𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || Cillian Murphy ²

twenty-eight

"Dad, do I really have to do my maths?"

Cillian chuckled at his son, whose face was pressed tightly against the camera of Jenni's iPhone as they chatted. Cillian was lounging in his dressing room after a full day of re-shoots, exhaustion seeping into his bones as he put his feet up on the vanity across from him. He leaned back in his chair, holding the phone high in the air as he gazed at Charlie's small face in the rectangular screen.

He missed Charlie so much. And though FaceTime'd his son at least twice a week, it did nothing to dull continuous ache to be closer to him. At some point in his career, Cillian thought that being away would become easier to digest, more natural even. But that was his own naivety, because nothing would ever ease the pain of being separated from one's child.

"Yes, unfortunately you do have to do your work," Cillian replied and he forced a smile across his cheeks to hide the tug of emotions crossing through his mind.

"But you don't have to do it. Why should I?" His brow furrowed in concern, his dark locks tumbling across his forehead and into his lightly eyes. Charlie pushed it back hastily.

"You need a haircut," Cillian commented, "And you need to do your schoolwork. Someone in this family has to grow up right and get a proper job."

"Well, I'm gonna be an actor, just like you," Charlie remarked as he jutted his chin out proudly. It warmed Cillian's heart to know that, on some level, his son still looked up to him. In a few years that would change once puberty hit, but for now, Cillian cherished the moments as they came.

"That's just what we need," he heard Jenni mumble begrudgingly on the other side of the phone, "Alright, wrap it up. You've got to do your homework before you go to bed."

Cillian's heart sank, knowing his time with Charlie was drawing to a close. He would never have enough time with him, "I'll call you in a few days, yeah?" Cillian reassured, and Charlie nodded excitedly.

"Bye Dad!" he waved, before handing the phone back to Jenni and running off. Her face appeared in the screen, her black hair pushed back with a pale pink headband and eyes hard with indignation.

Jenni's face instantly annoyed him, and anger licked in the pit of his stomach. He had seen that face many times. It was one that meant she was about to say something that was going to piss him off, "We need to talk."

"About what?"

Jenni glanced off to her side, probably at Charlie who was no doubt sitting at the kitchen table with his head buried in a schoolbook. Jenni moved, taking a step into the living room so her words were out of earshot from their son.

"I'm coming to London in a few days — for Patrick's exhibit opening. I wanted to tell you so you aren't blindsided," Jenni said, her voice hushed as her forehead crinkled in concentration.

Cillian felt his eye twitch, "For what reason? Why do you need to be there?"

She sighed dramatically, as if Cillian's question was the weightiest thing she had ever been asked, "Because he wants me to come. Besides, you're not going to be there. But I know Auden is, and you're weird about her being alone with us."

"You're right, so I'm coming if you're going," Cillian replied quickly, his mind reeling, "I'm not about to let her enter the wolf's den by herself."

Jenni laughed humorously, "I forgot you are her great protector. I wonder what that's like, having a man dedicate his whole life to you."

Here we go, Cillian thought to himself. He forced his face to remain stone cold, knowing any emotional response would only fuel Jenni's ruthless nature. On the inside, however, rage boiled beneath. "I thought you were friends with Auden now. What's changed?"