Fleur-de-lis

John 14:1

The picture above is John.

John's p.o.v.

Let not your heart be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.

Those were the words that the preacher had said the exact moment I was born. Given that, my mother found it appropriate to name me Johnathan Haniel Serafino. After which, I was immediately baptized. Now here I am eighteen years later; decent grades, in weight training, actively catholic...everything my parents hoped I'd be. Or at least they hoped that I wouldn't be a complete jackass...and I'm not...so, close enough. I wasn't exactly dating anyone because of my family's very Catholic views so I thought it was best to wait until I was out of high school.

"Hey son." My old man calls.

"Yeah?" I shout back.

"Can you help me set the table properly before Frank and his family get here?" "Your mother is still busy cooking."

I reluctantly get up from the couch and walk into the dining room to see my father meticulously setting the table. I sigh and smirk at his obsessive compulsive tendencies. He always wanted things perfect. I go around the table and pretend to reposition some of the plates and silverware just to make him feel like it was better now.

"Thank you." He smiles.

"No problem." Just before he goes off to straighten other random house hold objects, I catch his attention. "Hey dad?"

"Yes son?"

"Is Vanitas coming over too?"

"Well of course. Why wouldn't he?"

I groan a little. "I hate that guy."

"Hey!" My dad reprimands. "Hate is reserved for whores and gays." He corrects.

I sigh and resist the urge to roll my eyes.

[The course of true love never did run smooth -William Shakespeare]

Vanitas's p.o.v.

My entire immediate family was headed to Adam's house for dinner in my mom's enormous van. It could fit all eight of us in here without a problem. On a completely unrelated topic. God was I nervous about going to Adam's house because I knew John was going to be there. He and I didn't exactly get along...at least not anymore.

He and I used to be close as kids. I didn't have any older brothers and Azazel was always too preoccupied to even really be my little brother so I looked up to John as my older brother. But when I was twelve, John and I got into a literal fist fight and we've never seen eye to eye since. All I remember was that it was the beginning of seventh grade and John and I had gotten the same gym period that year which we both were excited about. But when we were in the locker rooms and changing and I kept noticing his gaze drift to me in my peripheral vision. He started to worry me so I poke him to ask what's wrong only to have him flip out and yell at me not to touch him. I grab his shoulder this time to ask what the hell his problem was only to get a punch to the face. By then, I was pissed. I punch him back and he takes exception to that... Pretty soon we both got into a fight, the school called our parents and we've avoided each other at all costs ever since. Part of me missed having my pseudo big brother around but the rest of me despised John's very existence.
Eventually, the van pulled into Adam's driveway. I take a deep breath and reinforced my mental barriers.