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Darius tried to keep his frustration down, very aware of his bubbling hair, and his mannerisms, and his face and, well, pretty much his whole body. You’d think that for someone who prided himself on being a good actor, someone who had to keep his true feelings hidden around other coven heads and Belos himself for years, decades even, he’d be better at it.
The issue was that frustration and anger were some emotions he could, generally, readily let out. He perfectly fell into a role of a prickly, snobby, easily irritated coven head who liked very few things in life and who you didn’t want to piss of.
The bigger issue was that old habits die hard and the role he just described heavily clashed with the role of a caring father he assumed when he adopted Hunter.
The fabric with pintuck and gathers that he spent hours working on being crumpled on the ground, with the sewing supplies scattered all over was a frustrating sight, though. He knew Hunter didn’t do this on purpose, he knew. He didn’t want to dismantle Darius’ current sewing project. He, presumably, needed some sewing supplies or a certain tool and, in his excitement, grabbed everything that was on the workstation.
This wasn’t the first time something like this happened, which made the whole thing more frustrating. Darius didn’t mind Hunter being in his sewing room, but he needed the boy to be just a tad more careful! He did warn him each time, but apparently to no avail.
There were a few non-disastrous things that would get him more frustrated than his sewing projects and his sewing space being messed up, even by the people he loved.
He looked at Hunter, who was hunched over his own project in the corner of the room he designated himself to, and realized he didn’t even notice he entered.
He took another deep breath to calm down. He didn’t want to upset Hunter. Maybe he was upset with the boy but, considering how small the issue was, there was no reason to make a fuss about it. “Hunter?” He called, holding the material he picked up from the ground in his hand.
The boy snapped his head up from his project, turning to Darius, “Yeah?”
“You knocked this over,” Darius sighed tiredly, “again.”
Judging from how pale Hunter went at just the sight of the fabric in Darius’ hands, he not only knew he made a mistake, but Darius wasn’t controlling his tone, nor mannerisms nearly as well as he thought.
“Oh-o, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”
“It’s fine, it will be fine,” Darius sighed, feeling angry at himself. No wonder Hunter was flustered. He just snapped him out of what he was doing, and without any interlude, he just called his name and told him he had done something wrong!
“No, no, I, I should’ve been more careful. Do, do you need me to help you with it?”
Darius gently placed the fabric on the workstation, using the action to calm down. His anger dissipated; the frustration still present. Hunter was right, He should have been more careful. But pressing the issue now would only be more damming.
“No, it’ll be fine, you just focus on your own thing,” he said, offering a smile and trying to relax.
“Oh, ok…” Hunter said and turned his face back to his project. Darius cursed himself silently, noticing how his smile and focus fell. All that because he just couldn't wait to address a relatively small problem or at least approach it with a modicum of restraint.
“I…I know I should be more careful,” Hunter muttered, “But I get so excited and then I realize I need something and you have it and…I’m sorry, I didn’t notice the skirt.”
He hated how small he sounded. How withdrawn. The last thing he wanted was to make Hunter more insecure in his space. On the other hand, he really wanted Hunter to be more careful and attentive with stuff like this. Not just for the sake of his sewing projects, but for Hunter’s sake as well. Carelessly rummaging around sewing supplies can get one injured. (Though fine, this time it was for the safety of his project mostly. He was self-aware enough to admit that pettiness).
“Hunter, it’s fine. I can fix it,” he said, genuinely calmer, trying his darndest to sound reassuring. “A bit more carefulness would be welcome, but it’s not a disaster,” He approached Hunter and ruffled his hair.
“You sounded like it is. Which, I get it, I’d be angry if it was my project too.”
“I’m not angry.”
“You’re not not angry. I’ll just…I’ll go sew in my room.”
Well, that was a disaster, he thought as Hunter, along with his project, left the sewing room, leaving Darius with the unfinished skirt, that he now lost all the motivation to finish, and wondering how was he going to fix this.
….
“…and see this is what I need a solution for! I apologized later, of course, we talked it out and he ended up sleeping next to me, we’re fine, but…I need to fix this fix this, not just put a patch on it until the next time it happens.”
