The War of Ares (manxman) (boxyboy)

Chapter Eleven - Garron was not an affectionate man

Koa

Someone was leaning over me, I realized. I could hear them breathing. Inhale exhale, inhale exhale. The sound was oddly comforting to me and for a moment, I allowed myself to bask in the sound. My eyes wouldn’t open. So I didn’t even try. Instead, I just allowed whatever was happening to happen. With the way I felt, I knew there was no point in trying to fight back. So if the person wanted to kill me, he could go ahead and do so.

But something in the back of my mind told me that wouldn’t happen.

I don’t know why, but the presence of the man felt familiar. Like I knew him somehow. I couldn’t place who it was, though. No matter how hard I tired. And I really did try. But the name just wouldn’t come to me.

“Koa, open your eyes.”

That voice. I knew that voice.

I groaned. Or at least I think I did. My head was throbbing and I had aches in places I never had them before. It felt like I had been beaten with a tree and thrown off a cliff before being stomped on. Literally. But then I remembered what had happened. I remembered falling, and waking up to Brogan and Quintus, and the worst part of all, going back to the day that destroyed my life forever.

I opened my eyes briefly. Just a small fraction. But enough to see Ari leaning over me, his face next to mine. He was so close I could almost taste him there. His breath brushed against my skin. His scent filled my nostrils; and for the first time in my life, I felt the regular beat of my heart change. And that’s when a memory hit me.

15 years ago.

“Mom, how do you know when you’re in love?” I asked casually. She looked up and smiled sweetly at me. Her eyes filling with emotions. I knew what was coming, so I edged closer to her and allowed her to pull me on to her lap.

She sighed. “Well, that’s a tricky one. There are so many different kinds of love.”

At that age, I didn’t really understand the difference, but I nodded along anyway. She seemed to sense it and her smile widened. When she smiled like that it made me happy because it meant, even if it was just for a little while, she was happy, too. I didn’t see her smile as much around father. But then, I thought, maybe that was just me.

“You know the way I love you and you love me?”

I nodded my understanding.

“Well… That kind of love is different from the kind of love your father and I shared. Neither is more important than the other, but they are very different kinds of love.”

I looked away, my eyes filling with tears as I did. I knew she would notice. And she did. She always noticed.

“What’s wrong, baby boy?”

I sniffled and a soft whimper fell from my lips before I could stop it. Once the sound was out, it was too late for me to stop and I cried all over her. She didn’t hesitate. My face was pulled into the crook of her neck and she started rubbing my back in slow, steady strokes. This was what she always did when I cried.

“Oh, baby boy. What’s wrong? You have nothing to cry about,” she whispered as she kissed the top of my head.

“He loves you,” I sobbed. “But he never loved me.”

She took my head in her hands and made me look at her. Her eyes were still as warm and kind as always, so I knew I hadn’t made her angry. “Your father loves you so much and you don’t even know it.”