He shut the cottage door after having a long talk with Carver about Ghost and how she was doing.
He also told him to let his father know he wouldn't be excepting the job.
Carver's brows had rose to an alarming height and he protested. No one had ever "declined a job" before.
He wasn't sure what was going to happen, but whatever happened he was ready for it.
He had told Carver he'd be back in for work in a week.
He opened the envelope out of curiosity. It was an easy job. He could work it under the pretense of getting groceries and be back before she knew what was what.
He'd been thinking about when he tossed the job in the firepit. Not because the idea of lying to her bothered him, but because he was more curious to see how his father would handle his insubordination.
He was damn well old enough to challenge his father for head ganster, respected enough even. His father must know that.
She watched him curiously as the envelope shriveled within the heat of the flames and turned to feather light burned crisps.
Part of him knew what would happen as he watched the paper catch.
Nothing good had ever come of him rebelling against his father. He touched the scar on his face as he leaned against the fireplace.
He remembered the first time he had been caught stealing. It wasn't the first time he had ever stolen.
*
He didnt particularly want to steal tonight. He wanted to practice his knife training with Esparrose. Esparrose was fun and besides that, he was good at throwing knives. He wasnt particularly good at picking pockets, but his father insisted that he learn it. He had said once 'knowing how to pick a pocket is essential to being a good street rat. Which is what you are my boy. When you need fed and there's no one else to take care of you it could come in handy.' He had paused before delivering some startling bit of information. 'Starting next year you'll work for your meals, or you'll steal them but it's time to grow up now.'
Scar hadn't completley heard the offhanded remark about how he was thirteen or somthing and needed to contribute. Mentally he corrected it, I'm eight, but he didnt say anything. It wasnt his place. Snakeeyes Sylvador then stepped out of marketplace stalls and stumbled infront of a carriage that was going around to pick up its master clutching his cane like a decrepit.
The carriage had come to a slow and a driver got down to scold him. Snakeeyes clutched his chest and stumbled into the road gasping. The driver went alarmed to help him and soon an entire crowd had gathered to see the commotion. Scar slipped off some of the more obviously exspensive jewlery. Soon a Nursara came running out to check on Snakeeye who was now sitting up waving people off. He slipped into a few of the pockets that looked heavier and grabbed a few things, and walked away with his pockets full as the crowd began to disperse.
His father had met up with him again in another half hour and taken the jewels and coin from him. He nodded at this and that a let him keep a few coins. 'Go ahead and spend them if you want. I'll see you back at home.'
Scar had pocketed the coins. He was saving up for a knife set. He had been walking home with his father when they saw a lady with glimmered skin and jewels lining her wrists and neck. His father had nudged him.
He remembered just wanting to go home. He was mad at his father for working on the way home and when it came time to pick the ladies pockets he pinched her. Her face had turned angry as she grabbed his arm and began yelling at his father.
He had told the lady he was trying to steal from her in hopes that she would do somthing about it. Maybe she would take him away. His father had made him apologize and had been all smiles, but when the lady had left he had gotten the beating of his life.
He remembered getting back to the slum and his head bouncing off the wall in front of the whole gang. He remembered trying not to cry as his father had beat him with that emerald walking stick he always carried. He remembered failing and in the end he had begged him to stop. Nobody dared get between them, and later Esparrose had brought him an icecream.
His arm had been broken for two weeks but other than that he'd remembered thinking he'd made it out pretty good. It was nothing like the time he'd made fun of his father in front of Rat and the other boys.
He'd been wrong though because later that night his father had been to visit him with a sharp little knife.
The smell of his breath had reeked of alcohol and cigars as the grown man had pushed him into the wall. Drooping into him with his full weight and then stumbling away;yelling at him to stand still. He had been still, he'd been frozen in terror. Hed carved up his face. A memory his brain slipped over. Unlike everything else he could not recollect this moment clearly.
Only the smell of blood and the taste of his own tears mingling with the blood stuck behind.
In the morning his father had barely remembered the incident but he'd finally been given a name. Scarface Sylvador.
*
A light touch on his shoulder.
His hand snapped up and grabbed her wrist. She gasped and he released her quickly.
"Sorry," he mumbled as she rubbed the tender skin.
"It's okay. Though, I was talking to you."
"Hmm?" He asked softly straightening away from the fireplace.
"I was just asking what you were thinking about. You had a strange look on your face." She whispered.
"Nothing. Just lost in thought about the brick inlay." He said softly. She didnt believe him but she nodded and went to the blankets by the fireplace. She picked one up and sat on the floor with it.
"I think it's a beautiful arrangment. Did you put in any of it." He glanced at her and smiled.
"I did actually. Although the cottage came with a fireplace. Most of the inner brick was worn and well... just plain ancient," he chuckled and she did too, "It was a full week worth of work for the replacement of the inside. I kept the original chimney chute, but the boddom and interior is all me."
"That was the part I thought was beautiful she smiled. She looked up and their eyes held. A blush crept over her face and she stood. walking past him to the bedroom.
" I'm gonna head off to bed." She took the blanket off as an after thought.
"Here." Their fingers brushed and he leaned toward her. There mouths were only a step away from eachother now he stepped closer and gripped the blanket with both hands.
"Thanks."
"Goodnight." She said quickly stepping backward into the room and closing the curtain with a smile.
"Goodnight." He whispered after her.