Free Web NovelChapter 100: _Emotions Aren’t His Strong Suit
In the suite’s bedroom, Devon and Orion lay on one of the king-sized beds, the latter clinging tight to the former with his head resting on his chest.
Devon didn’t mind the intrusion of personal space, brushing his fingers through the boy’s blonde hair. "How are you feeling now, buddy?"
Orion sniffled although a smile slowly lit up his face. "Better. Thank you, papa."
"Don’t mention it, kiddo. I just want you to know your daddy didn’t mean to yell at you like that. He’s just..." his lips pursed for a beat. "... Tired."
"C–Can he come rest with us then? There’s enough space here."
Devon resisted the urge to chuckle, grinning instead. "I don’t mean that kind of ’tired’, little light."
He straightened his legs on the bed, head turning to the door for a second. Subconsciously hoping Ambrose would just walk in and try mending things with his kid.
But he was beginning to understand emotions weren’t the Guide’s strong suit. Fair—he felt the same way too before he met him.
"When I say ’tired’," Devon cleared his throat. "I mean he’s... overwhelmed. Mentally. Your daddy is getting involved with a lot of things that may not be suitable for someone of his power level."
The boy spaced out during most of that. Then, "... Huh?"
Devon sighed. "I basically mean you should be more patient, you little rascal. With him. And most especially... with us."
That seemed to capture his attention. "I am patient."
"I know that, sweetie," Devon wrapped the boy in his arms, pressing a kiss on his head. "But I also want you to know your daddy loves you. Even if he finds it hard to say or express."
Orion beamed. "When you guys bought me ice cream, was that a way of ’expressing’ that you love me?"
The Esper smacked his lips.
Close enough.
"Yep." he rubbed his back. "Now—daddy and I will have to go back for that meeting we attended earlier. You’re going to stay here and be the good little drop of sunlight that you are. Okay?"
Once Orion nodded, Devon gave him one last hug before hopping out of the bed. He adjusted his shirt and was about to leave when he recalled something.
"Orion?" He glanced over his shoulder. "Do you want to share why you called Viktor your... uncle? And how did you know his name?"
The question made Orion’s eyes flicker with hesitation. He pulled the bed sheets to himself, gaze faltering like he was considering whether he should speak or not.
Eventually, he muttered. "Because he is." A pause. "In the other time."
Devon’s brows snapped into a frown. "The other... what?"
"The... the other time," Orion’s face reddened. "Never mind."
When he turned away and faced the other side, Devon was tempted to rush to him and try getting him to speak. Open up for once.
There were so many inconsistencies with this boy. Ones you wouldn’t notice until you start connecting the dots. All the weird things he says like he was one hundred per cent certain.
But as always, he couldn’t force him to speak about any of that. With a defeated shrug, he walked to the bedroom door, stepping out into the living room.
"I’m done talking to him. You can stop avoiding us now." Devon said the second he spotted Ambrose standing close to the balcony glass doors.
The latter spun around with a frown. "Avoiding you? I’ve—"
"Just," Devon raised a hand, "go in and see him... please. And also, get dressed. It’s almost five pm and I do not want to walk into that conference hall late."
He said nothing else, strutting to a sofa and pulling out his phone as he sat. Ambrose blinked at him for a beat, giving in with a deep exhale.
Sluggishly, he moved himself to the bedroom, heart tight with anticipation. ’Relax, Ambrose. It’s only talking to a six-year-old. You aren’t about to read out your middle school report card to mom.’
With that, he pushed the door open, eyes wandering to the beds. On top of one of them lay Orion, his golden eyes half lidded but already locked on the entrance.
Like he’s been waiting for him.
The sight tugged at Ambrose’s heartstrings as he quietly closed the door behind him. "Hi, little guy."
There was a couple of seconds of silence before a small voice blurted back. "... Hi."
As Devon scrolled through his phone, he noticed some message notifications that came in thirty minutes ago. He arched a brow, clicking on them.
His eyes widened when he saw the name attached to them.
Han?
"What does he want now?" He scoffed, focused on the first message.
It read:
"How are you?"
Like he gave a rat ass.
Ignoring, he scrolled down, following the next text box:
"Did Ambrose follow you to the meeting at Vatican City?"
The dramatic way he cut each message was annoying but Devon still went on reading:
"I think there’s something you have to see. About him..."
In the same second, Ambrose had sat beside Orion, stretching a hand until he held those little fingers. "I’m sorry." He mumbled weakly. "I didn’t mean to lash out at you like that. You know that, right?"
Orion’s cheeks puffed. "I–I know, daddy." Confusion and concern were at the edges of his voice now. "But why? You’ve seemed so... stressed out about something since you came back."
His eyes glistened with a thoughtful light. "Did daddy get you an ice-cream flavour you hated?"
Ambrose found himself chuckling as he shook his head. "Trust me, little guy. There’s rarely an ice-cream flavour out there that I genuinely hate."
He angled his head to the wardrobe, pressing his lips together. An idea hit him just then. "Why don’t you come help me pick out an outfit for the meeting?"
Orion’s cheeks flushed as they hopped off the bed, basically skipping to the wardrobe.
In the living room, Devon’s fingers shook, his eyes unable to leave the video Han just sent him. It was CCTV footage. Taken yesterday.
First, Viktor waltzed into the lobby bathroom, holding a familiar red t-shirt and jeans. Then minutes later—Ambrose bolted out, looking frantically around like he had committed a crime.
Devon’s jaw clenched. "...What the hell am I looking at?"
