Through the Screen novel Chapter 90

"tea?" adrian mumbles quietly as abel settles down onto one of the dining chairs, trying to control his urge of clearing up noah's mess that's cluttering the dining table. abel nods, cheeks flushed and eyes carrying bags of worry, and watches as adrian gives him an apologetic smile and disappears into the kitchen.

he can hear the faint chatter of the television, and the low buzz of the centralised heating, and the clinking of spoons in the kitchen from where he sits. he prefers this over the haunting silence of his hotel room, loud traffic bustling in the streets below and the temperature remaining low no matter how much abel turns up the heat. this apartment, however, is flushed with a certain warmth—along with cold silences—but still comforting enough for abel to not feel like he is suffocating.

"it's not as good as you make it, but it's okay i suppose," adrian places the mug on the coaster and abel smiles at him half heartedly, afraid that if he'll open his mouth he might choke on the sobs that he's been holding back.

"are you okay?" adrian mumbles quietly, his small hands reaching abel 's shoulders comfortingly, and abel physically can't hold it back anymore, breaking down pathetically as he holds onto adrian, his cries muffled by the soft material of adrian's jumper.

"it's okay, everything will be fine," adrian doesn't know if he's convincing himself at this point, or his father who is trying to hold himself together in front of him. he has never witnessed his family being as anguished as it is right this moment—three hearts, and all of them broken in different ways.

"it's not, i messed up," abel 's voice is barely above a whisper, words unstrung and sentences unstructured and he sniffles pitifully into adrian's shoulder, pulling away and wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. adrian only stares at him morosely, picking up the mug of tea from the coaster and handing it to abel, who continued to sniffle, stretching his fingers around the warm glass.

"you finish this, i'll get you something to eat okay?" adrian's question sounded more like a statement and abel shook his head in response.

"i'm not hungry,"

"please," adrian sighed. "don't do this,"

"but i really am not hungry," abel protested, highly skeptical as to whether he will be able to swallow anything down in the presence of that giant lump of guilt in his throat.

"you will be in a few minutes," adrian ignored his plea, and began to make his way back to the kitchen when abel stopped him again.