Being forced to move so many states away from all that he once knew, Nessa was nervous to tackle his new life. Fortunately, it didn't take long for Nessa to meet a plethora of unique individuals who welcomed him into their lives:
The optimist, the k...
He knew that he had done something wrong. He always seemed to. Nessa did not have to be Charm anymore, and yet he still reached his hand up to rest on Ian's cheek. He knew that Ian had fallen for him, just as so many other people had.
But Nessa did not love him in the same way. To continue to lead him on was cruel. It seemed that Ian understood.
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His skin felt like it was on fire, his mind running a million miles a second. Kiwi was pacing across the floor of his father's study, ranting about what had happened to the patient man that he loved so dearly. It was beyond embarrassing to have hit Ian like that, but if he kept it inside for too long, the anger would only fester further.
There were many times as a child where his father consoled him. He was kind and thoughtful, and loved his children more than he could ever love anything. He prioritized their health and safety above all else. Kiwi loved him unconditionally in return, and he never thought for a second that he should hate him. Not the way that he contemplated his love for his mother.
His father was watching him quietly, his reading glasses low on his nose and chestnut hair in disarray. His skin was as pale as the white walls, possibly even more so due to the stress wearing him down. Kiwi always thought that he resembled a spirit. Not the depressing kind that belonged to dead souls and broken people, but the kind that glowed ethereally and seemed to guide the lost towards the found.
And Kiwi was among the lost, his father always there to try to redirect him to the light. It worked sometimes, but not always. In the midst of Kiwi's angry speech, his dad finally cut him off.
"So it seems that it's truly just your mother that has angered you." He said, speaking tentatively. Even when he had words to say, he never spoke them aloud until he was certain that they were the right ones. Kiwi couldn't even comprehend such a level of patience. All he knew was that it wasn't something that he inherited.
"It's everything. Everything is so stupid." Kiwi huffed in response, puffing his cheeks out and crossing his arms like a child. He was so agitated that he thought if he were to sit down, his blood would boil within him and he would explode. He was sick with anger. "I just want to scream and break everything." That much was true. It was taking everything within him to not grab his dad's laptop and throw it as hard as he could against the wall.
"We all want to do that sometimes." Kiwi could not imagine his father yelling, let alone screaming or breaking things.
A scoff fell from his lips. "So what the fuck do you guys do instead? Why does it work for you and not me?" Tears had been staining his cheeks for hours ever since he stormed out of that cafeteria. They dried and tightened his skin, only to be replenished once he started thinking about everything again.
"Language, son." His dad scolded him, voice gentle and tone only slightly authoritative. He never had to be demanding, so he simply wasn't. "It works for me because my anger is not as white-hot as yours. You're a flame that burns itself out. You're also the hand that lights it infinitely many times."
