𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐩 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐕𝐈𝐈

Bianco sat in his seat in the ᴡᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀᴠᴀɴᴇ ᴄᴀғᴇ & ʙᴀᴋᴇʀʏ, a hand on his lap and the other arm draped across the back of his seat. Despite his leisurely position, he had never felt further from his image.

"How did you find me?" he asked softly, menacingly and coldly to the man in gold sitting in front of him across the small, square, wooden table for two. He had a distrustful frown on his dark face. The warm glow coming from the glass display of treats behind the young Siren starkly juxtaposed his icy aura.

"Morning Song community misses you. I miss you." his Father explains, his voice low, affection laced through that deep, pleasant, sultry sound though he didn't smile. One of his gold sleeved arms was placed leisurely on the table in front of him, but his tone suggested otherwise. 

He had taken his scaly golden coat off, leaving him in his luxurious, loose golden shirt. The man fluttered his long, dark, slender fingers before elegantly placing his other arm backwards, though not far enough to lean on the back of his chair. 

Looking at the tall, lean man with thick, luscious slightly curly raven-black hair, slightly slicked back- longer than his own short cropped fuzzy hair, rich, smooth, chocolate skin, and teasing, taunting pale sky-blue eyes, Bianco wanted more than anything to escape his presence. The man looked exactly the same as he remembered from all those years ago- a lot younger than his actual age. 

More like a teenager than an adult. Thought Bianco sourly. Might explain his ways.

"And by community, you mean cult?" Bianco returned tartly, the frown deepening on his face as he raised his thin, black eyebrows when he spoke the last word.

"We are a personal development movement that helps people take control of their lives." his Father continued, unfazed, in that same sultry, gentle tone, his voice becoming softer as he neared the end of his sentence. It had always made Bianco uneasy, and he could feel that disgusting feeling creeping up against him once again. The man placed both his arms on top of the wooden table and leant closer to his son as he spoke.

Bianco's lips curled upwards sarcastically during his Father's explanation. "After you take control of their bank accounts." his voice was cool and detached as he narrowed his sky-blue eyes before widening them and lifting his eyebrows once more.

"I haven't come here to fight, Michael Jackson." The man's voice went a tone deeper as he closed his eyes before opening them again, his sky-blue eyes gaining intensity, the same sky-blue eyes he had passed down to his son. He smiled.

"My name is Bianco." The young Siren leaned forward, his voice rising slightly in rage. "New name. New life."

"Does this additional rebelliousness have anything to do with that pretty little thing with the golden eyes? Misaki, was it?" the man smirked as he drawled.

"You know nothing about her." Bianco snarled back icily, his voice rising dangerously.

"Oh, I know more than you think." Gabriel drawled back lazily.

"As if I'd believe anything that comes out of that mouth of yours." his son sneered back.

"I just don't ever see the charm in that orphan, so obedient and submissive. I would've thought you'd prefer a girl with more of a...challenge. What happened to Xaviera?" 

The man could see that he was riling the boy up, but he didn't stop. The taunting smirk played on his darkly handsome face.

"Oh so you've been keeping tabs on me have you? That's a new low, even for you. As if you knew how to judge a woman's character." Bianco's deep voice became low and menacing.