Owned by Him (rewrite)

32. Cease to Exist

Before the hearth flames were grey stones, the kind with a tinge of black. Charles imagined the stain would be forever in there, becoming one with the bricks. As the warm hues of the fireplace spread, he would see the orange glows, and reds that flickered over them.

In the living room, he was sitting all by himself on a single couch in front of the fireplace, already with his wool shawl wrapping around his shoulders and upper body, seeming warm to the touch of the heated air. It was his favorite spot to be alone, sinking into his thoughts, whatever they may be. There was something about the fire and the sound of coals crackling that soothed him as he watched the night.

"Cooking the government's love letters, Lieutenant?"

Breaking the immense silence was Altin by the door, stooping down so as not to collide with the upper frame due to his unusual height. From the moment he found Charles there, he was sure the lieutenant was so preoccupied with his activity even he didn't notice the door was pulled open.

Altin proceeded to walk into the room, putting this long and huge bag down his shoulder; a sniper drag bag, and laying it on a desk in the corner.

"It's paramount to leave no traces," Charles finally replied, undisturbed with his intruder. He was still nonchalantly throwing letters into the fireplace to burn them down.

"We're loved by them, aren't we?" Altin turned his head to Charles and smiled. A smile that was rather forced and... sad.

This time, Charles didn't return the sarcasm. He stayed quiet until he threw the last sheet of the papers he had been holding into the blazing reds.

Not being returned, Altin pulled his gaze back to his bag, awkwardly checking on his rifle and the sniper equipment - although there was nothing wrong with them - as his attempt to melt the dense atmosphere didn't work.

He knew what those letters were about; the conscious volition to dismiss the organization if the last given mission failed. And he also knew Charles had read them all. It explained why the leader of Green Organization; a person who actually smiles a lot, looked jaded.

Such a situation was the one Charles hated the most, with the mission underway, the government, his deteriorating health due to chronic lung disease - everything. He wanted so much to change the situation, at least, not to be this miserable, but couldn't. And what he hated even more, he could only rely on his only sent agent, his son, Angelo.

He still remembers the farewell that occurred exactly five years and nine months ago in the room he is sitting in right now. In that same room too, many memories have been created, most of them are beautiful, but somehow he could only recall the painful ones. That ash-colored wall is the only eyewitness of what happened in the past, yet it shows almost nothing to play now.

"Did you hear anything from Anna?" Charles made a sound after a long pause, his voice spread concern.

"Anna not saying anything means Angelo is alive," Altin answered, knowing what Charles wanted to hear.

"What?" Charles flinched in his seat with different perception. "Of course, he is alive... Huh? What did you mean by that? My son is alive, right? I know he is alive! Say!"

The old man who will turn seventy next year shrieked at the younger one, his bare emotions leaving the backdrop funny. He had lost his cool for the most trivial thing, neglecting his composure even.

"Lieutenant, you always tend to dramatize everything when it comes to your kids," Altin sighed. For him, the kid here is Charles himself.

He left his sniper gears and came to the oldest Verde, standing close enough to him and also to be able to feel the warmth the fireplace radiated.