Silver / |

Like father like son?

CW: internalized racism, perverted comments.

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Angello tossed and turned in bed. An odd taste in his mouth, his lips drier than they'd ever been before, no awareness of time or space, sleep marks all over him, and his black t-shirt had ridden up, moving all the way to his chest, and his silver shorts felt unbelievably tight. This only meant one thing, he had taken a nap.

He groaned and sat up, eyes quickly scanning the room to make sure all his belongings were still there, before he stretched his arms upwards in an attempt to relieve the inevitable backpain because of his sleeping position. He stared at the wall in front of him for a few moments, wondering how bad it'd be if he just laid back down and pretended he never woke up. Although that wasn't a good plan, because it gave Zachary room to blackmail Angello. He wanted to believe that was the case, that Zachary was a jerk just like his father, but the truth was, Zachary had been nothing but nice to him.

That could be a manipulation tactic, but Angello didn't think that. Still, it was engraved in his mind that people weren't nice for no reason, but in this case Zachary's reason to be nice was very clear.. he was scared of Angello. Well he had to be, even if he didn't show it, and even if he called Angello's eyes pretty an abnormal amount of times, he just had to be scared.

Then that brought the question, would that fear make him want to not harm Angello or would that fear give him a reason to harm Angello. Well he hadn't harmed him, and Angello had been sleeping like a cat for the past 4 days, so that had to mean something.

Angello quickly shook the thoughts of Zachary off, he was a jerk, just like his father, no matter what he did, it was all manipulation, as Rodrigo had taught him.

"Nice people don't exist and everyone's trying to hurt you except me"

That did sound.. dramatic, now that Angello thought about it, but Rodrigo had done everything out of love and nothing else, so he was right.

Angello swung his legs over the side of the bed, much quicker than he'd expected, so he fell off. But his hands quickly caught him so he wouldn't fall on his face. Now instead of his face hurting, his hands hurt because of how fast they had moved. He sometimes hated how his power worked, like it had a mind of its own that was much more developed than him. When he heard a loud sound - even if it hadn't scared him - his power would still cause him to jump back. It was built into his mind, even back when he was a child, when it wasn't very developed, it was still somehow developed.

He quickly got up and attempted to run a hand through his impossibly messy hair, and of course his hand got stuck, and it took him a few seconds to painfully untangle it. What was up with him today? Why was he acting so clumsy? Was it because of the sleep?

Of course it was the sleep, he had to go back to his sleep 5 hours per day, and drink 2 iced Americanos and 3 double espressos schedule, that was what truly worked for him.

He quickly flattened his shirt and pulled his shorts down before trotting towards the door and stepping out of the room. There, he was met by Zachary with a bunch of boxes - that seemed to be filled with food - on a table in front of him.

"Morning!" Zachary exclaimed while standing up, "I didn't wanna wake you up so you missed breakfast, but don't worry, I got you stuff." he motioned to the table.