Winged

Chapter 11

There had been several days since Timothee had his first meeting with little Apollo, which utterly failed, and he was kind of appalled by that. He was waking up every morning, staring at Evan as he left their home, going to little James, leaving Timothee alone with his thoughts.

"How are you, you little children hateable angel?" Evan came down from the stairs, all dressed up with a grin plastered on his face as he teased Timothee. Timothee just shot him a glare from where he was laying on the couch, frowning like a five-year-old.

"Do you really have to go? Like. Can't you just stay here today?" Timothee asked after a bit as Evan was bent over, by the door, tying the laces of his black Chuck Taylor's, his knotted hair carelessly falling over his head as he did so. Timothee watched him for a moment, he seemed like he hadn't slept all night but was somehow still energetic.

"Ah, Timmy, I knew you would love my company and crave it." Evan stood tall – well if he could be named that – grinning at the scrawny boy as Timothee just rolled his eyes, viciously avoiding eye contact afraid he would give his self away. Truth is, the hours Evan was away, were going by excruciatingly slow. From the moment he would step his foot out of the door till the moment he would come back, grinning, already telling him how his day went before he would even get fully inside the house. It was as though the moment Evan was leaving every day, was the moment time was deciding to play tricks on him, making him unable to think of anything else other than Evan's voice echoing through the door in a couple of hours. As many walks as he did, as much as he went through the bookcases, the weirdly many partitures, time was always slowly going by.

"Stop that. I don't." Timothee said and he was internally trying to convince himself too, because truth is, he would much rather spend his time with the dark-haired boy than having him leaving every moment, leaving him at his own. Thing is, when he was alone he had to always occupy himself with something so as though his thoughts would not fill with the negative emotions he had felt that night.

Oh, that night... It had been almost ten days since then. Timothee had found himself tucked under a blanket at the cozy pillow corner next to the bookcases, a pillow neatly under his head. This was one of the worst nights he had ever experienced. Though he felt something positive too. He felt as though his suffering was not a lonely one. That night when he had fallen asleep he could swear he was feeling a presence. Not in a weird creepy way. It was more like he was feeling it inside his heart. In some weird connection he hadn't paid any mind into. He didn't want to put his hands there.

"Well. Point is," Evan started saying, taking a cigarette, expertly placing the poisonous stick between his lips in a way that Timothee kind of... Liked? No, no. He despised the bloody smell of it. "I can't stay today. We've got our big match!"

"The one where two bunches of seven-year-olds will beat each other's asses on a field with mothers cheering because they think it looks amazing and fathers who think their son is the best bloody player in the world?" Timothee asked with a small frown, not wanting to be left alone again. Especially when the reason of Evan's leaving was not that important. Also, he hated those games. The parents there were always so passionate about the game. They were just there to have fun and parents were making it all so rival it would always piss Timothee off. Evan gave him a chuckle at that, turning to the mirror next to the door, fixing his hair a bit.

"It's important to James so it is to me too. And parents are not that bad, Timmy. I mean... They're just proud of their children is all. They act the way a parent should. It's nice, you know? Having them all cheering and whistling and being their children's number one fan. It's nice." Evan said, a smile on his lips as he said all that. Behind that smile there was something hiding. Something Timothee didn't quite get but wretched his insides only by the way it was reflecting on Evan's eyes.