The Perfect Act

Sanguinary

THE PERFECT ACT

Ten: Sanguinary

Ivar stretched at his desk, happy that he finally finished his homework. He fell back on his bed, took out his phone and replied to Olivia's awaiting message. His heart fluttered when he saw the message:

I miss you! Talk to me.

He quickly typed, adding how much he missed her as well.

"Ivar!" His mother's voice echoed. Walking down the stairs, he made a quick stop in front of the TV.

"Who's winning?" He asked, sitting on the arm of the single chair his dad occupied. "Springboks." His dad said before shouting happily at another touchdown their team won. Ivar pumped his fists in the air, happy with the leading team.

"YEAH!" He patted his son on the back proudly. "You can go play like that one day."

Ivar chuckled, shaking his head. "Mom wants a radiotherapist, you want a rugby player, should I ask Fitz as well?" He poked his dad's shoulder jokingly.

"Yeah, yeah." He said, patting his son's legs. "Whatever you do always makes me proud, my boy."

Fitz appeared in the doorway, knocking on the frame. "I would kind of like a rich CEO as a brother." He grinned widely, joining the men.

"Pffft." Ivar kicked in his brother's direction. "You're the one majoring in finance; you should give me the money."

"As if!" Fitz sniggered, jumping closer to put his younger brother into a headlock. Ivar let out a scream, trying to get out of the grip.

"Dad! Dad!" He shouted through the laughs, playfully kicking his brother.

"Boys." Their father groaned his eyes still on the game.

"What is this commotion?" Their mom stood with her hands on her hips. "I called you all long ago for dinner." She noticed the two boys still playing and took the dishrag from her shoulder, slapping the pair. They split immediately, trying to grab the cloth.

"Okay, okay." They chuckled and followed her to the kitchen.

"You too, Ben! You can pause the game." She called out to her husband, who replied with a groan but followed his family. They all sat down happily, immediately joining hands.

"Our Father in heaven..." Their father started to play, but Ivar was too distracted by Fitz squeezing his fingers tightly. He peeked through one eye and sent a kick to his brother's shin that immediately loosened the grip.

"Amen." They all said the word and dug in, eating every last piece while they talked about their day. They joked and laughed, ending the day like any other day.

Afterwards, the two brothers washed the dishes; Fitz handed each plate to Ivar to dry and put away. His phone vibrated, and he dried his hands, looking at the screen intensely.

"Is that Ailey?" Ivar asked mockingly, making kissing noises.

"Shut up." Fitz shoved Ivar's head away. His eyes were locked on the screen, a stern look appearing. "Can you finish up? I'll do all of it tomorrow." He bounded upstairs before receiving a reply.

"Ass," Ivar mumbled, continuing with the dishes.

When every drop was cleaned in the sink, he set the rag out to dry, shuffling up to his room. Ivar stopped when he heard whispers outside his brother's door, and knocked quietly. The door opened with a sharp glare and whispered words. "What do you want?"

He looked past his older brother and saw a sulking Arlen, his face red and teary. "What's up with him?" The arrogance was palpable. Ivar's question was nothing out of concern, instead, his face scrunched in repulsion. Fitz shoved his brother back a bit, looking in disappointment.