would be embarrassing. This whole thing is embarrassing! I froze up when she asked questions now clips of me are practically everywhere.
Everytime someone looks at me I feel like I'm being judged for my nonexistent affair with Kristian White.
"Dad! I can I have a waffle?"Liam shouts before gulping down half a glass of orange juice and beating his fingers against the table to make a tune. The theme song of their favourite show as distorted as it is I can recognise it.
"Of course,"I say putting a warm waffle onto his plate and adding some berries. I'm glad they woke up late today,at least giving me some time to sleep in myself before getting up to make them breakfast,
"Dad? Are you okay,you seem sick."Oliver observes me before standing on his chair and placing his hand on my forehead. I chuckle and lean into him letting him do his thing,
"Hmm,tell me,do I have a fever,doctor?"
"No,I don't think so! But you seem tired,dad."
"Oh no,what can I do to fix it?"Once he lets go of me I pull my apron over my head and hang it on the wall,
"Get some more rest and you'll be fine by tomorrow."He says in a matter of fact tone,hands on his hips like a teacher,
"Alright then doc,I'll listen to you."I pick him up and lay him to sit on his chair so he can't get hurt by falling,"Eat your food,"I pat the top of his head and Liam talks with his mouth full. Again,
"Can I practice soccer today?"
"So long as you finish your homework after,Liam. And what did we say about talking with food in your mouth?"he puts his fork down and covers his lips with his palm,
"Sorry,Dad."
The door bell rings and I take the kitchen towel off my shoulder into my hand,"Who is it?"
"I need to open the door first to know that,buddy."I chuckle as I walk over and open the door. I already have an idea of who it is,"Kristian."I breath when he faces me. His eyes are wide and blinking,his hair not at all as stylized as how he does it in the office. He's in a hoodie with a bag and several papers pulled up to his chest,
"Lewis."he says it like a greeting but it's not sassy or energetic like normal. It's tired and pitiful,"Can I come in?"
"Sure. This way,"when the boys see Kristian they forget about breakfast and run towards his screaming his name. He gets down to their level with perfect timing and they hug like long lost friends.
Their giggling and exchanging whispers I can't hear. Soon Oliver runs over to me and throws his arms around my legs,"Thank you,Dad. Best weekend ever!"
"I'm sorry to tell you this but,Mr White is here for work. So he's mine,unfortunately."
"Dad... you can't do that."Liam whines with his eyebrows pressed together,
"I'm sorry but that how it is,life is full of disappointment."
"Dad!"they both scream distraught with the news. Kristian in a no hurry to defend me or back my claims. We exchange glares,
"Oh come on,I'll let you play before finishing any homework,how about it?"they exchange thoughtful glances before nodding,"I'll let you have him later,"they run to the back door and their laughter follows,
"Do you always look like a men's casual fashion mannequin? How many polo's can a guy own?"there he is. Just pretending to be a good guy in front of my children.
"We need to go set up on the back porch,so we can watch them."I ignore him and collect the equipment I'd already set out,"You look like a mess by the way,"I tell him in passing and he makes a sound,
"I didn't get much sleep last night..."I want to reply with a sullen,guilty 'neither did I' because I kept thinking about you and whether or not you were stupid enough to scroll through the Internet thinking that someone,somewhere will validate you. Agree that this is inhuman to treat people like characters in a movie.
That's what I went through as a teenager. What all avatars went through in a race to be the best but always be seen as the worst.
"Why's that?"I ask,keeping my reservations to myself,
"Just the interview stuff I guess..."Curse the dark Lord and his treacherous schemes,
"I hope you didn't look too much into it,their just shallow people."I explain hoping helplessly that he hasn't already taken their words to heart. They said some pretty terrible things about Kristian. Insults I don't even want to think about.
"No,I didn't."He says sitting on my cushioned lawn chair and putting his laptop on one of the small tables in front of both chairs.
They've always been two chairs here. Facing the enormous field of perfectly trimmed green grass,so perfect at time it's like a mirage. When my father was alive he'd sit here with my mother and talk about the complexity of the court and how the High Board of Ferrez pisses him off. I'd join them when I was young,sitting at my mother's feet.
When he passed and I less than gracefully ascended the throne,me and my mother sat here,reminiscing. Shamelessly clinging onto memories pasted. Then she left the house to me and my children,saying it wasn't fit for her to be here any longer.
And I was left all alone. Disdain for these chair grew,and I often wanted to get rid of them. But now,here today with a mellow blue sky and laughter of blissful children floating in the air,he sits in that seat.
No idea what it means to me. No idea how satisfied I am,a part of my unstoppable lonesome-ness dispersed.
I sit beside him,sitting in the chair for the first time in years. Gazing at the field from the raised porch,"It's beautiful here,"
"Hm- it's beauty is in passing to me after living here my whole life."
"I bet,"he laughs,his tired features fading slightly,
"You must never feel lonely with them around."Oh,you sweet summer,child.
"They can get pretty loud,if you believe me."
"If you ever get too tired call me so I can get my serotonin in,"he looks at them running,his eyes full of care and joy. Just to watch. Many people claim that my children are the cutest little things but once they spill a drink or chew with their mouth open they change their mind.
But Kristian loves them. Almost like I do,unconditionally,patiently and deeply. It's surreal almost,the connection they have.
"Have you seen the structure file?"I say looking at every corner for the file,he lifts his own pile but finds nothing. I grumble and push to my feet,"Let me go-"
"Let me! I'll go,"He says out of nowhere,getting up,
"You won't know where it is,Red."I say,shaking my head,
"I will,I'll know from the other time I was here,I was attentive."
"... fine I won't stop you. Take your phone with you in case you get lost,its in my drawing room the drawer second last drawer on the left."