“You were angry, at least a little bit, weren’t you?” Raine, who Darius was taking his lunch with, asked.
“Yes, fine, I was. A little bit,” I wasn’t just frustrated,” he slumped in his chair, “I hate admitting it.”
“Darius, you can’t expect never to get angry at anything that Hunter does, no matter if he’s your kid or how much you love him!”
“I know, I know, anger is a normal emotion, and so is frustration, it’s just the matter of how you express it, yadda, yadda,” Darius read something similar in every book on parenting he read and heard it in every therapy session he attended, “doesn’t mean I’m good at it. Expressing it in a non-hurtful way, I mean. And I know that my anger hurt him more than his mistakes hurt me!”
“Fair enough. And, granted, you could’ve addressed it with a bit more tact…”
“Or just get over it like a grown adult I am!” He grumbled, earning a raised eyebrow from Raine. “What?”
“Well, hiding one’s true emotions never goes well. I’d say trust me, I’m speaking from experience, but I know you know it from your own experience too. Hiding that you’re frustrated with Hunter wouldn’t help you nor him.”
“He sure would be less upset!”
“Maybe. But and I say this as someone who cares for him too, as much as you want to protect him from it, and I know why, he needs to learn that people can be frustrated or even angry at him without that making him awful, or worthless or anything else he made him believe. That you can be frustrated with him, rightfully so in this case, without loving him any less or, titan forbid, wishing to be rid of him or something awful like that. Otherwise, the lesson he’ll learn is that he’s only good as long as people are happy with him.”
“Ugh, you’ve been reading up on parenting books too, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” Raine chuckled, “and pedagogy books too. I’ve been thinking about going back into teaching.
“That’s the issue! I know I can’t coddle him! Well, I can coddle him a little bit, but not that much, I guess. I just wish that finding that freakin’ balance would be easier! See, this is what you get for asking how I’m doing! We’re spending our lunch break discussing my issues!” He stared grumpily at his and Raine’s half-eaten salads as if they personally offended them.
“Oh, I apologize, next time I notice you’re in a bad mood, I’ll just ignore it, you know, like good friends do!” Raine’s voice dripped with sarcasm, “Because that will help everyone involved!”
“Ugh…”
“Look,” Raine dropped the sarcasm, their voice once again more than sincere, “I don’t have much experience parenting, or co-parenting myself, I’m not even sure if living with a kid and his mum for two months qualifies me, but maybe I can help. And I don’t mind one lunch being quote-unquote ruined to do so!”
“You would be doing me a favour, that’s for certain,” Darius rubbed his temples tiredly. They did spend a longer time teaching than it was common for a coven head.
“I’d be helping a friend, same as you would if I, I don’t know, came to you asking if you have any advice on what to get King or Luz as a gift! But first, I need you to be honest.”
“I was honest!”
“Yes, you told me what happened. But I want you to answer me, on a scale from one to ten, just how frustrated were you?” Raine’s voice wasn’t judgmental, but it still felt like a punch to the gut.
Darius didn’t like that question. It made him feel like a jerk. Or rather, he felt like the person he was before he started properly caring for Hunter, before the kid, after that one fateful day, grew on him. He thought of himself back then as, the person he was, but acknowledging his frustration with something as relatively small as Hunter disturbing his sewing space made him wonder if he changed that much in the first place. What kind of a parent gets frustrated with his own kid for something as small and innocent as knocking a sewing project (that, granted, took over three hours to pin everything in place properly, and two more to fix it)?
“Darius?”
“Ugh, fine, I don’t know? Six?”
“Ok, expected, you were always particular about your working space.”
Darius sneered, “Oh, rub it in, won’t you!”
“I’m not trying to rub it in, I’m just saying it makes sense considering how much you value your space,” there was no accusation in their voice, but Darius still huffed.
“Darius,” Raine said seriously, “You know that feeling frustrated because your child, for lack of a better term, invaded what is supposed to be your own space, doesn’t make you a bad parent? Nor does wishing for a space, or a surface, or whatever that is just yours make you one?”
