Author Games: Circle

Task Six | Males

3 // ELLIOT KROLL

"How much does your mother mean to you?"

I don't know anymore. "Everything."

"Really? You'd choose her over all else?"

I didn't. "In a heartbeat."

-

The dry, cool winds of late autumn blow through the streets, ruffling the sunset leaves adorning the nearly naked deciduous trees. Dorian's own hands have lost their color to the cold touch of the winds, fingers paling to a white similar to the one that'll cover the ground entirely in the coming months. He keeps his hands stuffed in his pockets, fingers curled in an attempt to keep the warmth in his palms.

Dorian walks at a fast pace, a slight bounce in each of his steps. The ends of his scarf dance in the wind, and his cheeks flush a dark shade of red—nearly scarlet—due to the cold. When the house comes into his view, his eyes light up, and there isn't the slightest bit of anxiety running through his veins. His fingers don't shake as he reaches for the door, and when he pulls it open, his face is aglow.

"Mom?" Dorian calls out, compassion laced into his tone. He undoes his scarf, tugging at a few loose threads as he looks towards the stairs that lead upstairs. "You there? Mom?"

A frown forms on his lips as he lowers himself to a knee to undo his laces, but just as his fingers brush the edges of his laces, he hears feet descending the stairs. He looks up, eyes taking in the sight of long, dark hair and a tall, feminine figure. "Hey Mom," he says with a smile.

Dorian's gaze meets his mother's then, and as he examines her red, puffy eyes, he realizes that she's been crying. Her mouth is twisted into a frown that stretches all the way to her tear-filled eyes, and she leans against the wall for support. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as he shoots to his feet. "What's wrong?" He moves towards her, arms outstretched to wrap around her thin frame, but she moves away, dodging his hug. A frown tugs at his lips as he continues, "Are you okay? Mom?"

There's a hint of a flinch in her face, and though it's hard to see, Dorian doesn't miss it. She steps towards the door, nodding at the car parked on the driveway.

"Let's go for a drive."

"A drive?" Dorian asks, biting into his lip as he moves towards the door she's just stepped through. "Mom, just tell me what's wrong."

She hurls around, eyes narrowing—though they're still extremely red—with emotions Dorian hasn't seen in them before. "Let's. Go. For. A. Drive."

Dorian looks down at his feet, trying to ignore the fact that each word is searing hot as it brushes past his heart. His words are barely as loud as a whisper as he replies submissively. "Okay."

It's not difficult to see her grit her teeth—it's almost as if she wants him to see her do it—and reply through them. "Great." She turns around, pulling open the car door with a hard tug.

"Wait." She turns her head to look at Dorian, and his gaze roams over her red eyes, flickering to her shaking hands which have a loose hold on the car keys. "Maybe I should drive?"

She stares at him for a moment, her eyes burning into his. Her frown deepens slightly before she turns back to the car and steps inside. "I'm driving." The car door slams closed.

Biting into his lip again, Dorian walks around the front of the car and sits down in the passenger's seat. He turns towards the driver's seat, eyebrows and shoulders raised. "I'm ready," he says, irritation clearly knitted into his tone.