Chapter 90
Chapter 90
"tea?" adrian mumbles quietly as abel settles down onto one of the dining chairs, trying to control his
urge of clearing up noah's mess that's cluttering the dining table. abel nods, cheeks flushed and eyes
carrying bags of worry, and watches as adrian gives him an apologetic smile and disappears into the
kitchen.
he can hear the faint chatter of the television, and the low buzz of the centralised heating, and the
clinking of spoons in the kitchen from where he sits. he prefers this over the haunting silence of his
hotel room, loud traffic bustling in the streets below and the temperature remaining low no matter how
much abel turns up the heat. this apartment, however, is flushed with a certain warmth—along with cold
silences—but still comforting enough for abel to not feel like he is suffocating.
"it's not as good as you make it, but it's okay i suppose," adrian places the mug on the coaster and abel
smiles at him half heartedly, afraid that if he'll open his mouth he might choke on the sobs that he's
been holding back.
"are you okay?" adrian mumbles quietly, his small hands reaching abel 's shoulders comfortingly, and
abel physically can't hold it back anymore, breaking down pathetically as he holds onto adrian, his cries Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!
muffled by the soft material of adrian's jumper.
"it's okay, everything will be fine," adrian doesn't know if he's convincing himself at this point, or his
father who is trying to hold himself together in front of him. he has never witnessed his family being as
anguished as it is right this moment—three hearts, and all of them broken in different ways.
"it's not, i messed up," abel 's voice is barely above a whisper, words unstrung and sentences
unstructured and he sniffles pitifully into adrian's shoulder, pulling away and wiping his eyes with the
back of his sleeve. adrian only stares at him morosely, picking up the mug of tea from the coaster and
handing it to abel, who continued to sniffle, stretching his fingers around the warm glass.
"you finish this, i'll get you something to eat okay?" adrian's question sounded more like a statement
and abel shook his head in response.
"i'm not hungry,"
"please," adrian sighed. "don't do this,"
"but i really am not hungry," abel protested, highly skeptical as to whether he will be able to swallow
anything down in the presence of that giant lump of guilt in his throat.
"you will be in a few minutes," adrian ignored his plea, and began to make his way back to the kitchen
when abel stopped him again.
"wait! is—" abel gulped, his hold tightening around the girth of the cup. "is p-noah okay?"
"n-not really," adrian pursed his lips and walked away quickly, not wanting to hold a conversation about
whether anyone in this house is okay or not, because all of them knew the answer, and neither of them
were ready to accept it.
he made his way to the living room first, to ask if noah wanted anything as well, and when he walked in,
noah was sitting there with his knees close to his chest and his head buried in his arms, the movie
playing on the screen forgotten long ago.
"dad?" adrian mumbled cautiously, and noah hummed silently in response, keeping his head buried in
his arms.
"d-do you want something to eat? i was making papa—" he snapped his mouth shut as soon as the
word left the tip of his tongue. "i mean—"
"he's here?" noah lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and his eyes dull, and adrian bit his lip nervously
before answering.
"yeah,"
"is he okay?" noah looked away as the question escaped from between his chapped lips, his arms
tightening their hold around himself.
"um—" adrian wasn't expecting their conversation to go this way. "n-not really,"
"can you please go and sit with him for a while, he probably needs you right now," noah said softly,
pushing all his hair off his forehead and letting his eyes fall shut, his back slumping lethargically against
the backrest of the worn-out sofa.
"are you sure you'll be fine?" adrian asked one last time and noah opened his eyes for a moment
before letting out an exasperated sigh.
"i sure can't get worse,"