At seven in the morning, Alexey was mercilessly kicked out of the house by his son. Still half-asleep, he stumbled on the snowy doorstep and almost fell face-first onto the asphalt—it had the merit of scaring him awake.
After steadying himself, Alexey heaved a sigh of relief; it had been a close one this time, and he had seen the ground from up close. Feeling somewhat wronged, he glanced over his shoulder at his son.
Why did Misha have to be so ruthless so early in the morning…?
Ignoring his father's puppy eyes, Misha stood in the doorway, a stern expression on his doll-like face. They stared at each other, and seconds went by until Misha lost patience and roared, "What are you doing?! Get moving, or you're gonna be late for work!"
Alexey's whole body seemed to jolt as if he had been struck by lightning. He then turned around and dashed to the car like a madman; if he were to be late for work, one of his colleagues would give Misha a call and tattle. Those traitors had long forgotten what camaraderie was, only knowing how to dot on his son.
Sometimes, Alexey felt deep regret, wanting to slap his past self for bringing Misha to the office. If he had known his son would conquer everyone's heart and use his colleagues to spy on him, he'd have left him at home—even if Misha had to spend the day alone. Anyway, this child was mature enough not to burn down the house in his absence. Probably.
In any case, what was done was done.
A few weeks ago, Alexey had to go to the company for an important meeting. It required his skills and couldn't be put off. However, his wife had died only a few days ago, and his daughter was still lying in a hospital bed. In those conditions, the idea of leaving his son in an empty house put him ill at ease. The tragedy was too recent, and he was afraid his son would do something he shouldn't.
Of course, he thought of asking someone to babysit Misha, but he didn't know anyone who could, and his deceased wife's family lived quite far away while his was in Russia. He could have asked Gabriel, but he was dealing with matters at home and thus couldn't come to look after his son.
With no choice left, Alexey decided to bring Misha to the company.
Everyone knew what happened to him on Christmas Eve and was very considerate. No one complained about the child's presence and smiled gently instead, treating him with extra care.
While Alexey was busy presenting their new mining project to a few affiliates, his colleagues took care of his son. Little did he know they would also exchange contacts because Misha said he was worried about his father. The boy wanted them to let him know how Alexey was doing. After all, his father tended to bottle up his emotions, and he was afraid he wouldn't say anything until he exploded.
If only that were all, Alexey wouldn't complain. But his son had become worse than an overbearing wife. Misha was indeed worried about his emotional state but also everything else that concerned him. What he was doing at work, what he was doing outside work; his son had to know everything.
Whenever Alexey was late to work, Misha would nag him all night, meaning he could say goodbye to his supper. His son supervised his schedule as a secretary would and strictly forbade him from drinking. The last time he bought a bottle of vodka, he was scolded until his ears were ringing; he even thought they would fall off at some point.
Sometimes, Alexey wondered who was the father and who was the son.
"Wait! Don't forget your lunch!" the boy reminded him as he ran to his father, stuffing a lunch box into his arms. "And don't cause problems for your colleagues."
"I won't." Alexey paused before adding, "Then, I'm off."
Misha responded with a snort and quickly went back inside, escaping the cold weather. He watched his father's car leave the driveway through the window, then veered to the kitchen.
Turning on the light, Misha took his apron and tied it over his pajamas. This morning, he woke up a little late, so he didn't have the time to change his clothes before storming into his father's bedroom. Like always, Alexey had snoozed his alarm clock in his sleep, and Misha had to kick him out of bed and help him get ready for work.
His mother had pampered her husband too much, and now that man couldn't do anything by himself, exasperating Misha a little more with each passing day.
While cooking his sister and Gabriel's breakfast, Misha couldn't help but grunt and complain, wondering if his father, who appeared very competent, wasn't actually an airhead. Sure, he was good at his job, but that was all! He couldn't do anything else!
Why did his mother fall in love with such a helpless guy…? Misha had taken care of him for only a few weeks, and he was already having terrible headaches. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if he also ended up with a stomach ulcer.
Although his father was not drowning his sorrows in alcohol, Misha couldn't help but feel nervous all day long, afraid that Alexey would pick up his past life's bad habits the moment he let him out of his sight.
For the time being, his father's mourning process was going well, mostly because of his constant pestering. But by doing so, Misha felt like a stalker, and it made him a little edgy. His temper flared more often, yet Alexey never said anything, only silently listening to his scolding. It was as if he had lost the ability to think for himself, becoming a child that needed to be led by the hand.
Misha sighed.
What could he do? He had already taken his hand, and he couldn't let it go now.
