Chapter Two : Chilling Glances

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Chapter Two

Chilling Glances

Felix's POV:

Days like these I wish I had a coffee pot. Unfortunately I had opted to leave it and pack more of Michaels things to help make his transition a little easier. I'm regretting that decision now as my body has decided it was okay to only let me get three hours of sleep. The only upside to my lack of sleep being the work I had accomplished on my most recent painting of a large gray and black wolf howling at an eclipsed sky. I'm not sure how much of an upside it really is because I know I will never bring myself to sell it. The wolf was from the only good dream I've had since being in this town. Growing attached to my art was a bad habit but one I had yet to break.

I made a check of my mental TO DO LIST and sighed. Today is going to be a long day.  Not that the last few hadn't, but with Michael in school now I could finally get some work on the house done without having him in the work zone.

The only progress that had been made was the kitchen, bathroom and Michael's bedroom at this point. The lack of progress was not from lack of trying, rather it was from a lack of time and lack of willingness to feel more pain than necessary while I let my body heal from the nightmare I had gone through. Pain or no pain though, it was time to get some work done and the first step would be finishing up the remainder of the work on our little home and restocking the kitchen and household items that I had neglected to get thus far.

I glance out of the front windows and notice the sun is starting to rise, just barely peeking over the tops of the trees in the distance. It will be time for Michael to wake up in about an hour, so I set off in search of our clothes. I love my work but I am not willing to spend my day in my painting smock while cleaning and shopping.

I locate our bags without much difficulty and pull out Michael's clothes before grabbing what I need and heading toward the only bathroom in the house. I open the door and flick on the lights while trying to ignore the smell of the bleach I had used to thoroughly disinfect every possible surface a germ had to grow on. Quickly and without a glance in the mirror, I strip from my smock and underclothes and jump in the shower for a quick rinse to get the night sweat and paint off of my body.  I climb out, dry my self off and throw on the clothes I picked out after a quick check to make sure none of my healing injuries need to be bandaged. I had settled with some dark washed jeans and a dark grey fitted t-shirt. I de-stankified myself with some deodorant while trying to ignore the fading black and blue bruises that littered my arms. With most of my body safely covered in clothing, I look into the streak free mirror and sigh.

My face had grown slightly thinner than it used to be and my once lively blue eyes looked dead. The bruises on my face had all but faded and all that was really left to the naked eye was a half healed cut just below my left eye and the bags from my lack of sleep. Damn nightmares.

I could hear rustling form the living room where Michael's bed was temporarily set up while the paint on his bedroom walls dried. I quickly ran my fingers trough my slightly too long auburn hair before going to find my son.

I stepped into the living room and found a sleepy eyed Michael sitting up hunched over. He looked up when he heard my foot steps and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Mornin Daddy, what's for breakfast?" He asked, his voice still sleep filled.

"How does Pancakes sound? With blueberry syrup?" I questioned, lifting him into my arms and hugging him to me ignoring the sharp pain as his knees dig into my bruised abdomen.

He rests his sleepy head on my should and mumbles out, "Yummy."

I carry him to our kitchen and set him in his chair before heading to the cabinet to get started on my baby boy's favorite meal. I hum as I quickly mix together the ingredients and pour the first few onto the hotplate to cook.

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