Who knew a tipsy Athena was a sentimental Athena.
"Yehezkel", "I love you" "I love with…", "I love you with all my heart"
…
2 minutes later.
"God I fucking hate you -Fuck", "Mom can't just shut up about you every fucking time" … "Why don't you be more like Yez, so delicate, so intricate, mysterious" she babbled by each sip down her throat.
Yehezkel watched her with a smile.
Amused at how expressive she could be -not that he was unaware of the dramatic nature of his sister, but the extent, he was ignorant.
The dim lights warmed the room and although windows were barely hinted, his skin cooled with an overwhelming calmness on his nerves. He was happy, satisfied, grateful and most especially, sleepy.
And yet, Athena had a lot left unsaid.
The steady smile across his lips numbed the strain on the muscles in his cheeks as he replied with a small hum to every story he barely heard from across the table.
He enjoyed the moment, so much so that he refused to succumb to the drowsiness of each passing sip from his glass. He remained silent as he adored his sister, hummed when needed, gave a nod when required and smiled wider from time to time.
"Ah!" Athena squeaked.
Yehezkel sat up quickly like he had been caught mid doze.
"It's 4:00 am"
"Then we must leave" he stood -too quickly and stumbled. He grew shocked at his actions as Athena paced over to him, aiding him up by the arm. "Thank you"
Together, they gathered their things and before leaving, he stretched an open palm behind him awaiting her grip only to smile with a small satisfied sigh when her fingers entwined in his. Somehow, it felt like he had won over Theodore.
Yes, immature.
Athena quickly dialed their chauffeur as they stood in the lobby, Yehezkel crunched forward into his overcoat his free hand buried in the pockets while his feet bobbed like an impatient, freezing child.
He wasn't cold, he was drowsy beyond belief.
No matter how Athena paced about, his fingers remained adamantly in hers leaving her only room around him to step hastily.
The pair stood silently but the air was different, less excruciating than when they had first walked in and Yehezkel felt bubbly inside but concealed his smile in the collars of his overcoat.
Who knew a tipsy Yehezkel was a childish Yehezkel.
One who felt so happy to reconcile with his sister, one who felt like he had won an invisible war, a war so substantial he had imagined every inch. One who felt so loved and moved by little gestures.
He chuckled at his behavior before falling asleep for a second on his feet.
"Yez" Athena patted him and watched his head rise softly, eyes searching the room lazily before falling on her. "Let's go home"
Slowly, she aided him into the car before settling beside.
"Wake me once we arrive" he snuggled comfortable unto her shoulder, "I barely stay up late, God knows" yawn "I'm amazed you can still stand"
She chuckled.
It was a product of her late-night endeavors, with girlfriends, business partners and most of all, Theodore.
At the thought of him, she let out a sigh.
For some reason before the trip, she saw herself busy with work so much so that it took her by storm when she realized that she hadn't told him about the impromptu journey.
She glanced at the blank screen of her phone, debating within herself.
Slowly, she pressed down and watched the screen light up, her breathing subconsciously slowed at the sight of a certain text.
Theo// (I know you've been busy but is everything alright?)
Athena exhaled as she realized her unsteady breathing. The text had been sent a little while at dusk and that was hours ago.
Could she possibly reply now?
It was late and without doubt, he was in bed with his wife.
Yes, his wife.
Athena leaned back against the chair and bit down on her lips.
The truth was always bitter to the soul, so was the flood that built on the back of her eyes. This wasn't the time nor the place she reminded herself, glancing over to the still head on her shoulder before firming her lips and shutting her eyes.
…
Yehezkel wasn't asleep.
-No, he wasn't attempting to eavesdrop.
Earlier on as he adjusted himself into the comfort of Athena's shoulder, he did fall into a light slumber.
He felt every indecisive moment of his sisters' arms mindful of the weight he placed on her and just when he was about to trail off, the screen of her phone lit up.
A split second from his lips parting to oppose and nag for her to shut off the phone, his gaze softly stumbled on a certain text and every trace of drowsiness vanished from his eyes leaving his body in a paralysis of fatigue -and disappointment.
Exhale.
He calmed himself -like he always did.
