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Screams filled the room. Lamentable, bitter wailing not meant for the ears of a man of his status. Crying of a child he usually shoved into the arms of the nanny before attending to the important matters of life. The really important ones.
The ones that had got him into all this in the first place.
Gerhard narrowed his eyes briefly before raising his voice. “Now shut up already! Don’t you realise you’re a nuisance?”
And as expected, the crying subsided for a breath before it tripled in volume and ripped through his marrow and bones. Ever since Raphael had taken away his toy, Angelico had been unable to calm down and whenever Gerhard raised his voice, his son’s wailing grew in volume and strength.
“What do I have to do to make you stop fussing?” Raising his arms, he stared down at Angelico’s blond mop of hair, but only heard the usual muddled sounds. It was unbelievable that this child was his and, above all, of noble birth.
Then again, he had never bothered with his son until now. After all, he had work to do and children were for the bloodline, not to spend the last of his mental resources. The others’ children were already packing up, ready to go home, and he was the only one still standing in the same spot, unable to get his son out of this terrible wailing.
With shaking fingers, Gerhard ran a hand over his face. If he could, he would rewind time and wipe Dali’s rejection of the mission away faster – long before he would drive them all into this hell of a mess. Better yet, he’d rewind to the day before and come up with a war plan against this idiot at breakfast.
“Daddy...”
Angelico’s drawn-out whimper snapped him out of his thoughts, so he opened his mouth again, ready to issue more orders as he looked into the red, watery eyes staring at him like he was the only help in this room. Just like back then. Just like the day he’d thought the only solution was to go solo against suspected TRUMP-members just to kill Dali’s wife.
He gently placed a hand on his son’s soft mop of hair. Angelico’s crying stopped immediately, bringing with it a silence that dragged Gerhard into the abyss.
He remembered what had happened as if it had occurred only yesterday. It was one of those endless dreams haunting him on some nights. In a matter of seconds, he relived it all. The moment he had broken into the house and seen this woman, beautiful as ever, ready to taste his blade without offering resistance. Somewhere in between, he thought he remembered fire. And bloodstained floors. And the numb feeling in his entire body, knowing he’d lose Dali for good that way.
Had he felt relief then? Had the knowledge he might no longer be working so closely with Delico made him happy?
He pressed his lips together. Back then, when he had turned to Dali, who had appeared and stormed over to his wife, he had only watched out of the corner of his eye – his posture upright and unwavering, hoping Dali would recognise him as an enemy. Just for a moment, so that the shallow feeling of affection would burst before it grew. But Dali hadn’t looked at him that day. His gaze had wandered to his children, then back to his wife, and before Gerhard knew it, the incident had ended and Dali hadn’t exchanged a single word with him.
In all that time, not a single thing had been said about the incident between them and yet he had brought it up today, out of heat from a stupid argument he had lost. Somehow. Dali’s rejection had been clear and yet his warm breath had sent tingles all over Gerhard’s body.
A sigh escaped him. “Let’s go, Angelico.”
“But... my toy...” Round cheeks puffed out, his son’s gaze pierced him unyieldingly. But looking for a child’s toy was anything but fitting for a nobleman. Or a man in general.
“I’ll buy you a new one on the way home.”
“But I want this one!”
“What difference does it make?” His voice rose. “It’s just a piece of wood.”
He should have seen it coming. He should have known better after all the other defeats between him and his son. But as the tears welled up again and Angelico drew in his breath, Gerhard felt a desperate twitching in his bones. Should he raise his hands and press them to his ears to at least muffle the screeching that was about to follow?
His body succumbed to indecision and just as he was thinking about offering Angelico something else, Dali appeared behind him. His shoulder pressed against Gerhard’s and the shudder running through his body made him swallow. Simultaneously, he heard Dali’s voice much too close to his ear. “Look what I’ve got!”
Before Angelico could burst into tears again, Dali brought a gleam to his eyes with his toy, which even Gerhard found strangely warming. Affection settled in his chest and didn’t disappear even when he looked into his friend’s endlessly dark eyes.
Part of Gerhard opened his mouth silently, unable to find words. The way Dali treated the children, the way he stopped them from screaming and how much warmth and amusement there was in his actions – was it wrong to want all that for himself? The rest of him knew better, feeling the hot pinpricks in his chest and flooding the inner torment with angry behaviour and a raised nose.
