Sweet Devil [BL]
Chapter 59 - A ghost?
With an embarrassed smile, Misha looked around the living room, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. For a long time, he stood near the staircase like a statue, wondering if he was dreaming or awake.
The usually tidy living room had gone through a tremendous change overnight. Many colorful decorations had been suspended here and there on the walls and ceiling, their bright colors contrasting vividly with the grey walls. Balloons floated all over the place; a few also laid on the dark, wooden floor, gathered near the L sofa, or the folding table and chairs. A dinosaur-themed tablecloth covered the said table, which was filled with unhealthy food and wrapped gifts.
In all of this, the most striking thing was the big banner in the center of the living room. It wished Misha a happy 10th birthday.
When the boy saw it, he couldn't help but feel somewhat awkward. Despite this childish body of his, he wasn't ten years old but in the middle of his twenties. There was a difference of more than a decade between the two ages.
With a wry smile, he scratched his nose, feeling like a self-conscious woman who refused to accept her age, always giving a number that was obviously not the right one and insisting on it.
While Misha was busy thinking about how this situation was as bizarre as it was ridiculous, someone sneaked up on him from behind before tightly hugging him with one hand and ruffling his hair with the other one.
"So? How do you find our work of art? Mom and I worked very hard while you were sleeping to make this, you know? And I don't want to brag, but most of the decorations are handmade, and the result is quite good. Aren't your sister and mother awesome?" laughed Masha, putting her chin on her brother's small shoulder. "I can't believe you're already ten years old. You're a big boy now."
"And you're an old girl," teased back Misha, sticking out his tongue as he tried to escape from her arms. "Argh! Let me go! I'm not a teddy bear, and I'm hungry!"
Although his sister wasn't particularly muscular, her grip was akin to an iron grip. He struggled for a long time before she reluctantly consented to release him, and Misha then fled to the kitchen. He quickly ate his breakfast, stuffing his cheeks like a squirrel, before going back to his bedroom and changing his clothes.
When he ran down the stairs and walked to the living room for a second time, he saw his whole family sitting on the sofa, which, of course, included his father.
In all honesty, Misha didn't know how to feel about his father being there. Even before cutting him out of his life, Alexey wasn't celebrating his birthday with him, not since his wife's death.
There was even a night where his father had beaten him to a pulp—what a marvelous birthday gift it had been!
Half of his stomach was covered in bruises, the side that his father kept on kicking time after time. So, it wasn't a lie. His stomach did indeed hurt like hell, but that wasn't exactly due to eating spoiled food.
Misha clenched his fists behind his back, trying to chase away the bad memories. At the moment, his father wasn't that man, that violent drunkard. He was still a loving and doting father. Even though he knew this, the boy couldn't help but overlap the two, always afraid that the man would turn evil the moment he least expected it.
"What are you doing, standing there and doing nothing?" chuckled his sister, beckoning him to come closer with her finger. "What do you want to do while we wait for your friends? Watch a movie? Play board games?"
"Play board games!" immediately answered the child as he trotted to them, clumsily sitting on the sofa.
For the next three hours, they played games, and Misha made sure to pit his father as much as he could. It was a little childish, but it did make him feel better, especially when he saw Alexey frowning slightly, confusion written all over his face.
Sometimes, the man didn't even know how he lost, making the boy feel quite proud of himself.
Dereck was a board game lover, so Misha had often played with his friend over the years and accordingly developed a few skills.
The hours went by quickly. They had a good laugh, and overall, it was a pleasing moment. Still, Misha felt like something was missing, although he couldn't tell what it was.
And when Gabriel's helpless smile flashed in his mind, he froze for a second before immediately dismissing it.
No, he wasn't missing him. Well, maybe a little, but not that much. How could he ever miss his sister's boyfriend? It was just fun to annihilate him in a board game as the helpless expression he wore each time was priceless.
The doorbell rang, putting him out of his misery; his thought process had started to make him sweat. He felt like he was trying to make excuses for himself, which left him puzzled and ill at ease.
The little boy swiftly leaped on his feet and ran toward the door, emptying his mind while he was at it.
Without a second thought, he swung the door wide open.
Then, his brain seemed to turn off.