It wasn't anger, annoyance or the direct urge for judgmental irritation that he felt in that moment a confusion of how the blood sibling who had been cultivated in the finest things of life saw it fitting to settle for less.
This fact left a certain distaste among his principles.
Slowly, he let out a sigh as he feigned a sleepy stretch before sitting up and checking on Athena.
It wasn't an impossible probability that Theodore had whispered sweet nothings to her all the while painting a certain image of him, Yehezkel in her mind.
He scoffed at the thought.
Why was it somewhat funny?
This was a valuable chess piece in the hands of Theodore Lanes, a smart man, old nonetheless.
Athena Fionn.
The bubbly heiress with a fantastic taste. The key to socialite groups.
Warm hearted, easy going, dramatic and sometimes so irrepressible she convinced every person who gazed upon her that she could do and get whatsoever she desired. Magnetic.
Now the funny part.
It amused Yehezkel, the scenario of Theodore attempting to create a rift between them.
Why? What made this young man so confident.
Well, Yehezkel Fionn wasn't just a man who on the surface graced himself with a responsible façade but a brother.
No, not a friend nor a mere family member, not a fan -no, not an observer nor a bystander.
He was much more and it was his duty to remind them both of their place, their roles and most importantly, their identities.
Inheritors.
Inheritors of wealth, built along years of hard work.
Inheritors of status, an ideal to our name crafted with logical precision.
Inheritors of power, efficacy subjected to our will according to desire for merits necessary.
And Responsibilities -yes, inheritors of responsibilities.
That indeed was the meaning of the name Fionn, the name that didn't belong to just about any man. The last thing he would do is watch his beloved toss aside dignity for insignificance.
…
It wasn't bright out but Cathalina rose from the comfort of her sheets.
A morning jog seemed fitting.
Steadily she put on some sports wear before heading out of her room aiming for the entrance door.
At the back of her throat came a small itch and she could tell that ignoring that itch would leave her in a dry throat mid run and so she headed back into the house, towards the kitchen area and over to the refrigerator.
A small sip and she felt refreshed only to feel a small instinctive urge to head over to the left wing (West wing for the guys).
At the corner of her eye, she noticed the door to Nick's room slightly ajar, inflating her curiosity as she moved closer.
The sight shocked her.
On a small corner of the wall were pictures of an older man. Some faint, some clear but what puzzled her the most were the red markings on the pictures like a messy attempt to pinpoint things.
Most of all, dart pins dangling stiffly like it was supposed to hold up the pictures but she couldn't quite tell.
"Curious"
The hairs on Cathalina's nape rose instantly at the whisper from the lips pressed close to her ears from behind, she turned at the sound of the voice to see a figure illuminated dimly by the streak of a warm, dull light from the room.
"Nick?" she called out, recollecting herself and squinting forward.
"Someone's nosy" his cranky voice seemed to suggest that he had barely slept.
Cathalina looked closely at the figure and as soon as she met his eyes something in her stomach turned, like subtle fear her breathing paused.
"Did you sleep last night?"
He scoffed "Aren't you supposed to be explaining yourself?"
Cathalina exhaled to relax before clearing her throat "I came out to have some water before I leave for a morning jog and saw your room slightly open" slowly, she turned, heading at his room "What's that about?"
He stretched upward as if peeking into the room obliviously "Curiosity killed the cat" he met her gaze "Don't be the cat".
Their eyes sat still in what seemed like a suffocating second before she watched him look away as he walked past her and into the room "Let this be the last time" he shut the door.
Like a trance, Cathalina stood still in the chill of the stiff air.
'Huh?'
It felt surreal, the dark corridor around her, lit by a distant glow of the cetacean blue skies outside.
'What?'
She began on her feet towards the entrance door.
'What just happened?'
She pondered hard.
...
Nick had often been a playful, calm team mate. He made it clear when he didn't like something and was precise irrespective of how playful he portrayed himself to be.
'Why did this offend him?'
They were close enough to talk about a lot of things but suddenly this?
'What about it made him so sensitive?'
Cathalina stepped outside the gate of the house and inhaled, the air was cold, it seemed to her that rain would come by soon.