He groaned tiredly. Sometimes, having people understand you was tiring. Before, it was only Eber who fit the description, but now the number of people who got him grew larger, and Raine was very much one of them.
“I guess I do, on paper. When you say it, it makes sense.”
“I know you want to provide him with freedom and space to explore himself and his interests and to thrive, and to make the environment that assures he’ll feel safe anywhere in the villa. But if you make yourself kinda miserable in the process, you won’t help him. He is a child, and yes, he needs love and understanding and support, especially considering his past, but you’re allowed to have boundaries too. Eda and I certainly do.”
“Raine,” Darius rubbed his temples, trying to find the right words to explain things, “it’s not that I don’t want him to enter my sewing room! How would that even look? Have a sign that says Private and keep the key always on my person? He’s not three! I wouldn’t do that to him. I like having him around when we’re sewing it’s just…”
“That you don’t want Hunter messing with certain things you own when you’re not around, that is, in my opinion, perfectly reasonable,” Raine said matter-of-factly, “I know that I don’t like the kids messing with some of my instruments, and I’m not even talking about Fiddle’s violin! Don’t worry, wishing four your stuff to remain untouched and undisturbed doesn’t make you the snob that you used to be.”
“Ugh, Raine…”
“Sorry,” they cringed, “that’s sounded like a jab, it wasn’t supposed to! But my point stands.”
“And what am I supposed to do? Split the room in half and make a rule that he has to strictly adhere to his side?" Darius asked. He pictured the room with a strict line in the middle, serving more like a wall than a line. Hunter already secluded himself to one corner, in good part because of Darius’ lack of tolerance, what would that accomplish?
“It sounds sensible to me,” Raine shrugged, “Ok, not the part about a strict divide but, if you want to share the space with your son, then share it. If the most comfortable way to do that ends up being designated one side as your own and the other as Hunter’s than so be it!”
“I’m not sure if it will send the right message,”
“Think of it rationally. We’re all creative types. In different ways, but that’s beside the point. If I’m composing and someone messes up my note sheets, I’d be annoyed to. If, say Luz was drawing or if King was writing, or Lilith was making her miniatures, you think any of them would be happy if their things got moved around?”
“They’re not parents.”
“Ok, think of someone who is creative and a parent! Unless you end up being an idioo about it and present it as Here, you’re side of the room so you can stop being a nuisance-“
“That’s what I’m scared of. That that’s how he’ll take it, no matter how careful I end up being with my wording,” Darius admitted. For how he presented the idea, ridiculing it, he did consider it. But while it seemed like a good option, Raine just voiced his biggest fear about it. He considered his fear reasonable, considering his past gaffes in communication with Hunter (and people in general).
“I know. But I also know how many times you were able to help him with his anxieties, to calm him down, to reassure him. Are you just doing this for yourself?”
“What?” Darius gasped in an offended tone even though he knew that wasn’t Raine’s intention, “No! I want Hunter to have a space where he can freely express himself, without worrying what someone else will, including me. He shouldn’t have a corner, or only be allowed to use the workstation when I’m not on it, or use his desk which he has to clear out to do his homework, or whatever, he deserves his own sewing space!”
“Now think about what you just said,” Raine grinned.
“I…ok, fine, you got the point. I mean, technically I could make him his own sewing room, but he would probably feel separated, and I only have those two guestrooms available to remodel. And the attic rooms.”
“Ah, yes, so little space,” Raine chuckled.
“Shut up! Your house is no shack either!” Darius grumbled, though glad for the lighter tone the conversation took, “The lighting in those rooms is appalling, at least for sewing! I’m not having my son use those!”
“Ok, ok, I was teasing!”
“Well stop it! Now, do you have some paper I can borrow; I left my sketchbook in the office?”
“I have a napkin,” Raine offered, and Darius grabbed it, quickly sketching his sewing room. His workstation next to the big cutting table at the end of it, the mannequin in the corner. His sewing machine that was mostly collecting dust. Plenty of empty space, that he would usually use to pace around or to try out the mock-ups. He certainly would have enough space for two people to spare.
