Through the Screen

Chapter 88

cautious footsteps make noah avert his gaze from the broken glass on the floor, to the small figure

slowly approaching the threshold of the kitchen, his fingers tightening visibly around the broken piece of

plate in his hands once he notices the misery on adrian's face—hair unkempt, lips chapped, forehead

marked with thin lines of worry and an unhealthy pallor of sadness on his usually warm pink cheeks.

"y-you can go and freshen up, i'll do this," adrian's voice is barely audible, and noah can't find any

words to say once the younger boy grabs the dustpan from noah's loose grip and dodges the scattered

porcelain on the floor.

"adrian i—"

"i'm fine, i promise, please go and take a shower, i'll order something to eat so you feel better," adrian

refused to meet noah's eyes, he knew he would start crying in just one look at the morose expression

on his father's face. he wasn't mentally strong enough to keep the image of noah's watery eyes and his

sunken cheeks and the permanent frown on noah's lips in his mind. he can barely blink away the sight

of abel leaving, and the sound of doors slamming in unison.

"nan's coming over in a few hours," noah bit his lip, confused at the way adrian's cheeks flushed at the

statement. "c-can you call—um—" noah can't physically let his name slip out of his mouth. he doesn't

want to break down again.

"yeah i will," the assuring tone in adrian's voice causes noah to push his son's hair away from his

forehead and a broken, half hearted apology to fall from his lips.

"i'm sorry," he chokes. "you don't deserve this, you're not supposed to deal with all of this," noah lets

another feeling carve itself into his chaos of a brain—guilt. the complex, slowly building and the feeling

of guilt that can't be looked over. the one that begins from the very centre of his heart and expands

slowly throughout his body, leaving behind a hot waterfall of nothing in particular, slowly filling up his

chest. it drowns his happiness, drowns his lungs, drowns every other feeling that exists. he feels guilty

for putting a child through this just because of his own issues, breaking a child's ideal house into mere

pieces and stepping over it so selfishly.

"don't worry about me," adrian struggles to smile, pushing noah's hand away from his face and refusing

to meet his eyes. amidst the storm of confusion in his brian, adrian lets another feeling carve its way in

—guilt. the simple, broken down, obvious feeling of guilt that arises from the base of his chest and

lands on the tip of his tongue, dotting the corners of his eyes with tears. he feels unbearably guilty for

coming between his parents' problems like this, forcing them to sort things out, speeding them through

heartbreaks just because of him.

and that's why they both break down when the other is not in sight, noah's back sliding down against

the wooden door and adrian's fingers loosing their grip on the piece of glass so he can sob into his

palms.

an hour later noah is sinking down into the recliner, a bowl of soup in his hands and a blanket draped

over his shoulders, drops of water landing on his glasses from his dripping wet hair. and maybe it would

bother him any other time, today, he just sits silently and lets the hot liquid slide down his throat and

comfort the splintering mess inside.

his heart has completely vanished from within his chest, either that, or it is simply, so utterly broken that

noah can't feel it anymore. the ache in his chest, the burn in his lungs, the sting in his eyes—everything

has disappeared, leaving behind this empty, numb pain that can't be felt but is there, slowly expanding,

slowly churning, slowly killing noah all over again.

"want to watch a movie?" adrian suggests, trying to lighten up the mood a little bit and when noah looks

over at him, adrian's red rimmed eyes give away instantly that he's been crying.

"sure," noah likes to think he smiled to make the syllable a little softer, but he can't seem to feel his Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

muscles moving at all.

"the lion king?" adrian giggles despite the situation, and noah leans his head back against the backrest,

a small groan falling from his lips.

"yeah i think i need to cry a little more,"