Words Don't Come Easy

Chapter 9: Downtime

November 2016

Syaoran's face was inches away from the bathroom mirror. It was the break of dawn and only the soft murmurs of children's cartoon shows could be heard throughout the hotel suite. With a steady hand, he gently dragged the razor down his jaw, removing the hair and foam that had been there.

Growing facial hair wasn't a regular habit for Syaoran and he most definitely didn't grow it out on purpose. It was often, as it was on this day, the result of many sleepless nights. Between his position at his company and taking care of Ryuu around the clock, he simply didn't have the time to take care of himself.

Today was an exception to that.

As requested, all his appointments had been cancelled to allow him to attend the excursion to the Tokyo museum. Syaoran had been there for various galas, auctions, and any event that sought the attention of someone with his status. An excursion had never fallen into any of those categories until today. Not only did he not know what to expect, but he was also completely unaware as to what to wear.

The silence that he loved descended upon him again. With each stroke, a new patch of clean skin appeared. It was therapeutic - almost relaxing.

That was until a loud crash rang through the apartment.

"Fuck," he grounded out through his teeth. A light stream of blood began to drip down his cheek and along his jaw. Syaoran dropped the razor onto the marble countertop and rushed over to rip a piece of toilet paper off the roll.

"Ryuu, was that you?" Syaoran yelled as he wiped the remaining shaving cream off his face with a wet cloth. The piece of toilet paper that he had placed on the cut was now sodden with blood.

"Ryuu?" he yelled again from the doorway to his en-suite. The cartoons that Ryuu had been watching still echoed down the hallway but there wasn't a word from the boy.

A frown washed over Syaoran's features. Sure, they didn't have the the best relationship and Syaoran wasn't expecting a 'dad of the year' award anytime soon but Ryuu had never been the child to ignore him outright. Especially if his name was called more than once - he knew better than that.

Syaoran threw the wet cloth into the basin and raced out of his room. He wasn't sure what he would find but he had an inkling feeling that something had gone wrong.

The carefully controlled mask that had regularly graced Syaoran's face morphed into one that barely contained the panic lurking behind his eyes.

"Ryuu," he said between clenched teeth. "Put those down and get back on the couch."

Orange juice was spread far and wide across the wooden floor. Tiny bits of glass flickered in the light and blended into the mass of liquid. Ryuu slowly placed the shards of glass that he was holding back onto the floor. With two careful steps, Ryuu was back onto the couch. Safe.

"Dad?" Ryuu's voice was hesitant and soft but it cut right through Syaoran's thoughts.

Syaoran ran his fingers through his now messy hair and squeezed the back of his neck.

"I'll get the uh– dustpan," he said. "Don't touch the glass."

Not a second was wasted when Syaoran left the room. He went directly to the kitchen and frantically began his search for the dustpan. Though, there was one small problem - he didn't know where the cleaning supplies were kept in his apartment. One of the perks of owning the hotel meant that he had people to clean for him.

He opened cabinet after cabinet and not a single dustpan or broom was in sight – he couldn't even find something as basic as a trash bag. A flurry of thoughts ran through his head until the realisation hit him. He had never bought cleaning supplies when he moved in all those years ago. There was no need for them since he rarely spent time here unless Eriol was out of town.