As he pondered about where to put Hunter’s workstation and that sewing machine, he found in a human realm thrift store and insisted they get that one, even if Darius offered buying him a new one, he asked Raine, “So, isn’t Luz visiting this weekend?”
“She is,” Raine smiled, their expression indicating they already knew what Darius’ next question would be.
“Ok. Now, what are the chances of organizing a sleepover at your place then?”
……
Darius’s sewing room was the brightest, and the fourth biggest room in his villa. With the wall opposite to the door entirely made out of floor-to-ceiling windows, it allowed plenty of natural light even on rainy, grey days. The cutting desk used to be placed right next to the glass wall. The rest if Darius working space was mostly taking up the left side of the room, while the right side served more as storage space and the space to hang in-progress projects in.
The space was neat, clad in purple and white, with a dark, wooden floor and golden accent. Perfectly, entirely made to Darius’ taste and needs.
But now, that was all about to change.
He wiped his brow from the sweat, as he just moved the big cutting table, one wide and long enough he could comfortably lay on it, to the middle of the room. He straightened his back and groaned. As much as he would never admit it, even before the Day of Unity and the draining spell, he started to feel the effects of his age on his body.
Now, his back ache was triple that from before.
At least there was no one around to witness this and, inevitably, tease him about it.
He looked at his progress. He was nearly done.
The cutting table now dominated the middle of the room, but still allowed a lot of space to walk around it. He moved a small dresser, his boxes and the in progress rack to the left side of the room and moved his sewing machine to allow himself more space. The thing was barely used to begin with. His workstation was in nearly the same spot as his own, he just inched it a bit closer to the midline of the glass wall. He arranged everything so his workflow would be as uninterrupted as before, despite the smaller amount of space.
It was fine. It would require some getting used to, his space was more cramped than before, and he couldn’t figure out the best spot for his mannequin for the life of him, but this rearrangement meant one thing that was much more important.
The right side of the room was now Hunter’s.
He moved Hunter’s working station from the corner to the window-paned wall, next to his own. He placed a small chest of drawers with sewing equipment in the middle, so the two wouldn’t have to trip over each other while working to get what they needed. He brough another desk from the attic and placed Hunter’s new sewing machine on it. The boy already owned one, in his bedroom, but if he could provide his son two sewing machines, why wouldn’t he?
Hunter had his own space in what was their sewing room now.
He looked to the right side of the room. It was still quite empty, since he didn’t want to move Hunter’s fabric stash from his room without asking him first, but he got him some fun boxes, a new chair and an armchair for when he just wanted to sit down and sew.
Hunter’s abomination mannequin, one Darius made same as his own, so it would answer to simple vocal instructions, taking pretty much any shape of any person, was dead in the middle of Hunter0s space. Hunter liked it this way. Darius could never understand it, but who was he to question his son’s workflow?
He left Hunter’s sewing station as messy as he found it (at Eber’s suggestion, he took a photo of it before he started moving Hunter’s stuff around, and then placed everything back where it was to the n of his ability.) He would be a right hypocrite if he did otherwise. Though how Hunter could work in a space as chaotic as that, was a mystery yet to be solved.
The whole room now looked slightly unbalanced and more cramped, but it sure as heck looked more welcoming to another person who may want to spend time in that space.
He, quite literally, didn’t just invite Hunter into his space, but made Hunter’s own within it.
Now was time for final details.
The cushion with wolves on it, one Eda dug up from one of her stashes. The pen cups from the Rulerz Reach merchandise clearance (signed by King). He stacked a few books with sewing and embroidery tips he found lying around the house. Ones his mum gave to him over thirty years ago. He debated buying new ones, but he knew Hunter would appreciate this more.
Finally, he brought out two photos he printed out in wall picture size and had framed. The first one was taken by Eber, as Darius was showing Hunter how to insert a pocket into a piece of clothing. The other one, also taken by Eber, depicted Hunter proudly showing Darius a patch he made as a birthday gift for Raine.
He placed one the wall on his side and one on Hunter’s.
