No Title

I ran out of titles. After 130+ posts...you stop being able to come up with something to describe the weird mood you're in or what you're writing about. Then again, maybe "No Title" will describe this?




 His body was tensed as he stared over the table. His bright blue eyes darted about, yet they wouldn't meet mine. His tongue curled around the words he was saying with such great sarcasm I was slightly surprised. The long, dark, uneven bangs that fell into his brilliant blue orbs swished with every movement he made; and that was quite often. To spite his scrawniness, the boy was lithe and strong, and every emotion he was feeling was expressed through his movement; the anger, the fear, and the acknowledgement.
 I was vastly opposite. Arms crossed, I kept my eyes on him and tried to not waver. I didn't feel angry or even afraid. Just so, so guilty.
 For the record, I hate the feeling called guilt. I've done enough messing around and acting out in my life to fill the king's treasury with all my guilt-and there might still be some besides.
 The young man sitting across from me was like the final act in my commitment-lacking life. Oh, the curtains are far from closing; at least, if I don't die tomorrow or something like that. But this is the latter part, even if it could be a pretty long ending.
 The boy's eyes flash up to meet mine, furious.
 "I'm not gonna ask why, because that's just way too cliche."
 I nod.
 "That's fine; I really don't know why myself."
 "Good. So, do you know exactly what kind of torture to call this?"
 He didn't gesture at anything, but we both understood what he was talking about-his entire life, I had been shirking my duties. It was, rightfully, his time to take vengeance. I wanted to apologize, but would it really help? Not likely. Yelling at him like I had any right to was a bad idea; grovelling was even worse.
 "No."
 "Gosh...I would think you would have some smoother words than that after everything you've done."
 "I could say the same."
 Okay, so maybe I was pushing the sarcasm a little bit now. But who on earth did the little guy think I was?
 A lowlife, I guess. He might be pretty right if he were talking to me twelve years ago, but now? I like to think I've changed, at least a teensy tiny amount!
 "Wha-? Don't compare me to you! I might've stolen a little something here or there, or maybe some selfish noble's money once or twice, but I never, ever, ever even thought of doing what you have."
 I sighed.
 "Give yourself a few years, and you might."
 "Shut up. That isn't even funny."
 "I know. I'm telling you the truth."
 A pause as he took a few deep breaths to control his nearly boiling-point fury. We were sitting in a tavern, and there were people standing around. I cast an idle glance around the room. A man in the corner who looked slightly more than just shady, a silent father with his talkative daughter near us, and a young couple with a small baby. Each thing seemed to direct me back to where I was or where I'd been; the irony that always made me wonder if there were a way that someone was trying to make me more miserable.
 My attention snapped back to the business at hand as my young friend spouted off, "Do you actually think I want to be anything like you?! I've abandoned my life of thieving."
 "One likeness right there."
 He laughed scornfully.
 "The only reason you gave up using people is that..."
 "That I started feeling bad about it?"
 "Yeah." The blue-eyed fellow sniffed, defeated, but not about ready to admit it.
 "You know, I didn't 'use' your mother. The feelings we had for each other were mutual. There wasn't anything cruel or abusive in our relationship." I answered blandly, trying to not get as worked up as this boy was.
 "Except that you left!!!" He blurted, and all the heads in the room turned. I tried to give a sympathetic look before turning back to him.
 "Shhhhh...I know already. I made a bad choice; I realize that. But you also left your aunt. After returning and searching for your mother I would have been able to find you if you'd been agreeable...but I suppose it's in your blood. My parents couldn't find me for those years, either."
 The kid glared at me. "I'm not anything like you."
 I looked off to the side, "If you're not going to admit it, fine...I don't care. The point is that I came back for you. Do you want to come with me?"
 "No way. I would hate to ever be introduced as your son, much less live under your roof." He answered indignantly. He would never know it, but that thrust like a knife into me. I didn't want to hear that out of his mouth.
 "Alright. Well...here is the town," I answered, scrawling the location on a small scrap of paper. "That way, you will know where to find me. I come here to London every year to trade; you may come home with me then, if you wish. If not, a tradeship to Greece would get you there; though I would prefer if you wrote to me before you left so I would know where to meet you." I knew my instructions were probably lost on him, but he took the paper quietly and nodded.
 I stood up to leave; I had miles to travel before I could turn in for the night. As I exited, I felt a tug on the cloak I was wearing, and turned.
 There he stood, head bent, feet shuffling from side to side...not barefoot, like I remember him, but well-clothed. Acknowledging all this, it was still the same way of standing.
 "Peter...thank you."
 Letting the words sink in, I was surprised. I didn't have much experience with kids, and he was no exception, only that he was my own, whether I believed it or not. Stopped by the queerness of his gratitude, and the fact he used my first name, I had to ask, "why?"
 "B-because....that time...when you visited. Those men were going to hurt me. So...thank you for at least doing something respectable."
 I couldn't quite believe it, but I smiled anyway.
 He groaned, "Don't look like that! It's not as if I look up to you or anything...so go back to where you came from! Like you'll ever see me again; I don't care about where you live or whether you come back or not or anything." He finished, turning away and marching off, up the stairs of the inn and probably to his room where he friends were. I still smiled, even though I knew he would never be normal because of what I did.
 Heading out into the rain, I saddled my horse and rode away; the burden gone from my shoulders at last. Squinting in the downpour, I sighed as the curtain did close on my commitment free life, and hopefully opened to something new...something right.


So, a story I came up with while sitting around not doing anything...I hope it's good-no names were mentioned and that's a feat for me. =)