The man walked up to the set of apartment buildings seamlessly. It was always better to appear inconspicuous when you were, in fact, being conspicuous. He wore casual dark jeans and a t-shirt, with his hair messy and awry. Even being that it was so late at night, he looked like any average college student coming home after a wild party or study session.
He slipped between the buildings, glancing this way and that at the different numbers. The trees swayed with curiosity at the passing stranger and the alleycats slept unknowingly. He eventually made it to the twelfth building on the lot and he moved up the stairs to the second story.
Finding the spare key was simple enough. Apartment buildings only gave you so many options for hiding places and the woman's potted plants were a pretty obvious choice. He found the key and entered the apartment, being sure to close and lock the door behind him. Then, at his own leisure, he started to wander around and look at things.
Bedrooms were a no-go, being that it would be intrusive to go through such a personal space. However the man had no qualms with helping himself to the contents of the fridge and a comfortable armchair in the sitting room. He'd landed on one of the malt sodas they'd enjoyed in their youth, surprised that she still drank them.
He vaguely recalled conversations where she had been in a reminiscent mood, but generally it wasn't something he knew Asia to do. Whenever they spoke, her topics stuck closer to the family business and whether or not he was keeping his efficiency high. She was a very practical sort of person. The movies at the bottom of the television stand betrayed that of her, he observed.
For starters, she kept only three movies of each of the few genres she fancied. The first three were horror. The second three psychological thrillers, and the final three romance. The man eyed the first two genres with an innocent humour. Though the last one surprised him. His sister had never been a romantic. No holding hands on the playground in the comfortingly cool summers. No staying up late whispering confessions through the phone.
To find Asia in possession of such things was preposterous in Adriel's mind. Just as he started to ponder other ways she could have changed through the years, the front door fiddled behind him. The man contemplated getting up, perhaps in preparation of explaining himself. The room was dark and she'd yet to step in yet, only just having opened the door. But instead he stayed planted firm on the blue leather soda in the mismatched furniture cladden sitting room.
The woman walked in unassumingly. She set the keys in the dish of trinkets atop her kitchen's island counter and kicked her shoes off, bending over to scoop them when her eyes lazily scanned the home. They swept the studio apartment routinely and she turned to set her shoes down on the rack. She then halted her movements, snapping her eyes back to the couch and onto the hooded figure. Quickly, before any sort of words could be exchanged, she had grabbed the closest heavy object from her kitchen counter- a glass bowl- and chucked it at the stranger. Adriel instinctively pushed an arm in front of him and ducked, causing the bowl to fly just past his nose and narrowly avoid shattering against her thick woollen carpet.
"Asia!"
The woman had already armed herself with the second heavy nearby object when he rose, putting two hands before him in surrender. She registered her own familiarity with the voice briefly as she lifted the toolbox, ready to throw it if necessary.
"Asia, it's me."
The figure pulled back his hood to reveal a head of light blonde locks and two shiny blue eyes. She blinked at him twice, slowly letting her hands lower, but holding tight to the weapon. When she fully snapped out of the shock, her hands shook like leaves in the wind and her eyes watered. Her feet moved on their own until she had crashed into his chest and crushed him closer to her. Adriel struggled to capture a breath until she let her arms go a slight bit slacked around him. She scanned his face desperately, soaking in the sight of him.
"You're alive."
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"So you knew."
The woman froze at his words, tensing against him. He made no move to unwrap her from him but his tone was still very obviously sharp. Her curling locks went stiff and she refused to turn her eyes up to his face.
"Then do you know why?"
Asia pulled away from her brother as though the question would burn holes in her skin and wrapped the colourful cardigan tighter around herself. Adriel watched her analytically, searching for any slight glimpse of explanation.
He couldn't figure anything from the way she stood. Her arms were crossed so he knew she was nervous and she couldn't look him in the eyes so he knew if she did tell him anything, it'd be a lie. The young man ran a hand through his hair, frustration slowly getting the better of him.
"Asia, look at me."
She moved towards the kitchen, setting a kettle on the stove. Adriel followed unyieldingly, taking a seat at one of the kitchen's barstools. When the water was set to start boil, she finally turned to face him, arms still crossed and brows drawn in an expression that was unfamiliar to him.
"It was dad."
Her words were quiet and her blue eyes betrayed no sense of certainty. Adriel nodded his head at her words but he'd already known.
"Yes, it was. But why?"
Asia's face faltered, eyes drifting from his face to somewhere off beside his head. She couldn't tell him. Whether she said out loud that she couldn't tell him or not was irrelevant, he knew his sister well.
Adriel sighed deeply, rubbing a tired hand across his face and allowing his expression to darken. He leaned forward in the chair and locked eyes with her completely.
"Asia, our dad just tried to have me killed, and you won't tell me anything?"
She flinched at the words before her brows furrowed in anger. She opened her mouth to retort when the kettle started hissing behind her. She hissed back at the object before turning away from him and angrily finished preparing the tea.
When she turned back, she handed him a cup with a lid on the top and held her own mug between her thin hands. He eyed her confusedly as she drew her jaw in a tight, cold sort of way.
"I don't know anything about it, Adriel. It's late. You should go."
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