_______________

Kristian

I got lost.
Only half lost though,I'm not too far off as I search the halls of the Lewis mansion.
This has to be it,I open the door and I think I found it! This is exactly how Oliver described it that day.
A large room with giant windows on three of the high walls. The ceiling probably stretches a good mile high,the walls are dark and grim,but in a hauntingly beautiful way. Etched with golden flowers traced into circular patterns it looks quite eye catching.
The room is full of canvas and exotic plants,none of which are green. Some of the canvas are empty,some have unfinished landscape scenes and some are hanged up finished.
I can tell almost instantly which of these are his. I know EXACTLY how he'd want to express himself artistically. The room feels like it's stopped in time,paint brushes lying delicately in swashes of paint.
Chairs pushed array,like the laboratory of a mad scientist. The telescope really adds to that. After admiring I scurry over to his desk,
What did he say? Left or right? It was definitely right. I open the second last drawer and start to rummage from the familiar file.
"Where is it?"I find something that looks like it's leather cover,pulling it out. I flip through the pages and it's not the file. It's his notebook. I should shut it  but it's just too novel.
It's full of coloured and none coloured quick sketches. One of the boys as toddlers sitting side by side. Another of his hand showcasing it's quick healing process. Animals. Landscapes. People. All of which have a date. It goes all the way back to two years.
Isn't that cool? Some even have parts of poems,making him seem a little more than just thoughtful but emo? I'm making fun of him later.
I laugh as I skim through. My smile never leaving.
Some them are recent events. All up until the night I spent here.
Because there's more than one. There's almost ten different drawings,each starting with a group of people. Me,his children and his mother. Then just me and the kids. Then... just me.
Growing closer and closer to my face until they become portraits. My fingers slow down as I try to make sure i'm not imagining what I'm seeing. Looking at some even twice.
No doubt that's me. Everything about me is shining,like I'm standing out. Like a star.
And it's scaring me.
All up until the last picture. It's of me again,in the oversized silk pajamas that he gave. Particularly zoomed on my collar bone. Each freckle. Each blemish. Each sliver of light that touched me in the night,shining down on my bare skin.
It's just a patch. A small patch of skin but it looks so... intimate. The only part of my head that's showing is my lips. Coloured to look pink and dewy,everything looks so soft. Like a dream.
I'm marvelling in this discovery when steps sound from the other side of the door. I scramble to put everything back in its place.
But will I be too late?