To be honest, it’s not a very good day to go to the park. The sky is overcast and the clouds are dark grey and heavy with rain just waiting to drench the city. There’s a sharpness to the wind that cuts through even the thickest of jackets.
The park itself is relatively lifeless, the trees are bare with the season, but the leaves are soggy instead of crisp. Instead of a pleasing crunch underfoot, stepping on them means slicking your soles and risking a fall.
Even the small flock of ducks, usually holding court by the pond at this time of day, have hidden themselves.
But you promised, so here you are.
The park is almost empty, barring yourself, of course, and the person you are here to meet.
People, apparently, as you take a glance at the pair in front of you.
“I really hoped it wouldn’t have come to this,” You say, instead of greeting them.
“Yes, well, shocking to all of us you are the least terrible option in this particular situation,” Your uncle, or some friend of one of your parents or some student of one of your grandparents, something like that, you’re not sure, replies with what you think is an unnecessary amount of extra syllables.
“Wow, all this praise might go to my head,” Your hands would twitch for a cigarette right about now, but you’ve decided to quit and anyway you don’t want to bother your uncle’s companion.
Your uncle’s companion who hasn’t said a word this entire time. You’re not insulted; apparently the kid hasn’t said a word to anyone in the past month so you’re not expecting much.
“You little shit,” Your uncle responds, but there’s no hostility in it. There’s a reason why your family sent him today out of anyone else, and it’s not because of his skill with children.
“You got any luggage?” It’s not that you’re hoping for a verbal response, it’s just that you think it’d be rude not to direct your question at the kid when it’s regarding his stuff.
“Just the backpack,” Your uncle tilts his head over at the stuffed red bag on the bench. The kid has a white-knuckled grip on one strap.
“‘Kay,” Because you can’t really think of anything else to say, “Let’s go then,” Then you start walking towards your car. The kid will follow or he won’t. You promised you’d let him stay with you, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to make him stay with you.
And anyway, he’s family. You really thought you’d gotten free of them.
~
A/N: Uh… again with the drabbles that don’t contain the actual words. So I guess this is… reluctant ex-mafia person taking in mafia child?
I don’t know what’s up with the second person POV–I’m surprised by it too.
JackSGreyson Says 