Teenage Baby

Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

The second time, Daddy thought as he walked out of the room. This was the second time his baby looked like he was about to have a breakdown, but held it back. Aaron's ability to contain himself was impressive, except Daddy found it concerning.

Lou sat on the armchair with Aaron on his lap, deathly silence dominating, yet their steady breaths were still distinctly audible.

Aaron suddenly exhaled as he fished for his voice. Partly, he was afraid of putting his thoughts into words, but he knew he was helpless in front of his curiosity. "How... How old is Leo?" he asked, earning a surprised look from Lou. The question was oddly random, and it caught him off guard, but Lou decided to answer nonetheless. He wanted his baby to feel as relaxed as possible; he didn't want him to feel like a prisoner-confined and forbidden to speak. "He looks almost my age, but I just... I just wanna make sure."

"There's a reason he's your little brother."

"No, I mean, like in reality, not-"

"Baby, what I said is what you want to know, trust me."

Aaron frowned, unsure of whether Lou really understood what he meant with reality-the one where him and Leo were teenagers, not babies. If he did, it meant that Leo was around fifteen maybe, and he looked like it, but Aaron still couldn't be sure about Lou's understanding of the question. "How long has he been here?"

Nope. Lou decided he'd rather not answer that. "I'm bored, and I'm sure you are, too. Let's go see what Mommy and Daddy are up to," he said, dodging the question shamelessly as he stood up and walked out of the nursery, only to meet Daddy halfway through the corridor.

"What's with the sour face, baby?" Daddy asked, chuckling as he tapped Aaron's nose. Lou passed Aaron to Daddy's open arms, and Aaron grunted silently when he found himself helplessly caught in his hold. He would've gladly stayed with Uncle Lou, only because Daddy's grip on him was much firmer. "Relax, love. How about you put your head on my shoulder, wouldn't that be better?"

Aaron was smart enough to notice how the command came in the form of a sweet offer. He hated being in further physical contact with him, but the glare he received gave him no chance but to do as told; he docilely rested his head against Daddy's shoulder.

The new position was much more comfortable for Aaron, even if he hated to admit, because it had been undeniably exhausting to keep his neck and shoulders straight and rigid-his past attempt to maintain personal space with the captors. But even so, Aaron didn't exactly like it. He'd rather feel tired than be so close to Daddy that he could smell his cologne well, nostrils flaring as the scent hit him. Aaron suddenly sneezed, and then all he could hear was soft coos and titters from the captors.

"Bless you, baby. Now let's go cuddle with Mommy."

Daddy carried Aaron to the master's bedroom; it had a modern aura to it, with a king-sized bed that cradled a white mattress and a velvety grey quilt that dripped down the edges. Daddy climbed onto the bed, leant against the headboard and pulled his baby along, positioning him so that his back was pressed against his chest.

Aaron breathed out shakily when Daddy's arm slung around his shoulders, pulling him closer, his fingers caressing the top of his arm where his hand landed.

Aaron's personal space was wailing. Slowly, the proximity to the captor pulled at the frayed threads of his composure. Don't focus on it, Aaron reminded himself. Desperate for distraction, he probed the creamy beige walls that contrasted against the blackhole darkness of the nightstand beside him and the closet opposite him.

The observation ended when Aaron's eyes fell upon the grey curtain that dripped down the window to his left, and he stared longingly. Freedom is so close yet so far, he thought.