***
With a swift movement of his wrist, the boy skillfully flipped the pancakes before putting them on a plate and setting the table for three. Satisfied with the food and its display, he walked to the stairs and screamed, "Breakfast is ready!"
Soon after, he heard the wooden floor crack, and his sister appeared in Gabriel's arms, lazily resting her head on his shoulder. Her puffy, red eyes and messy hair let the child know she had just woken up.
Unlike Masha, Gabriel had changed his clothes and was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, having finished his morning routine a short while ago. A few water droplets were still hanging on his eyelashes, giving him a somewhat melancholic air.
Because Gabriel was sharing Misha's room, the boy took great delight in disturbing his sleep before waking up his father. Although Gabriel slept like the dead, it was still hard to remain asleep after Misha had stomped on his stomach a few times. The child was thin and small but not weightless. The pain tended to wake him up after a while, pulsing from his novel to his lower back. Then, rubbing his stomach, Gabriel would reluctantly leave his futon and quickly wash his face with cold water before waking up Masha.
This had been their daily routine for the past few weeks, and Gabriel had become used to it, although the faint pain in his stomach was still a little annoying. Nevertheless, he didn't show any displeasure on his face and instead smiled at Misha.
"Good morning," he greeted.
To which the boy responded with a sneer. Since Gabriel had started living with them, he never hid his dissatisfaction, always giving him trouble whenever he could.
Even if Misha had started to accept Gabriel, he had always been the stubborn one; he refused to ask for anyone's help, even though it was apparent he needed it. Taking care of the house, the cooking, the groceries, and so forth while also looking after his disabled sister was no easy task. Yet, Misha insisted on doing it alone; it was his job.
Though aware of this, Gabriel played deaf and helped with whatever he could. No matter how many times Misha chewed him out, he didn't change his mind, even moving in to nurse Masha around the clock. Let's see who was the most stubborn!
Thanks to this, Misha was in a foul mood all day long, feeling like his opinions were not needed nor wanted, which was the pot calling the kettle black. For all that mattered, he didn't pay any heed to Gabriel's arguments either, not listening to anything he said. If he had, he'd have realized Gabriel was simply worried about him.
It seemed like Misha had forgotten how bad his own health was. Who exactly had been plagued by fatigue and fever lately? Who ended up in the hospital a few months ago, scaring the hell out of them? Hm, who was it again?
With this in mind, Masha—and Alexey—had mandated Gabriel to look after Misha, whether the child liked it or not. No one wanted to see the boy collapse; if it were to happen, they didn't know whether their hearts could handle it or not.
Although with a bit of reluctance, Gabriel accepted to share Misha's room, quietly keeping an eye on him. By sleeping in the child's bedroom instead of the living room, he knew he'd be subject to the brat's pranks again, but what else could he do? The kid didn't know how to rest and stay still, much less take care of himself; he needed someone to monitor him. Or, more accurately, he needed someone to stop him before he destroyed his already poor health.
What a troublesome child! He should let the adults take care of things. But it wasn't something they could tell him, considering his temper.
Thus, after a week worth of arguing back and forth, Gabriel and Misha finally agreed on their respective chores. Since he had a driver license, Gabriel would buy the groceries and look after Masha while Misha was in school. Misha, in return, would cook and do the housework; he had formally prohibited Gabriel from entering the kitchen and doing anything related to house chores. The child even threatened to kick him out of the house if he dared to.
It was as if a disaster would befall them if Gabriel ever tried to cook or clean the house. Even if he had wanted to help, Gabriel could only yield. Otherwise, he feared the boy would follow through on his threat and kick him out—he didn't exactly want to become homeless yet!
Since then, Misha had been pouting and giving the cold shoulder to Gabriel, and this morning wasn't any different from the previous ones.
Gabriel didn't mind it, though. Instead of squabbling with the kid, he gently put Masha on the stairlift, fastening her belt. Then, he watched her be lifted down the stairs. He followed behind her and helped her transfer into her wheelchair, which had been left beside the stairs.
"It smells so good," Masha said in a drowsy voice, sniffing the air.
"Guess what's for breakfast?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
"Not telling!"
"Stingy!"
"Isn't it pancakes?" Gabriel said, interrupting their bickering.
"No one asked you!" the boy pouted before fleeing to the kitchen with a stomp of his foot. It made the two left behind shake their heads and sigh helplessly.
"Looks like you're being hated again," Masha chuckled, throwing her head backward to look into Gabriel's eyes.
"Hm? Isn't he just shy?" Gabriel winked, making the teenage girl laugh louder.
If that was what Gabriel wanted to think…!
__________________________
Chapter revised on 2022-05-26
Edited by Clozed! ♥
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