After around 20 minutes it felt like, Robert's Mustang was parked on his brilliantly green lawn. The rain must have had plenty of time to nourish it while he was gone. It was very beautifully contrasted against his simple brick house. I imagined a genius college professor to live in something a bit more fancy and out-there but this was your average, run-of-the-mill home. It was spacious, and beautiful, but overall simple.
"So this must be your place, right??" I ask.
The only response I got was a slightly anguished grunt and the dangling of his keys. He ushered me to follow him. I could tell he still wasn't huge on conversations with strangers.
I knew I made a promise not to breathe another word to him- but I didn't know he meant now. I was actually looking forward to talking to him, however, a promise was a promise. "I'm sorry....I'm done now. I'll just take care of your eye and not say another word. But I will tell you it's going to be awfully lonely....after all I don't see any other cars parked out here"
His nostrils flared but blue eyes gradually softened at my words, it surprised me. "I don't mind the lack of visitors. If I need anything right now it's time alone, not any pity"
I nodded meekly. "I understand, Professor...." I thought he should savor the company while he did have it. After someone is out of custody for serious crimes it isn't exactly the norm for them to receive a gaggle of concerned visitors.
Being the gentleman I knew he was deep down, the Professor opened the door for me. "Why thank you, Sir!"
"Make yourself comfortable I suppose." he told me a bit dryly as he drummed his fingers against the door. With his free hand he brushed the hair meeting his forehead from his face until it was a bit tousled at the top. I couldn't help but let my gaze focus as his silvery hair gleamed in the sunlight.
Once I snapped out of my dream-like trance I took the time to take in the atmosphere of his home. It was dark, surprisingly melancholy. I got a cold feeling inside as observed the details. Every nook and cranny of the living room seemed to be decorated with old pictures in dusty old frames. Some of them with his daughter-others with a tall, blue-eyed, eerily pale brunette. Judging by the faded wedding portrait on the far left-the woman must have been his wife at some point.
This was his family, a family who could apparently no longer be with him. I would assume he and his wife were not divorced given the amount of love put into the display, instead she had died a long time back. I couldn't help notice the photos with him and a young Abigail have a mother absent from them. It drew me to the possible conclusion his wife died during childbirth.
I wanted to bring up the subject but realized bringing it up would only cause tension.
"What are you looking at?" the now former Professor called out behind me. I idly pulled at my hair, tip-toeing around the subject. "Oh uh-nothing. You have a nice house is all....very home-y." I forced a toothy grin, swinging my arms nervously.
"I'll be on the couch-just go get the ice and medical supplies. If I remember correctly the first aid kit is in the cabinet below the sink in the bathroom. The ice is in the kitchen"
With watery eyes and a lump in my throat, I nodded before walking down the dark hallway. I used my brief moment of privacy as an opportunity to let out the tears I was holding in. I couldn't cry in front of him again. He likely only viewed me as a simpering fool. I just wanted to be his friend but this wasn't turning out the way that I'd hope. They say never meet your heroes, they might not be as kind as you built them up to be in your head, but what if they were a supervillain? Would one expect the opposite? A kind soul underneath the white mask and eerie glowing eyes?