He looked over the room, fondly chuckling at the sight. His side of the room was still nearly immaculately, with the exception of the few in-progress projects lying around.
Then there was Hunter’s side. Messy, chaotic, colorful. Darius may have not removed the purple curtains, but there were still enough of the yellows, reds, greens, blues and all the other colours of the rainbow to serve as contrast. And he was sure it would only get more chaotic once Hunter started using it.
Even if he could never work in that space, it had a certain charm to it. And, after all, the whole point of this project was to make Hunter’s space where he could work, not Darius.
There is a difference between letting a child into your space, into your life, and sacrificing all your comfort for them. And only one of those is sustainable.
He hoped he achieved that balance with this.
As he checked the clock, anxiety set in. What if Hunter hated it? What if he felt pushed out, or restricted?
What if this ended up hurting him more than it helped?
There was a part of him that just wanted to move everything back, but that would be useless. He would just be back to square one, and that wouldn’t last for long. (And it would probably destroy his back).
He loved Hunter, beyond words. But no matter how much he loved the kid, having someone mess up his sewing space, repeatedly, would start getting to him fast. Just like it did every time Eber would make a mess in the kitchen, but worse, because he cared about order in his sewing room more. He was very particular about sewing and he didn’t love to have his creative flow interrupted. He took after his mum in that way.
She was creative as well, albeit in a different way than Darius and he knew how many times he ruined her day by knocking over one of her arrangements. Despite this, he never, ever genuinely questioned if she loved him.
Leaving the space how it was before would just lead to frustration. And he couldn’t have Hunter tiptoeing around him either.
He felt like the room was a nice compromise. He hoped Hunter would feel so too.
With 30 minutes left till Hunter was supposed to come back home, he went to have a quick shower. He was sweaty and dusty and his back would appreciate the massaging effect.
As the last touch, he pulled out a large jar of abomination goo he prepared earlier. This particular type of abomination would take the form, firm up, and last long into the future.
He shaped the blob into a long rectangle with words carved into it, DARIUS’ AND HUNTER’S SEWING ROOM.
Maybe it was cheesy. But it was the last touch he believed would be needed. He then hid the sign behind the cutting table so it wouldn’t ruin the surprise immediately after Hunter walked into the room.
….
“Daaad! I’m home!”
Darius rushed to the hallway to meet his kid. Hunter was in the doorway, a wide grin on his face, his hair a mess as always, a giant burlap bag, in addition to the backpack he took for the sleepover, in his hand. He noticed that he had mismatched socks, and he was wearing what looked like one of Raine’s shirts.
What the hell were the kids doing that required Hunter to borrow the bard’s clothes?
“Hello, Little Prince,” Darius greeted, “how was the weekend?”
“Amazing!” Hunter dropped the burlap bag and the backpack unceremoniously on the floor, “one of the best ever!”
“Glad to hear it!” Darius pulled him for a hug and ruffled his hair, “Now,” he let go, placing both of his hands on Hunter’s shoulders, “what kind of shenanigans did you get into to warrant this and what’s in the bag.”
“Um…Luz, King and I may or may not have gone for some flying practice in the woods and I may or may not have muddied all of my clothes…three times in a row…and then on the next day we may have joined Eda for a trash slug run…”
Darius blinked in disbelief, “Why does she even still do those?”
Hunter shrugged, “She says they are fun. And, I mean, it stinks, but they are! Trash slugs are fascinating creatures!”
“Uh-huh,” Darius didn’t share his son’s enthusiasm, but he knew Eber would agree once they got home, “Now, please tell me you didn’t drag some contents of the trash slug in that bag?” He eyed the thing suspiciously, ready to stop Hunter from opening it and releasing the odors into the house.
“Oh, I did, but I washed them! Plus some of the stuff Eda gave me!”
“Ah, so her human realm junk,” Darius said light-heartedly. He joked with Eda that she was just using Hunter and Gus to get rid of the stuff she didn’t want. He knew it wasn’t (entirely) true, because things Hunter took back home were way to specific, and he knew she liked him enough to only gift him things he would genuinely like. He was careful to never plant that idea in Hunter’s head.
