Stockholm Syndrome. [Boy×Man]

▶Chapter #9: Memory lane & retrieval.

Chapter #9: Memory lane and retrieval.

"Klause blumenthal-Adulersfügel, i do not wish to have a go with your attitude today. We need to be on time it is important business we must discuss." Gregory complained to his son, "the car is awaiting us." Hooking his fingers around the car door he pulled outwards as the click notified him it has been now unlocked.

Klause made his way down the brick mansion entrance stairway in black jeans with a t-shirt to match, a natural scowl sporting his facial features as he rooted his feet to the coal colored cement. "Why isn't jackov the one being force to endure this shït." The young teens strong accent was as thick as usual. Gregory could tell he hadn't been practicing on his english as he was told to. Whilst continuing to mumble incoherent words under his breath, "this straight bullsh-."

"Finish that sentence an you will endure pain on a physical level. As well as mental. As for your bruder[brother] jackov is with uncle gregor." Gregory stated, oblivious to klause eye twitch. Stepping aside he gestures to the opened back-seat door, "shall we?" Not having much choice, klause stepped in ducking his head from the roof an sat firmly on the leather seat. His scowl still remaining in place as the old man sat beside klause with his briefcase placed in his lap.

The three hour drive through the city to a street name klause seemed to let bypass his memory, felt longer than usual. "Kascha? You must hate me. Do you wish to disown me as a father?"

"Angry, yes. I could never hate you old man. But i wish to change this situation i am in. This is a new level of ridiculousness. Why must i be the one to-"

"We are here. It is business that we do, you an jackov know this well. I wish to ensure you both with as much knowledge about this world- our world of life as much as one could hope." Gregory admitted. Klause sighed irritable at the man. He cracked his neck on either side. The car doors opened simultaneously an they were greeted by security an patted down, klause flipped one of the guards his middle finger while his father remained speaking to the head guard of the four that surrounds them.

"Kascha." Gregory called him over before the boy started a fit an purposely killed one of the men on accident. Gregory knowing his sons' temper it was very possible. Klause stalked to the entrance of the old building estate as he walked next to his father, absent-mindedly mumbling in fluent german. Past the living room and in to a private hall the two were escorted by a butler with gregory's security behind klause.

After another minute of walking, a brown door came into view. Laughter peeking through an klause lips turned upwards gently. For two year's he had finally gotten use to that annoying playful laughter that use to drive him into wanting to kill on a daily basis. Though he would never confess to that. This played out how it usually did in the same occuring moments.

"Kascha. This is Mr. Sauveterre. Mr. Sauveterre. This is klause, my son." The man nodded respectfully an shook gregory's hand in a polite greeting. "Bonjour à vous deux.[Hello to you both.] This way please, he shall be a-uh moment i know he is excited to see you. Klause." Mr. Sauveterre said, making his way fully in the room. "He'll be right out." The man's english wasn't all that good but klause ignored it as he stood with his hands in his pockets tapping his foot impatiently. The men in the room left him completely alone as always and he just about yelled out before the bathroom door opened an a head peeked through. Klause remained faking naivety for his sake an soon heard the little feet padding against the white tiled floor. Just in time he turned around an snatched him up in his arm's with a glare set in place. "Why are you always trying to pull the same trick on me? You will not win you gör." Klause placed the boy on his hip as he made his way to a small fridge, sliding it open removing two pudding cups, both chocolate. "I'll trick you one day, kashie." The boy exclaimed, a smug grin set on his closed eye'd smile, laughing at the older male's irritant sigh. "What did i say to call me? It's Kascha. Not this kashie?" He mumbled.