Instead of Vanessa or Dereck, whom he was expecting, three uninvited persons stood on the doorstep. However, Misha only had eyes for the teenage boy standing in the middle and disregarded the two others.
Without a word, he directly pounced on the teenager like a torpedo.
Taken aback, Gabriel took a step back as he cushioned the boy, who wrapped his thin arms around his waist and hit the teenager's stomach with his forehead. The child slowly lifted his crystal clear blue eyes, staring at him like a predator with its prey.
In the child's eyes, Gabriel could see joy but also a bit of anger, and a little something he couldn't decipher.
"You're not a ghost, right?" asked Misha with a hint of doubt in his voice.
"Don't I feel tangible to the touch?" chuckled the teenager, ruffling the boy's soft hair.
"You're not an illusion, either?" suspiciously added the child, sizing him up.
"If I'm tangible, how can I be an illusion? Otherwise, after pouncing on me, you would have hit nothing but air and fallen down the stairs."
With a contemplative look on his face, Misha eventually nodded. His reasoning made sense.
"Then, am I dreaming?"
As an answer, Gabriel pinched the boy's tender cheeks until they turned bright red. "Are you imagining the pain in your cheeks too?"
"Ouch! I get it, I get it! You're real! Let go, you sadist!" cried out the child before adding with a snort, "But it's not my fault if you have disappeared from the surface of the earth for the past two months. Tell me, how can I not be surprised when you pop up out of thin air!?"
Misha pouted, releasing Gabriel to rub his painful cheeks, a look of resentment plastered on his doll-like face. At the same time, he glanced at the well-dressed woman standing beside the teenager, and his expression became icier and gloomier.
All in all, it was that viper's fault if he hadn't been able to see the teenager until now. Although he still hadn't sorted out his feelings about that liar, Misha had come to understand that he wasn't as bad as he had always thought. After all, he did save him when he fell down the slope, not even hesitating a second despite the danger and the possibility of losing his own life.
Yes, his animosity had gone done by a lot, and Misha wanted to learn more about the teenager, to fill in some of the blanks littering their past life.
Suddenly, his fists felt itchy.
He so wanted to beat her half-dead and toss her body into the trash bin. Trash should stay with trash.
The usually tidy living room had gone through a tremendous change overnight. Many colorful decorations had been suspended here and there on the walls and ceiling, their bright colors contrasting vividly with the grey walls. Balloons floated all over the place; a few also laid on the dark, wooden floor, gathered near the L sofa, or the folding table and chairs. A dinosaur-themed tablecloth covered the said table, which was filled with unhealthy food and wrapped gifts.
In all of this, the most striking thing was the big banner in the center of the living room. It wished Misha a happy 10th birthday.
When the boy saw it, he couldn't help but feel somewhat awkward. Despite this childish body of his, he wasn't ten years old but in the middle of his twenties. There was a difference of more than a decade between the two ages.
With a wry smile, he scratched his nose, feeling like a self-conscious woman who refused to accept her age, always giving a number that was obviously not the right one and insisting on it.
While Misha was busy thinking about how this situation was as bizarre as it was ridiculous, someone sneaked up on him from behind before tightly hugging him with one hand and ruffling his hair with the other one.
"So? How do you find our work of art? Mom and I worked very hard while you were sleeping to make this, you know? And I don't want to brag, but most of the decorations are handmade, and the result is quite good. Aren't your sister and mother awesome?" laughed Masha, putting her chin on her brother's small shoulder. "I can't believe you're already ten years old. You're a big boy now."
"And you're an old girl," teased back Misha, sticking out his tongue as he tried to escape from her arms. "Argh! Let me go! I'm not a teddy bear, and I'm hungry!"
Although his sister wasn't particularly muscular, her grip was akin to an iron grip. He struggled for a long time before she reluctantly consented to release him, and Misha then fled to the kitchen. He quickly ate his breakfast, stuffing his cheeks like a squirrel, before going back to his bedroom and changing his clothes.
When he ran down the stairs and walked to the living room for a second time, he saw his whole family sitting on the sofa, which, of course, included his father.
In all honesty, Misha didn't know how to feel about his father being there. Even before cutting him out of his life, Alexey wasn't celebrating his birthday with him, not since his wife's death.