“No! I mean, yeah, but it’s good junk!” Hunter said with an even wider grin, “she had some fabric with a space theme, it’s like something from Cosmic Frontier! It’s so cool!” Hunter said as he pulled a small bundle of fabric from the bag. It was a bit gaudy by Darius’ standard, though he was trying hard to be less judgmental about it, especially considering Hunter’s enthusiasm for colourful fabrics.
Hunter wearing stuff that he’d call tacky or poor tastes in the past was a slap in the face he needed. Oh sure, he had a different standard judging his own son’s creations and everyone else’s, but he tried being less mean and picky about it I in general. People had their own styles. That was fine.
“Weren’t you just looking for something similar?”
“Yeah, for the jacket, but this ia a bit lightweight, like for a shirt, don’t ou think?”
Darius felt the fabric. It was surprisingly nice under his fingers, “It would make a good one, I’m sure,” he quietly thanked Eda for this gift. Now he could naturally lead Hunter to the sewing room without revealing the surprise first. “Come on, let’s put it away and then we can have some dinner.”
“Oh, I ate,” Hunter said, “Raine made some spicy giant octopus nuggets and some non-spicy ones for me and King! But I could eat again!”
“Hmm, are you about to have another growth spur?” Darius wondered. Hunter’s appetite over the last few weeks was growing, as it did the last time he was about to grow a few inches.
“Maybe? Or maybe I just like your cooking!” Hunter said in a tone that was somehow cheeky and sweet at the same time.
Darius simply smiled as he led Hunter to the sewing room.
“Oh, by the way,” Darius said, trying hard not to sound nervous, “I have a surprise for you.”
“What?”
“This,” he opened the door to the room, turning to Hunter to see his reaction, just in case it was a really bad one so he could immediately intervene.
Hunter stood there, his mouth agape dn he took a few tentative steps into the space.
“It’s…different,” he said, his eyes growing wide as he took everything in, “how…why?”
Darius sighed, “I thought about the other day a lot. And the incident before that and-“
“Oh…sorry..”
“No, no, I don’t want any apologies. You have nothing to apologize for. I’m still sorry I snapped that day, but it’s been on my mind since.”
“You moved your stuff…” Hunter said in a tight, slightly worried voice.
“Yes. To make space for you. Or rather, to give you your space. At first I thought about making your own sewing room. But the only rooms available are the two guestrooms on the second floor and they have appaling lighting for sewing. No son of mine will sew in a space like that. Besides, I like sewing with you.”
“You didn’t have to. I would be fine with…a corner or something.”
“But I wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair from me to allow you into this space while expecting you to change nothing.”
“But it’s not fair from me to move your stuff! I…I know how it feels.”
“I know, and it’s ok. It was an accident and it’s in the past. This way we can both sew, in the same space, together, without tripping over each other. I won’t place anything I’d mind being touched or moved on the cutting table, the one in the middle, or I’ll mark it, and I’m going to ask you to do the same. Therefore, we can both have our own surfaces and if we leave something unfinished there, it0s like saying please, don’t touch this, but we can sew together. And we can share the space.”
“You only did this because I can’t be careful…”
Now that stung. Darius sighed, “Well, maybe I should’ve done this a long time ago, instead of letting you sew in a corner. I’m not mad at you for the other day, things like that happen. They happened to me too as a kid.”
“Really? With your aunt? The one who taught you to sew?”
“Well, now that you mention it, probably, but that’s not what I meant. See, while my mum isn’t the best sewist, she used to be really into plants. She actually wanted to pursue plant track in school, but it turns out she doesn’t have much talent for it. Kind of the opposite of our friend Willow. However, one day, she found this book from the human realm on the art of flower arrangements. A lot of people found it silly, why would you spend hours making them if you can just find a good pland witch and get the prettiest bouquet ever, but not ma!”
“I saw the arrangements when we visited, She even mentioned them, but I never thought it was that weird she would make them by hand…”
“That’s because you’re open-minded,” Darius ruffled his hair, “Anyways, one day, I was running around the house, practicing abomination forms and I,” somehow, he felt sheepish about it even decades later, “well, I knocked over this huge arrangement shw was working on. She told me not to play around her workbench but to no avail.”
