A young mother knelt on the sidewalk, all warmth and hushed tones, arms wrapped around her little boy. He was pointing at the storefront, hysterical, as she gently tried to usher him away. Freddy barely halted in time to avoid them and glanced up just as Larry got into the passenger-side of a vintage Mercedes parked about 15 feet away. His eyes slid over to the driver; ill-fitting suit, bad comb-over. It was Gus.
Larry had lied to him, either to protect Gus or to absolve him of any guilt. Then the realization hit; Gus only would have told Larry about his involvement if it had been absolutely necessary. The situation must have escalated.
The two men were turned away from him, completely unaware that they were being watched. He could make out their profiles as they argued with increasing intensity. Gus gestured forcefully and Larry exploded, face red and contorted in rage. He slammed his fists against the dashboard repeatedly until there was no fight left in him, then cradled his head in his folded arms, shaking. Freddy stepped back, terrified.
Gradually, Larry looked up and began speaking to Gus again. Freddy could just make out the side of his face. It was slick with tears. He'd seen Larry upset, irritated, melancholy... but he'd never actually seen him cry. The image was so disturbing that it made him light-headed.
The argument had ceased. Larry slumped against his window, utterly defeated. As Gus slowly pulled away from the curb, Freddy realized with a morbid finality that he'd never see Larry again. His knees weakened and his vision blurred, but he forced himself to sprint across the concrete.
He wasn't fast enough.
~*~
She couldn't help but blame herself. Olivia wiped the tears from her eyes and took a tentative sip of her wine, barely registering the taste. Freddy had been locked in his room for almost two days, disturbingly silent. Rufus had called when he missed a shift, and the lie had fallen easily from her lips: her poor kid was as sick as a dog, so sorry she hadn't had the chance to call and let him know, but she had more important things on her plate.
Cradling her face against her hand, she thought back to the moment she'd first met Larry. He'd been pacing in the lobby of Gus' office, broad chest filling out a striped button-down. She'd almost stopped breathing when he'd made eye contact and grinned, all dimples and mischief. Back then, if she'd really listened to her gut instinct, she could have predicted the outcome of things. It went against her nature to judge people based on generalizations, but in this case it probably would have saved her a load of heartache. Because really, why else would he have been there in the first place?
She didn't ask how Freddy knew that Larry wasn't coming back. What killed her more than anything was how close they'd been; the two of them had clicked in a way that she'd never seen with any of her other boyfriends. In spite of everything, she would always believe that at his core, Larry was a good man, and he would have made an excellent surrogate father. At least Freddy was older now. He could handle losing another paternal figure.
Re: Orange/White: Daddy Kink AU: Untitled (25/25b)
Larry had lied to him, either to protect Gus or to absolve him of any guilt. Then the realization hit; Gus only would have told Larry about his involvement if it had been absolutely necessary. The situation must have escalated.
The two men were turned away from him, completely unaware that they were being watched. He could make out their profiles as they argued with increasing intensity. Gus gestured forcefully and Larry exploded, face red and contorted in rage. He slammed his fists against the dashboard repeatedly until there was no fight left in him, then cradled his head in his folded arms, shaking. Freddy stepped back, terrified.
Gradually, Larry looked up and began speaking to Gus again. Freddy could just make out the side of his face. It was slick with tears. He'd seen Larry upset, irritated, melancholy... but he'd never actually seen him cry. The image was so disturbing that it made him light-headed.
The argument had ceased. Larry slumped against his window, utterly defeated. As Gus slowly pulled away from the curb, Freddy realized with a morbid finality that he'd never see Larry again. His knees weakened and his vision blurred, but he forced himself to sprint across the concrete.
He wasn't fast enough.
She couldn't help but blame herself. Olivia wiped the tears from her eyes and took a tentative sip of her wine, barely registering the taste. Freddy had been locked in his room for almost two days, disturbingly silent. Rufus had called when he missed a shift, and the lie had fallen easily from her lips: her poor kid was as sick as a dog, so sorry she hadn't had the chance to call and let him know, but she had more important things on her plate.
Cradling her face against her hand, she thought back to the moment she'd first met Larry. He'd been pacing in the lobby of Gus' office, broad chest filling out a striped button-down. She'd almost stopped breathing when he'd made eye contact and grinned, all dimples and mischief. Back then, if she'd really listened to her gut instinct, she could have predicted the outcome of things. It went against her nature to judge people based on generalizations, but in this case it probably would have saved her a load of heartache. Because really, why else would he have been there in the first place?
She didn't ask how Freddy knew that Larry wasn't coming back. What killed her more than anything was how close they'd been; the two of them had clicked in a way that she'd never seen with any of her other boyfriends. In spite of everything, she would always believe that at his core, Larry was a good man, and he would have made an excellent surrogate father. At least Freddy was older now. He could handle losing another paternal figure.