“I hope you’ll fulfil the mission properly!” Gerhard stubbornly tried to look down at him – to no avail. “We can’t afford to half-ass things!”
“I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” Elated, Dali took a step forward, handed Angelico his toy and took a quick look at the baby in his arms. “It’s just another challenge for me to master. I’m much more interested in whether you and the others are up to the task.” A grin formed on his thin lips. “Child raising is a fascinating field once you get the chance to get into it.”
Dali hated him. He certainly did. After everything that had happened, it seemed impossible to believe otherwise. It had been Gerhard who had put him in this position. It had been he who had deprived this family of a mother. The certainty turned his stomach.
“You loathe me, don’t you?” Clenching his hands into fists, Gerhard addressed the subject again. If they were going to work together on this mission, they needed to have a clear conversation. A few words that would bury any feelings of attraction in him so they could get on with their lives. So he could go on with his life.
“I already told you that you did me a favour. Now I get to take care of my kids-“
“Stop with that crap!” His voice grew louder as his gaze fixed on Dali. “You loathe me for what happened. For killing your wife. Go ahead and say it!”
“You seem to like dwelling on old things.”
“It was just a few months ago!”
The sudden tug on Gerhard’s trouser leg barely reached his awareness, but the whimper drew his gaze to Angelico. “Daddy ... don’t be angry...”
“Well said, Angelico!” Cheerfully, Dali gave the child a wink. “Your son already seems to be smarter than you.”
“Wha-“
“Be quiet.” In defence, Dali raised his free hand. “Sure, I could say I loathe you for what you did, but if I’m honest ... I’m over it. I know this day has been as hard on you as it has been on me, and instead of obsessing over my loss, it’s better to look at the positives of it all.”
“The ... positives?” The knot in Gerhard’s stomach tightened further. If Dali didn’t hate him, if he didn’t get a chance to carry this guilt heavily on his shoulders, he would succumb to this warmth in his chest. “What nonsensical talk.”
“Certainly, if you get hung up on ancient mannerisms and define your pride by your raised nose ... you’re undoubtedly right up there.” A confident nod came over Dali and Gerhard couldn’t deny the temptation of a hug was as strong as the desire to put his hands around this weirdo’s neck. “But I mean what I said. What happened ... it was hard ... for both of us. But it’s also given me something good. I get the chance here and now to experience my children completely differently than many other families do. I feel like I can be a real father, where I’m always there for them and don’t send them away just because their crying sometimes makes my head explode.”
“And you think I buy that?” Gerhard’s voice shook, wavering between anger and despair. Emotions he wasn’t allowed to indulge in. One of them would make Angelico cry. The other would make Dali laugh. Perhaps. Probably.
“You can do that, or you can not.” With a shrug, Dali let out a sigh. Then he smiled, almost mockingly, before grabbing a strand of Gerhard’s hair and bringing it to his lips. The shallow kiss he pressed on the blonde hair flashed through his whole body. “I’m sure you’ll realise that yourself one day, Goldilocks.”
Without further ado, Dali took two steps back as Gerhard’s hair ran through his fingers and the world stopped for a moment. Saliva pooled in the blond’s mouth, running dry down his throat as his heart pounded violently against his ribs. Heat built up in his body, but didn’t reach his face. His every fibre seemed stiff, clinging to an unimpressed expression, hoping his friend wouldn’t notice.
Not the gentle trembling of his hands, nor the convulsive posture, which no longer seemed aristocratic, but childish and awkward. Gerhard could imagine how he must have looked in Dali’s eyes in those breaths and yet, when his friend turned away from him – were they even friends? – he dared to raise a hand. Only briefly, before he lowered it again and glanced at Angelico, who was still hanging on to his trousers.
Maybe, for one day, this feeling was okay. If he believed Dali’s words just a little, just this once, then he would sleep better this night – lulled by the warmth in his heart. Surely, somewhere between here and his own home, he would realise that all this was nothing more than an illusion. A fragile concept that would fade when he looked into his wife’s face – as he did every day – and realised she wasn’t Dali.
And then, at the latest, he would come to his senses, get upset about this idiot, have dinner and go to bed, only to return the next day, believing he wouldn’t succumb to his heart again.
He knew how it would end.
The result was always the same.