There was even a night where his father had beaten him to a pulp—what a marvelous birthday gift it had been!
Half of his stomach was covered in bruises, the side that his father kept on kicking time after time. So, it wasn't a lie. His stomach did indeed hurt like hell, but that wasn't exactly due to eating spoiled food.
Misha clenched his fists behind his back, trying to chase away the bad memories. At the moment, his father wasn't that man, that violent drunkard. He was still a loving and doting father. Even though he knew this, the boy couldn't help but overlap the two, always afraid that the man would turn evil the moment he least expected it.
"What are you doing, standing there and doing nothing?" chuckled his sister, beckoning him to come closer with her finger. "What do you want to do while we wait for your friends? Watch a movie? Play board games?"
"Play board games!" immediately answered the child as he trotted to them, clumsily sitting on the sofa.
For the next three hours, they played games, and Misha made sure to pit his father as much as he could. It was a little childish, but it did make him feel better, especially when he saw Alexey frowning slightly, confusion written all over his face.
Sometimes, the man didn't even know how he lost, making the boy feel quite proud of himself.
Dereck was a board game lover, so Misha had often played with his friend over the years and accordingly developed a few skills.
The hours went by quickly. They had a good laugh, and overall, it was a pleasing moment. Still, Misha felt like something was missing, although he couldn't tell what it was.
And when Gabriel's helpless smile flashed in his mind, he froze for a second before immediately dismissing it.
No, he wasn't missing him. Well, maybe a little, but not that much. How could he ever miss his sister's boyfriend? It was just fun to annihilate him in a board game as the helpless expression he wore each time was priceless.
The doorbell rang, putting him out of his misery; his thought process had started to make him sweat. He felt like he was trying to make excuses for himself, which left him puzzled and ill at ease.
The little boy swiftly leaped on his feet and ran toward the door, emptying his mind while he was at it.
Without a second thought, he swung the door wide open.
Then, his brain seemed to turn off.
Instead of Vanessa or Dereck, whom he was expecting, three uninvited persons stood on the doorstep. However, Misha only had eyes for the teenage boy standing in the middle and disregarded the two others.
Without a word, he directly pounced on the teenager like a torpedo.
Taken aback, Gabriel took a step back as he cushioned the boy, who wrapped his thin arms around his waist and hit the teenager's stomach with his forehead. The child slowly lifted his crystal clear blue eyes, staring at him like a predator with its prey.
In the child's eyes, Gabriel could see joy but also a bit of anger, and a little something he couldn't decipher.
"You're not a ghost, right?" asked Misha with a hint of doubt in his voice.
"Don't I feel tangible to the touch?" chuckled the teenager, ruffling the boy's soft hair.
"You're not an illusion, either?" suspiciously added the child, sizing him up.
"If I'm tangible, how can I be an illusion? Otherwise, after pouncing on me, you would have hit nothing but air and fallen down the stairs."
With a contemplative look on his face, Misha eventually nodded. His reasoning made sense.
"Then, am I dreaming?"
As an answer, Gabriel pinched the boy's tender cheeks until they turned bright red. "Are you imagining the pain in your cheeks too?"
"Ouch! I get it, I get it! You're real! Let go, you sadist!" cried out the child before adding with a snort, "But it's not my fault if you have disappeared from the surface of the earth for the past two months. Tell me, how can I not be surprised when you pop up out of thin air!?"
Misha pouted, releasing Gabriel to rub his painful cheeks, a look of resentment plastered on his doll-like face. At the same time, he glanced at the well-dressed woman standing beside the teenager, and his expression became icier and gloomier.
All in all, it was that viper's fault if he hadn't been able to see the teenager until now. Although he still hadn't sorted out his feelings about that liar, Misha had come to understand that he wasn't as bad as he had always thought. After all, he did save him when he fell down the slope, not even hesitating a second despite the danger and the possibility of losing his own life.
Yes, his animosity had gone done by a lot, and Misha wanted to learn more about the teenager, to fill in some of the blanks littering their past life.
Suddenly, his fists felt itchy.
He so wanted to beat her half-dead and toss her body into the trash bin. Trash should stay with trash.
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