𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘭'𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. The small, rough hands, that had gripped it through countless pages, it had finally been exhausted.
Architect /noun/
|ar·chi·tect|
: A person who designs bui...
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A slap echoed across the living room, and he felt the sharp stinging sensation spread on his cheek.
The room fell into an uneasy silence; no one dared to speak or intervene, all eyes fixed on the unfolding drama.
He lowered his head, cradling his stinging cheek. It was always like this in this household, a place where this kind of things were all too familiar.
No matter what he did, no matter what achievements he earned, disappointment always followed.
They never acknowledged his successes; instead, they fixated on his faults, magnifying every mistake and overshadowing his accomplishments.
"Ha.."
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small figure hovering near the door. Its presence was subtle, lingering in the shadows as if torn between remaining hidden and stepping into their squabble.
It was his younger brother.
In a sudden, chilling moment, his gaze hardened as he tuned out his mother's words. He didn't want him to witness this.
The air in the room seemed to grow colder, mirroring the cold tension that had enveloped their relationship.
"I apologize, Mother. I'll try my best to pull up my grades," he said, lowering his head and maintained his calm composure.
His mother clicked her tongue disapprovingly and walked away, unwilling to endure any further embarrassment from him.
With the absence of footsteps around him, he stood up with his posture straight.
He made his way silently to the stairs, each step deliberate and echoing faintly in the quiet house. Heading directly to his room upstairs, no thoughts came into his mind.
Just blank.
It couldn't be helped. There's nothing he could do since he failed his finals due to 'certain' circumstances beyond his control.
Just the other day, he had stood helplessly as those people destroyed his work. He watched in dismay as his blueprints were dirtied and crumpled on the ground, the fruit of his labor reduced to a mess of paper and smudges.
He was overwhelmed with emotions, unsure of what to feel.
In the end, he could only muster a weak smile, a faint attempt to mask his inner turmoil.
He had been shoved around, but thankfully, it hadn't escalated to a life-threatening beating. For that, he was grateful enough.
Those heterochromatic eyes followed his figure closely, their piercing gaze seemingly scrutinizing him in his most vulnerable moment.
