Third Person
Bar Haven: 2nd Floor (Orphanage)
Dripping sounds of his brother's wet hair annoyed him as he started to help him apply some foundation all over his body, Menthos looked at his brother's poker expression before dropping the cosmetic brush.
"Frère," he called, "Please just stop doing that job!" Menthos hugged him and hoping his bear hug would stop him from doing those bad things on stage. Those innocent eyes have witnessed that scene and nobody would ever like, what more a little child who does not know what happens below the cement floor of his room.
"My costume," Dione muttered before pointing to the sleeveless and buttonless vest neatly laid on his bed. Closing his fist, Menthos gathered up words to say to his brother.
"Frère," he called again but this time his voice cracked as he was a breach to the point of crying, "You don't have to do this because Momère wants you to..."
Dione didn't answer and just stared at his reflection in the mirror before finally pushing his brother's arms away from him and licking up his costume.
"If you're so concerned about me—" Furiously, Dione screamed at him before tossing the vest to the little boy who was trembling in fear while he tried to keep the tears from flowing, "Go on then! Wear this, get out there and work!"
Menthos hugged the vest in his arms as he bowed in front of his brother, his lips opened, and gasped for air before a meek voice came out from his mouth, "I'm sorry..."
"Ugh! Now you sound like her," exclaimed the teen. His eyes twitched as the image of his brother glitched and the thing he saw was Raine's angry face.
'Damn! That slap can spread through thousand neurons leading to your brain,' Dione thought and finally shook his head.
Rolling his eyes, Dione snatched his costume from Menthos before facing his back to wear it as he grunted when he picked up the fallen foundation blush on the floor. It was his only response to the extreme pain on his abdomen, traveling down his lower body, "You better get that out of your system or else you'll end up attracting monsters."
"And I'm too busy to save you from them..."— he continued his lecture while patching up the remaining visible bruises.
The little boy sighed and finally gave up breaking his brother's sturdy principle, "Then I'll save myself..."
"Of course save yourself," Dione teased and chuckled, "Now go to your room and sleep."
Before he stepped out of the door, Menthos wrapped his arms around his brother's waist and greeted, "Goodnight..."
Dione did not move an inch, but his wide eyes indicated that he was not used to the young boy's affection towards him. Nothing melted him before. And nothing will. After a few seconds"It's better if you don't wake up but for the sake of the euros I've been paying for your home school teacher— wake up anyway."
His brother left with a sadness he'll carry throughout his whole childhood. In a matter of seconds, Dione greeted one of his orphan siblings inside his room. Except this one has no similarities with him at the slightest. The girl aged 10 with curly ginger locks and a face full of freckles entered the room.
"Miran..."
He called her by her name as the girl stood there, alert and ready to take action to any command he'll give her. Miran waited and stared at his brother examining the bandage around his neck. Dione ran his fingers around it, feeling the soft fabric push on his fast healing wound.
"It seems that I can't wear this til' this wound wears off," Dione muttered and tossed the heavy golden chain necklace on his drawing desk before turning to Miran.
Unlike Menthos, the older female sibling was obedient and more submissive. It's one of the reasons why Dione chose her to be his dog sitter at night because she doesn't ask too many questions.
"You know the new dog, right?" Dione asked before pulling up his skinny jeans up to his waist.
She just nods.
He giggled as she smiled, making a thumbs-up as a response, "Make sure she doesn't escape, are we clear?" Dione confirmed.
Miran nods again.
...
And nods to everything he commands, "But take care of him..."
Miran smiled and nodded before helping his brother with a mauve colored hair spray. His perfectly white hair became a field of lavender flowers the moment he turned to stood up from his chair in front of the mirror.
"I know he's starving already," he chuckled goofily, "Two scoops of dog food. No more, no less."
Before closing the door, he had to inform the dog of good news which can tame it to be more obeying and loyal to its new Master, "Oh and tell him that I let his poodle go," Dione finally smirked and let the darkness loomed inside his room after closing the door.
"—Unharmed," he whispered, completely shadowed by the echo made by the door closing.
Miran doesn't ask too many queries. In fact, she doesn't ask at all. All she does was obey and improve every aspect of herself using her teacher and brother's criticisms. She wouldn't ask what was wrong with her drawing whenever she proudly shows it to Dione. She wouldn't ask where she had gone wrong on that Trigonometry exam last week.
She never asks.
She never asks why did his brother locked up another man inside his cellar door with all the other rotting bodies.
As she opened the rusty door on the other side of his brother's room while holding a glass of water and a bowl of leftover porridge, her eyes adjusted to the darkness where they revealed a severely injured man with green hair.
"It's time to eat," she smiled warmly and entered the room, pulling a certain lever to lower the series of chains connected to his wrists so, that he could eat with his blood-covered fingers.
It does add to the actual flavor, that's what Dione said.