The Pretty Boy Next Door (BxB)

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❝ 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕗𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕕𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕤, 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕖, 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕣'𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕞𝕖. 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕖. ℙ𝕦𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤, 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕪! 𝕋𝕠𝕠 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕞𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕟𝕠𝕨, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖.❞ – Lost Boy Crow

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"Hello my son, I've been aware you've broken your promise."

My mind was blank as my brain couldn't quite comprehend what was in front of me. "What are you doing here!?" Yelled my mother. I still couldn't move. In front of me, was my father. A monster! Someone I haven't seen in years. To be honest, I thought he was dead at some point.

At least that was implied. "To good to speak to me, boy?" Oh that's right, an enemy. An enemy is in out territory-

"Mr. Stuart." I replied tersely. That's right, this man is no father to me. Never had been. Never will be.

He's a monster.

A diabolical son of a bitch.

"Mhm," He hummed with a smile as he walked  towards my mother's throne. He stood there in front of it in silence, still smiling.
Until suddenly he sat down and opened his arms wide in a hugging manner. His smile seeming to have gotten bigger.

Only it was no smile. But a baring of teeth. A growl crawled its  way up from deep inside my mother's throat.  "I suppose, you don't think of me as your father. Only as a man who striped away your childhood." He rested his face on his hand. "A monster."

I couldn't think. My mind is so very blank! It was as if I was in a state of nonchalance. Like my whole entire body including my mind, has become numb.

"Oh well, you have always been a mama's boy," he sighed. "But tell me, how has M been doing?" "You bastard!" Mom got in front of me as a shield between my father and I.

M,
My father's puppet. My father's conjuring.

Montreal,
my mother's son.

Montreal,
the break between M and apathy.

Montreal was my mother's. But M was my father's.

"Now, now, no need for slander." He stood up, waving his hand. "I'm only here because I heard you went under attack recently. Not only that," he side-eyed me. "But this one managed to get seriously injured." "We handled it. We can handle our own."

"Ah yes, of course." He sauntered back towards the throne.

"But that's not the point. The point is, a family reunion is long overdue. Don't you think?"

"You never thought of us as your family." His face became blank. "You're wrong, darling. You were always family to me." He glanced over to me. "It's just that he was your only family," he spat. "He is my son." "Right your son. Not mine. Well, Montreal isn't anyway."