Sorrow | 18+

11 Burn

A song to listen to: Close To The Flame by HIM

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Zero

When I was younger, I adored my father. How he held the power and used his physical strength. To me he was always the right amount of strict and praising. I was his first born and fast learner, so it did make me happy to see him proud of me. His impulsiveness was inherited by me while Rem was tinier, more mindful. He didn't have the same instinct in a fight. Father discontinued training him and gave all his attention, energy to me. Later I realised how differently he acted towards us. I completely believed he didn't like Remiel. My brother might have even scared him a bit, to be shamed by his own son's intelligence. For him raw power was all that mattered. He didn't care about Rem's good grades on mathematics when I won running races, got belts on martial arts and beat the hell out of my classmates. I was the reckless one and Rem the calculating one, until we let our personalities shine, diversify. That was when we didn't look up to our father anymore.

The crucial moment of growing up was when I noticed how he treated our mother, his own sister, his niece or any other woman. It made me sick. The fear of God was implemented on me by my mother, but I simply saw how the faith made her blind to the actions of my father. She served her husband and God until the day she died, never turning her back. I abandoned my faith when I catched my father from a sin that could only be paid with blood. I used the strength he had teached me to end his life. I never confessed this to my mother, even though she might have suspected I was behind slicing her husband's throat in their shared bed. After that I utilised the weakness my father had discarded to expand our organisation the way he never could have. Remi and I made our own legacy. Still, the strings of our father were lingering inside of us. He had taught us to not get beaten, which we did forget for a moment and the consequences tripled like water in a pond. Would he have made the mistakes we did?

I draw a smoke inside my lungs to burn my useless thoughts away. It was a pretty evening, the sun sharing a bright glow over everything and not wanting to get down for the night. The balcony gave the view of the small city with short buildings. People were roaming over the streets and enjoying the summer heat before getting ready for the ecstasy of Friday night. I missed the smell of the sea from our hometown and the rush. I needed more people passing by in a hurry so that I could disappear among the crowd easier. Maybe in another city I would not have noticed her.

I breathed out. The cigarette was burning on my hand. I had hoped the thick taste of it would have helped me. Vivienne's flavour lingered on my tongue, the sweetness slowly turning to sour. She had been extremely pretty on my lap, blushing all over her face and her lips plump enough to bite. The way she had looked at me burned inside my brain. Her moans had gone straight to my dick and it had taken all my self discipline to not flip her stupid teasing skirt up and take her on the coffee table. Her cumming on my fingers was not my original plan, but she was just too mesmerising. The way she squeezed my fingers in, begged for more. As soon as I knocked her to my lap, I got lost. It wasn't smart. I was acting only on instinct, going after the power with all I got like my father. The look Remi gave me on the car had started a headache. The judgement in his eyes was clear, even if he did try to hide it and cracked jokes about public sex.

Actions could not be reversed and now we waited to see how much of a moron our enemies were. Cris had joined me on the balcony to smoke as usual. The silence he provided soothed the spinning thoughts in my throbbing head. During the last two years there wasn't a thing that I had regretted because I chose my actions precisely. What I could sacrifice without a second thought. Asking a girl who slept in your arms peacefully to be your distraction was a move truly more suitable for my father.