Tattooed Illusions (BxB)

T H I R T Y T H R E E

Zeus's birthday present from his father when he was sixteen. By the way, I hope you have tissues on hand for this chapter. 😥 The last chapter was fairly lighthearted and the only painful moment was the piano scene. At least for me.

Apollo intertwines his fingers with Heidi's, planting a soft kiss on each of Heidi's knuckles. "You remember this place, baby? Remember when we'd go here all the time?"

A cafe rests at the corner of the street apart from the bustling crowds and endless traffic. The baby blue paint wrapped around the siding has faded, leaving behind patches of warm brown, and the letters of "Café Noir" were scribbled onto the front of the building in a cursive, bold font.

Lining the pathway that leads to the cafe are traces of lavender. Inside, dark walnut tables scatter the floor. Placed atop a pristine, silver tray on each of the tables are tea and a small, buttery croissant.

Apollo inhaled the scent of vanilla coffee, topped with whipped cream and drizzled with caramel. A smile made it's way onto his lips as a girl with short, ebony hair, with Brandy inscribed onto her name tag, pulled out a freshly baked cake that had surely been drowned in velvety chocolate.

Chocolate cake was his favorite. On his birthday, his fathers would bake him a cake and then they'd playfully argue about who put more effort into it. In Apollo's opinion, neither of them put much effort into baking the cake because they were too occupied with making out. Even after all these years, the pair acted like children. In the summer, they'd push each other in the pool and spray each other with the hose. Joseph would act as if he was bothered by the fact that he was soaked to scare Ivan. But as soon as he'd step forward, feigning irritation, Ivan would fall in the pool.

Apollo admired their ability to maintain their love for each other.

Smiling, Apollo ordered two cups of coffee and a box of macarons from a young boy, nodding politely in his direction. He handed him a ten dollar bill.

He pecked Heidi's cheek softly and a blush adorned his face at the feathery touch. Heidi averted his gaze to the blue and white checkered floor. As much as Heidi hated to admit, he loved the attention Apollo constantly gave him. Because of how he grew up, affectionate touches were rare. Apollo was used, on the other hand, to being showered with love and as a result, he spoiled Heidi with kisses and held his hand whenever he could.

The boy gave Apollo his order with a small smile. Apollo gave Heidi his cup of coffee. The scars adorning Heidi's arms, hidden beneath tattoos, were faded and that alone made Apollo smile. Heidi hadn't let a blade graze his skin in two weeks.

Whenever he felt the urge to cut himself, he'd snuggle deeper into Apollo's warm embrace, bathing in the happiness he felt when he was near him. He'd plant peppery kisses onto Apollo's skin. The wide smile that graced his lips at Heidi's touch drove Heidi insane.

Zion pried his dark eyes open. He scanned the unfamiliar white walls with curiosity. Sheets of white hugged his small waist.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother, who was crying softly into her hands, her hazel orbs were puffy and brimmed with tears. Zion's dad held her in his embrace, attempting to soothe her. Her coily, black hair was disheveled and bags were prominent, showcasing her lack of sleep. A sad smile dangled from his father's lips.

But the problem was, once his mom, Farrah, lets her facade slip, the tears spill from her eyes and stain her dark skin immediately. And once you break the dam, the uneven cracks can't heal.

Ryleigh looked numb and lifeless, like he wasn't there at all. He reminded Zion of himself. Next to Ryleigh sat Casper. His usual flirtatious persona and playful smile was replaced with a look of fear glimmering within his dark blue irises.

"Oh, you're up," Farrah smiled falsely, wiping her tears with her loose fitted, sweater sleeve. On her cheeks the salt shone like twinkling stars against the eerie darkness of the night sky.

"What happened?" His voice was hoarse.

"You passed out," a woman with thick rimmed glasses replied in a smooth voice. Her blonde hair was pinned up in a perfect bun and her tired, blue eyes reminded him of his mother. "You weren't eating enough, honey."

Zion averted his eyes, afraid of his mother's worried gaze. "No, I wasn't," he whispered. "I'm sorry, mom."

Into his father's shirt Farrah sobbed, clutching desperately onto the fabric, as she allowed the glue patching her together to peel. She was a broken vase that someone attempted to fix repeatedly, but in the end, the cracks will visible. 

"What's wrong, Casper," Zion prompted once the doctor left the room.

"I was admitted to this hospital two years ago," he choked out. He dug his nails into his palms, as he attempted to mask his emotions. "I spent two months here."

Seeing him so broken was foreign to Zion. He hadn't seen this side of him.

Ryleigh grasped his hand in his and offered him a halfhearted smile. "I'm sorry, Casper. I'm glad you're better now, though. You are better now, aren't you?"

With a ghost of a smile, he replied, "Yeah, I'm better now. But I'm hit with the eraser marks of my past. They say time can heal wounds, but in reality, the wounds never heal. The scars still remain. The memories still remain. And oh fuck, the pain still remains. You do not know how hard I wanted to resort back to eating more than I fucking weigh when I saw the bruises on my brother's face, but in the end, I knew it would just cause him more hell."

Zion lowered his head, his dark hair sprawling across his face. He hadn't related to someone's words than he related to Casper's. He was right. The wounds never truly healed. They fade, sure, but the painful memories the wounds carry never disappear.

"Baby," Zion's mom whispered. She encased her arms around his thin waist. "You and Ryleigh mean the world to me. I love you to the moon and back. Please don't ever starve yourself again. You're beautiful. No matter what anyone says, your body is beautiful. You scared the hell out of me when you were passed out on your bedroom floor. I thought you were dead."

Zion threw his arms around his mother's neck, as he cried into her neck. "I can't help it. I'm sorry. I just can't help it. Look at me. I'm fat!"

"No, you're not," she cooed. "You're not fat. And even if you were chubby, I'd still love you because you're my son. I'll always love you, Zion Carter Lincoln. You're my son. Never forget that."

Zion sobbed even harder. "Mom, I'm so fucking sorry."

"Look at me, Zion." She lifted his chin with her finger. "You have nothing to be sorry about. I can get you help. I will help you get through this, Zion. You'll be okay, I promise."

Zion breathed in Farrah's natural scent of white jasmine, her favorite perfume, and smiled in contentment. Moments later, his father's arms were wrapped around his body, as well, a look of sadness swirling through his green eyes. Ryleigh sat on the other side of the room, while he comforted Casper, but he offered his brother a pained smile.