“Was she mad?”
“A bit. She was ore tired than anything. We laugh about it now, or she’ll use this story to prove that I was a menace in my own way when talking to her friends.”
Hunter looked at him, and the amount of anxiety from his face was gone, “You were like me!”
“Very much so. I get it, the need to practice, the near tunnel-vision you can get when you’re creating something with joy. So this is your space when you can have that, one-hundred percent.”
Hunter looked around his side of the room, “It’s still messy. I can tidy it up…”
“Hunter, if I wanted it tidied up, I’d have tidied it up. The whole point is for you to have that space for yourself to do as you please with. Messy and chaotic, tidy or cluttered, it’s yours.”
“But it’s your sewing room!”
“And you’re my son. And if you’re to use it, it only makes sense for you to have as uch freedom in it as I do. I will ask you to ask for certain specific things on, quote unquote, my side. But, if I infringe on your side, if I move something, or disturb something, feel free to call me out too. It’s only fair for our sewing room.”
“Our?”
“Yeah, look,” he said pulling out the sign, “I change it, I just didn’t place it, so I wouldn’t ruin a surprise. And, yes, almost forgot, you can change whatever you want in your space.”
Hunter opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed them again, only making a small, almost squealing sound. His face, all to the ears turned red and he started to flap his hands, before the tears pooled in his eyes and he pulled Darius in a hug.
“Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”
If Darius didn’t know better, he’d think his ribs would crack from the ferocity of the hug. He returned it with as much force, lifting Hunter up a bit. Hunter was the one who broke the hug, wiggling himself free, so he could go check out his new sewing soace.
“It’s soo cool! Oh, my look at the pillow! It has wolves on it,” Hunter picked the item up showing it do Darius as if he wasn’t the one who picked it.
He ran around his side of the room, utterly enthralled by the details Darius put in, wondering how Darius managed to put things (mostly) where they were before in his mess space
That’s when he looked up at the photos of the two of them. He stopped in his tracks, looking between the one on Darius’ side and the one on his own and his eyes filled with tears.
“I…you didn’t have to do this. You’ll have less space now. And…aren’t you bothered by the mess.”
Darius crouched slightly, so he would be on eye-level with Hunter., as he would do every time he wanted to talk about something particularly important.
“From my perspective, I did have to do this. But whether I did or didn’t is irrelevant. I wanted to. I wanted to offer you a space in which you can express yourself without having to worry about infringing on mine. And I wanted us to have a space that we can share. Sure, I have less space to myself,” he gently cupped Hunter’s face, realizing he was about to turn it away, guiltily, “but it’s because I get to share it with you. It’s not just a duty as a parent to do so, it’s an honour and a want!” He kept his eyes locked on Hunter’s and noticed tears forming in the corners of his son’s eyes, “As for the mess, I’ll be honest, it boggles my mind how you can work in it, but it’s not on my working station , so no, it d0esn’t bother me. Do with your space and your sewing as you please.”
Hunter looked like he was about to bawl again, flustered and red in his face, before he stepped forward, burying his face into Darius’ shoulder.
“Thank you!”
“You’re very much welcome, Little Prince.”
The hug was not as fierce as the previous one, but it held the same weight, if not greater. Darius held Hunter close, allowing him to calm down from the emotional high a bit.
“Can we…can we skip the dinner and just sew a bit? In here?”
Darius felt chocked up at this. Happy and feeling proud of himself because he managed to create the exact thing Hunter needed, he patted his son’s back, “In a minute. You may have eaten Raine’s non-spicy snacks, but I didn0t have dinner. Let me have a snack, and then we can do something, ok?
“Yeah, ok. Can I…can I bring my fabric piles here?”
“Yeah, if you’d li-”
“Ok! I’mabouttodothatwhileyoueatbye!” Hunter rushed, or rather, skipped away towards his bedroom.
Darius’ heart felt full. The whole thing went even better than he could imagine.