Red [A Karezi Fanfic]

Mindful

W||N okay, you have every right to ditch me. I said I'd be inactive, work is WEIRD. and I just feel bad for leaving this unfinished? my bad y'all don't have to forgive me, I'll just keep on making chapters till I can't.

"You're a coward!" Kendrick heard someone yell in spite as he marched upstairs. He ended up slamming his door, leaning against his door for a moment. What was he? A broody teen? He shouldn't be slamming doors and making a scene.

"You can always fix things." The older man took a deep breath, taking a seat in the side couch by his bed. It was a smooth leather one, near the window where he could see the calm neighbourhood outside, but today was not one of those days. Instead of pondering out the window, he sat there, head in his hands, breathing heavily.
"You're not real." The man says aloud, voice barely above a mutter. In a way does it sound weak, but the figure sitting on his drawer simply sighed.
"Then why do you keep hearing me? Seeing me?" He feels hands in his hair, tugging him closer. Normally would he flinch away in shock, but today he welcomed the touch.

Her voice was like honey, the slow burn of a sunset on a late afternoon when the last bit of daylight will dance across her face, making her look like an angel right there and then. So then why did her words feel like hail raining down on him? He vaguely remembers the days when they were young, lying down on his roof while staring at the constellations. They had their hands clasped, though Kendrick couldn't help but feel clammy. She didn't seem to care, instead listened to every ramble coming from him and remembering it on his next birthday when she gave him a novel about space and constellations. It was always like that, him talking and her listening. He wondered when he had gotten so quiet.

"I'm an awful father." The old man says through a breath, "He doesn't deserve this."

It was true. Kendrick knew the moment he saw the boy. Same hair, same eyes, same brooding look only amplified. The boy hadn't changed in the slightest since the last time he saw him, and the idea of that still made his stomach fall.

"You sent him out?" The man bellowed, trying his best to stay calm, but failing. He stared the woman down, her hands crossed and standing in the middle of the room. The air was thick and suffocating, cringing as his eyes fell upon Kankri, who sat at the dining table, staring at the placemat like it was his homework.

"Kankri, go upstairs, please." The boy quickly shot out of his seat, keepings his eyes glued to the ground. It almost seemed like he was relived to be excused. She wasn't having it.

"No, you sit back down." She snapped, eyes now burning into the boy as his widened. He dared to look up, flicking his gaze between his father and step mother, looking for answers. The man looked back at the woman like she was bile, he grit his teeth.

"Kankri, upstairs." Kendrick's eyes stayed on the woman, who now met his glare. Kankri took the moment to scurry to his room, trying his best to not make a sound, as though that would make him less of a target.

"Let me decide what my son should and shouldn't do." Her voice was like ice, or a knife slicing through the silence. She was still in her work clothes, hair disheveled. But despite that she almost looked sophisticated like always, her glare like pins and needles, stabbing at the man who looked back at her with just as much venom.

"He is not your son." He said simply, a fact, a statement. She almost looked taken aback. Her hands lifted off of her hips to hover in shock, her scowl only deepening. Kendrick didn't give her any time to retort back.

"They're my kids, Giselle was thei-"

"Oh Giselle this, Giselle that!" She threw her hands around suddenly like a madman, throwing up a storm. "She's dead Kendrick, accept it." Her hands were now at their sides, in fists. "You keep on focusing on people, just move on! She's better off without you! No wonder she died, she couldn't stand some guy like you." There was a bitter laugh at the end, her posture now slouched and her eyes unforgiving. The air was thick once again, and Kendrick felt something in him snap. A weak thread being cut, a button being pushed, a fire crackling. He had to control himself for a second.

"Out." The man said, his voice was hard as rock, matching the cruelty. The woman cocked a brow, muttering out a confident 'what?' like she owned the place. Kendrick's blood only boiled more.

"Get the hell out of my house, this is over." He wanted to pick up her purse and shoo her out, he wanted too pick up a chair and throw it. But instead he was stuck in place, staring over the top of her head with self-control, waiting. It was moments, possibly what felt like an hour before she scoffed, her heels clicking on the floor and the front door slamming shut. It was like a burden fell off his shoulders while simultaneously bringing him down further. The air was still suffocating.

He still couldn't breathe as he walked up to his room and sat by his window.

"She was right, Its better if I just wasn't in his life." Kendrick Vantas looked out the window in discomfort. He was an awful person, he was an awful dad, and an awful husband. Yet the hands in his hair only calmed him.

"You're wrong. He needs you, he spent so long without you in his life. Fix your mistakes or you'll only make more." He leans at the touch, staring out at a quiet neighborhood.

"And if I make even more mistakes?" The sky is a blue hue, the clouds simply like paint scraped against the canvas. The weather would be great for a walk, but why was he thinking of that now? A small kiss on his temple dismisses the thought.

"Then fix it. Don't give up, or he will too." Her voice was smooth, vibrating through his head like a heartbeat back when he was only a young soul laying down with a small child wrapped in a little grey blanket.

"Tell me why I listen to advice from someone who isn't here?" The man ponders aloud, his voice soft. There is only a pleasant hum from the one beside him.

"I'll tell you only when you tell me why you listen to the advice anyway." Giselle simply lets out a small laugh, her voice riddled with amusement. She runs a hand through his hair before smiling, as the man in front of her sighs with content.

But Kendrick finds himself alone in the end as always. Nobody is talking to him except his mind playing tricks on him, she isn't real, nor is the hand in his hair. But he still believes for a split second that she is here. And that she still wants to stay.

He is no longer sitting in his leather chair looking out the window, but is now standing up with his heart ablaze.

The weather is great for a walk.

W//N please have no plot errors. I beg.