𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

Everytime I try to focus on something I see this strange red circle, which is vaguely alarming. Hence the delay in the update and my works in general. Or maybe because I just woke up or something idk

Sorry for the month wait 🙏🙏🙏 this chapter isn't the best but regardless I hope you guys can comment along the way for motivation 💗

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PAST

MONTHS TURNED INTO YEARS and soon Y/n was sixteen.

"Get up," his mother hissed angrily, pulling at his arm. "We are leaving."

Y/n blinked his eyes in confusion. In front of him a luggage bag was open, clothes and miscellaneous items strewn about messily. Y/n couldn't recognise the state of his own home—somehow his mother had always kept it neat, but now it was ruined. There were pieces of broken furniture and wood lying about, a pile of dirtied shoes, along with broken vases.

Y/n started to panic.

"But—to where?" He finally managed to say, his voice drying. "Mother, where are we going? Where is Father?"

"Your father is dead,"  His mother spat, "I don't know where that man went."

His father...he left? He died? That couldn't be. Yet his mother couldn't be lying—today she was sober. On the extremely rare times where alcohol wasn't her friend, she would hug him loosely and tuck her head into his neck. Frequently she smelt of cigarettes and smoke, but there were moments where Y/n could remember a faint scene of vanilla perfume. Those days her temper would be soft and her nails wouldn't dig into his skin.

"What? Where..."

"Stop asking so many questions!" His mother eventually yelled at him, bringing down a harsh hand onto his head, making Y/n's face sting with pain as he dropped onto the floor. "Just do as I say. If I had my way, then..."

No. Andrei, Y/n thought, but I need Andrei. I promised him I would stay. I can't—

"No," Y/n started to shake his head and beg, "no, Mother. Let's not move. I have a friend...I have a friend here," he clutched at the fabric of his clothes and whimpered like a wounded dog, his voice beginning to crack. "Don't make me do this to him."

"Friend?" His mother scoffed. "Friend, you say?  You mean to say that the monster of the Ivanov family is your friend? Don't make me laugh now."

"He's not a monster," Y/n said quietly, not saying it too loud for fear his father would hit him again. "Andrei is my friend."

"And he is a monster in the making. All of a sudden his eye had managed to heal...and now he shows a tremendous skill to evade all assassinations targeted towards him so far—and not by pure luck, Y/n. Do you know how he managed to avoid it all? Tell me, Y/n. How did your dear friend do it?"