Abaddon (BoyxBoy)

τέσσερα: Call of the Gods

Present Day: London, April 2012

"Theo, your grammar is atrocious,"

Theodore grinned stiffly while his hands were clamped tightly together in an awkward fashion in his lap. He shivered strongly. James Harvey Matthew's office was arctic in its temperature. On the Irishman's fine mahogany desk was a miniscule, white fan that was outputting air on its highest level. Theodore thought of it as appropriate.

With a head of neatly combed dirty blonde hair, gray eyes, an overly serious deposition and hawkish face-James was known as an intimidating presence in the British publication industry. He was also one of Theodore's closest friends and occasional lover, from his naive college days. Theodore had assisted him in acquiring his business with some money he had received from his father's untimely demise. He had been newly fresh from his graduation from Birmingham when the mournful news reached his ears. He remembered the day clearly-an unwelcome stamp on the pleasant memories of his early graduate days.

-------

In the twilight years of the nineties, Theodore lived in a modest flat on a modest street in London. He weaved through his apartment like a man on a mission, his eyes darting about taking in his various things and trinkets. In the background on a metallic radio, was the soft melody of an old jazz song, known to only those who had memories of the decadent twenties. Outside in the streets of London, there was a light drizzle and the rain fell like pellets onto his transparent windows. Gray clouds moved about aimlessly in the heavens, pushed by an invisible wind.

Content with his inventory check, Theodore zipped up his burgundy suitcases and set them up against his living room table. A relieved and ecstatic smile now grew on his face, slicing it in half and flashing a bit of glowing handsomeness seen only by those not blind enough to see it. His once ancient histories professor had called upon some of his best students to join him on an archaeological dig on the boot molded country of Italy.

Although he had obtained his Bachelor's as a Greek History major, he couldn't resist the temptation. It was Rome after all, the once ancient empire spanning from Europe to Asia that suddenly collapsed without a sign. The phone began to ring solidly and Theodore's mouth went dry. It was his father. It had to be his father. No one else could be calling him at this time.

His father had been suffering from lung cancer for a while, a product of his life long love of cigars. Theodore visited him weekly and drove him to the hospital for treatments. However, as time went on the treatments no longer worked and he watched his father waste away silently until he was but a shell of the man he once was. Theodore had no mother, she had supposedly died when he was very young. His father had been all he had, it was them against the world. He couldn't lose him as well!

Still, the phone kept ringing with that dastardly cheerful ringtone until it stopped, giving him only seconds of relief before it started up again in earnest. Mechanically, he moved towards the phone, his feet dragging against the carpet every step of the way. He trembled as he piled up the phone, almost dropping it with his sweaty palms. The person on the other side was a female and had a breathy voice as if she had just run a marathon.

"I'm sorry Mr. Lowsley, but your father-"

The nurse went on and on, but Theodore had long since then closed his ears. After a few minutes, he hung up the phone and called his professor. He wouldn't be going on the trip. The next few weeks had been filled with funeral preparations. Theodore had held back his tears for as long as he could at the funeral itself then, in his car on the way back to his apartment, he sobbed and cried out to the man he had called father.

His father's lawyer met with him for his inheritance, several thousand pounds and an old fifties bottle opener. He didn't want the money, he wanted his father back. He clutched the bottle opener close to his heart. His father used to carry it around with him everywhere.