The Art of Gravity

TOBIAS MITCHELL

Samuel King sat on the couch next to Noah, both discussing what project they'd be doing for this year's upcoming science fair.

I thought it was really cute when Noah talked about something he loved. He eyes would sparkle, and he never stopped smiling when going over astronomy ideas with Sammy. He was such a geek, a fucking adorable geek.

My mother and I had moved in two weeks ago, her staying in the guest room and me with Noah. I had to fight to control myself when we slept together. He looked so fucking vulnerable, just laying there. I came so close once, but I managed to stop myself. I didn't want to taint him just yet.

He was so tempting. His pale skin, deep eyes, and unruly hair always managed to draw me in. It was insanity.

I looked down at the cast on my arm, the damn thing stopped me from going to Tom's. I hadn't made any money the last two weeks, or month even, really. I had been too busy with Noah, not that I regret it.

I planned to go to Tom's later to explain why I haven't been showing up. He'll understand once he meets Noah. No one can resist those eyes. I wanted to take Sammy along with us. I didn't really know him that well, I didn't make an effort to. But I wanted to show I cared, in some way or another.

I looked over at Noah. He's turning me soft.

I sigh just as my mother sets down a plate of cookies in front of us. Her thin hands were shaking, as was her whole body. She looked up, and smiled at me. I smiled back, because I knew that she was safe now.

Bruises and cuts were still scattered all over her body, but I knew that on the inside, she was healing, slowly, but healing nevertheless.

A knock, a very anxious knock at that, sounded at the front door, and Mrs. Andrews frowned.

Mr. Andrews looked over at her, "Did you invite someone over?"

Mrs. Andrews shook her head, looking over at us to which we shook our heads also. The knock sounded again, even harder.

Mr. Andrews walked over to open the door, and my blood ran cold. There he stood, looking absolutely fucking disgusting, a cruel smirk resting upon his dirty lips.

"Where the fuck are they? Huh? Where's the bitch and the brat?" He asked, trying to push his way inside. His eyes made contact with mine, a cold glare resting in them, before landing on my mother who was shaking horribly. He pushed his way through Mr. Andrews, his eyes trained on my mother.

I quickly pushed her behind me, glaring as his eyes met mine again. His nostrils flared in anger, fists clenching.

"Move out of my way, you son of a bitch." He spat in my face, the vein in his forehead protruding in such a way that it looked painful.

"Leave. Now," I growled back, pushing his chest. He stumbled, but gained his footing.

"You really wanna go there, brat? I'll lock you in that closet for fucking eternity if I have to. Your ass needs to learn a lesson, punk."

He made a move to punch me, but Mr. Andrews grabbed his fist, twisting his arm around his back.

"If you don't leave my property right now, I'll have you arrested for breaking and entering, trespassing, and assault, you mother fucker. And that's without the abuse charge." Mr. Andrews threatened.

Noah's mother gasped as she heard her husband curse, never have seen him do so before. Christopher struggled, but Mr. Andrews held his grip.

"Fine. Just get your fucking hands off of me."

Noah's father pushed him to the door, releasing him which caused him to fall to the pavement.

He got back up, wiping the blood from his lips, finding me.

"Your bitch of a mother was never a good lay anyway, you faggot."

"You're dead to me," I said, tone deadly. It was final. I was ready to erase him from my life.

Mr. Andrews shut the door, and Noah walked up to me, slowly, grabbing my hand. Mrs. Andrews wrapped her arms around my mother, who was bawling her eyes out, babbling. Her entire figure was trembling.

"Are you okay?" Noah asks, voice timid, and it broke me. Did I scare him? Was he scared of me?

I wrapped my arms around his waist, bending down to whisper in his ear.

"I'm so sorry, baby. He makes me angry, okay?"

Noah shivers as my breath cascades across his neck, but shakes his head.

"I'm not fucking afraid of you. I'm scared for you, not of you. I need to know if you're okay." He responds, his hands tightening on my shirt.

"I'll always be okay with you," I say, kissing the top of his head, looking over at Sammy who quickly looked away from us, a blush on his cheeks.

Sammy was adorable, no one could deny it. He was like a little puppy. Still, I had only eyes for Noah, my little star boy.

I pulled away from Noah, already missing his warmth, before taking his hands and pressing my lips against his flesh.

I could see everyone looking over at us fondly.

I smirked, "Let me take you somewhere. I want you to meet someone."