Chapter 3 | The captors

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The comments really dropped in the last chapter :( are you guys bored? Did you lose interest in the prequel? :( *cries in the corner*

Chapter 3 | The captors

Dominic was just eleven when it happened.

Too young, too fragile, to handle the lowest treachery of destiny; the cruel kind that would prey slyly behind a corner, watching, waiting with the widest conniving grin, before finally pouncing forwards when least expected—when everything seemed so impossibly perfect—because it liked to shock people like that. It got Dominic well. Too well.

He sat slumped on the couch that day, his head lolled back lazily and his arm dangling off the armrest. If anyone looked at him from afar they'd laugh at how he seemed like a grown up rotten from work but in reality he just hadn't slept well, partly because baby Lou really liked to show off his vocal skills at night and partly because his thoughts always turned hyperactive after midnight.

Dominic thought he was graced with the privilege of rest for a second, only until he heard an unmistakeable whine emit from Lou. His chest lifted and dropped in a hopeless sigh, because he knew that whine was the warning of upcoming sobs, before he forcefully pulled himself forwards with reluctant movements like a machine that needed to be oiled. Any other person disturbing his sleep would've received quite some colorful words, but Lou was a different case.

"What is it now, Lou?" He murmured to himself more than to the eight-month-old baby, slowly trudging forwards until he was by the crib with his elbows propped against the railings. The whines stopped for a moment and Lou's wet lashes fluttered cluelessly at his brother a few times. Then, his face puckered again and his dusty brown brows dropped like he was saying, don't just look, hold me! "Come here, don't cry. Anything for you, señor."

A fond smile betrayed Dominic's flat voice and the unamused expression on his face. He was tired and he wanted to sleep so desperately but Lou never failed to pull at the frayed threads of his dull emotions. Lou warmed his heart in a sense no one else could. Dominic wasn't an emotionally raw person but every damn time baby Lou's fingers would latch around his index so tightly, like he trusted him more than anyone, he'd feel something in his chest. Warmth. Rare for an insensitive child like Dom.

Dominic reached out to pick him up, well aware that his mom wouldn't exactly approve because, "He's barely a year old, Dom, you need to be very careful with him."

Of course Dominic would be careful with Lou. Of course he wouldn't drop him. He was his little brother. But his parents never felt too safe about it, maybe because Dominic wasn't exactly a typical eleven-year-old competent of being given the freedom to handle a fragile baby.

And to some extent, Dominic really wasn't. Sometimes he would be a bit too angry, others a bit too bitter, a bit too reckless. Always teetering off the axis of norm, leaning towards more or less but never balanced. He had mood swings. People called him spoiled. Maybe it was just his nature and engraved in his DNA but there could be no denying to the external factors which had fed the blemish of his personality since very early youth until it became this noticeable. He wasn't spoiled; he was lonely. He'd been left.

He always felt lonely until baby Lou came into the world. It had been a day-night change for him; somewhat fascinating, to have a little brother. All the careless behavior would diminish around Lou completely but his parents didn't seem to fully trust him on that.

Lou quickly became quiet and content as soon as he was cradled securely in Dominic's arms. It was odd how gentle Dominic was with Lou compared to how inconsiderate he'd always been with other kids and typically everyone. Anyone would be surprised to see the shift of behavior which was simultaneously odd and endearing, weird yet understandable.

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