Boots

Eight

"Matthieu! Where were you! You didn't text and I was worried." Francis fussed over Matthew the moment he entered the house.
"I was tired after the interview so I went for a few drinks with some friends."
"You...have friends??"
"Did you just roast your own child?"
"Non! I just...I just assumed you didn't have any because you don't talk about them."
Matthew rolled his eyes.
"Look, I'm sorry. I was just scared that you'd gotten hurt."
"It's fine. I'm sorry for not texting."
"So when you say drinks with friends..."
"I mean drinks with friends."
"But you stayed the night,"
"Yeah, so I wouldn't have to drive home drunk." Matthew had no intention of telling Francis about Gilbert. It was none of his business.
"Matthew, do you mind helping me move some things in the basement?" Arthur poked his head into the foyer, giving Matthew the perfect chance to escape.
"Yeah. No problem." He stepped away from Francis and followed his other parent down to where he kept his strange spell books.
"Your papa was pretty worried."
"I know. I'm sorry." Matthew said as he closed the door. "He probably kept you up..."
"All damn night."
"If it helps...He'll probably sleep like a baby tonight. He'll sleep in and you can drink your tea in peace for once."
"That sounds like heaven." Arthur smirked. "But also...don't do that again."
"I promise not to."
"Thanks."
"Hey...can I ask..." Matthew ran his fingers along the spine of one of the books. "Why are you so into this stuff?"
"It's interesting. Why aren't you into it anymore?"
"I grew up." Matthew shrugged. "What did you want me to move?"
"I didn't. I was just trying to get Francis to stop bothering you." Arthur admitted. "We're you implying that I'm childish...for liking all this stuff?"
"I dunno...I just...I figure that it's just a waste of time to have hobbies..."
Arthur sighed. "What happened to that little kid who played hockey every weekend? That was a hobby, wasn't it?"
"Yeah...when I was a kid..." Matthew brushed the dust from the book off on his pants. "Thanks for saving me from papa. I'm going to get back to work."
"Wait..." Arthur put his hand on Matthew's shoulder. "I'm worried about you. Both of us are."
"Why? I'm fine."
"It's just that...you're disappearing...if that makes sense."
"I just changed. I grew up. I can't be a little kid forever."
"But it's like your entire personality is gone. It's been getting worse. Is that really what you think being an adult is all about?"
"I don't want to talk aboot this." Matthew muttered. "See ya at dinner." He exited the room before Arthur could react anymore. He didn't want to hear all that bullshit. His dad just wanted him to go back to being his sweet innocent baby. That was probably the reason they adopted Peter and Michelle. They just wanted to keep the youth in their family after Matthew and Alfred started getting too old.
He snuck his way up to his room as quietly as he could, successfully avoiding Francis, who was playing with the kids in the living room.
He couldn't wait to get out of this place.
Living here was just too much.