Open Your Heart

Chapter 2

He couldn't help but think of the three children he'd had with his wife. His dutiful eldest who was obedient, possibly to a fault. His precious princess who had never hesitated to take what she wanted, when she wanted; by force if necessary. And his failure, or at least what he'd always thought of as a failure. Nowadays, the media would consider his youngest to be the most successful, since he'd gained the most fame for the most unsightly things. Either way, they were still his children with Connie, they were still his blood and had been made out of love. "It must be nice." His attention was dragged back to Chardenay when the soft words reached his ears. Something in the tone rang of a sorrow that perhaps was misplaced.

"What?" The deathstalker scorpion looked back up at him from where he'd been toying with his drink.

"I'm sorry?"

"What must be nice?" The man looked a bit confused at first before he clearly realized he'd said the statement out loud.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just... It must be nice to have family so close to you. Knowing they're here and haven't been exterminated, or that they weren't stuffed away into purgatory. To have them somewhere you can still reach. I just think that must be such a nice thing to have." Henroin took a sip of his drink and mulled over the thought for a moment or two. He supposed it was, since he could still call up his eldest and chat if he wanted, or take his daughter out to dinner.

"Sure, it is nice. Well... most of it is nice." He could definitely do without seeing Tony's face plastered on billboards all over the Ring, or hearing about him on the news and in ads everywhere. It was a hellish reminder that his son had strayed far from the path he'd wanted for him. A path he swore he'd ensured for years that would have treated him well, instead of what he'd chosen for himself. A life that had eventually killed him.

"Only most? Do you find your children annoying?" There was a genuine curiosity in the man's voice that eased some small part of his soul inexplicably. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he was starting to feel more comfortable than he had in ages with a stranger.

"No, it's not that." He hesitated to continue, eyeing Chardenay carefully. The deathstalker wasn't doing anything, per say, he was simply sitting there. No secret abilities being pulled out, or sounds being made that weren't simple words. He was legitimately doing nothing but making small talk, but it was working like a charm. "One of my children is... not quite the right fit for the family, if you catch my drift." It didn't take long for the gleam of understanding to glisten in those platinum eyes.

"Ah, the black sheep. I know that feeling, though very much from the opposite side of it all." Char picked up his drink for another small sip. Opening his mouth to ask for some clarification, Henroin stopped himself as Rotsqou strode up with a skillful grace, loaded down with their plates of food. Once again, the deathstalker put on the perfect smile to charm their host as he started placing the plates in front of them. And it clearly worked, as Rotsqou kept his eyes glued to the deathstalker heatedly. Once everything was placed, he waited for the owner to leave, but he didn't. Instead, he continued to stare at Chardenay with a grin Henroin didn't recognize or enjoy. Clearing his throat, he watched the man jump as he got his attention.

"Ah, yes, well... just let me know if there's anything else you need. Anything at all." He watched Chardenay leaned against the table slightly and bat his eyes.

"Of course. We'll let you know, Rotsqou." There was a drop in his voice, and a shift in the tone that was more sultry than before. The aquatic demon smiled awkwardly before nodding several times as he stepped back. Watching the man stumble a bit before finally turning and heading toward the back of the restaurant, where the kitchen was located, he held in a sigh. The idea that one of his oldest acquaintances was so easily swayed had his back tensing a bit. Either that, or it was the idea that he was swayed by this particular person. Clearing his throat, he looked back at Chardenay, who had already turned to focus on their food in front of them. He was carefully placing his napkin in his lap while eyeing the large plate of pasta carbonara with unbridled hunger.