Idiosyncrasies of a Shadow...

By Galagoogoo

96.5K 6.6K 5.1K

This is Book 1 of the Shadow Series ~ Placed First in the LGBTQ+ Romance category for the Eminence Awards. S... More

Introduction
Characters
Prologue
~Chapter 1~
~Chapter 2~
~Chapter 4~
~Chapter 5~
~Chapter 6~
~Chapter 7~
~Chapter 8~
~Chapter 9~
~Chapter 10~
~Chapter 11~
~Chapter 12~
~Chapter 13~
~Chapter 14~
~Chapter 15~
~Chapter 16~
~Chapter 17~
~Chapter 18~
~Chapter 19~
~Chapter 20~
~Chapter 21~
~Chapter 22~
~Chapter 23~
~Chapter 24~
~Chapter 25~
~Chapter 26~
~Chapter 27~
~Chapter 28~
~Chapter 29~
~Chapter 30~
~Chapter 31~
~Chapter 32~
~Chapter 33~
~Chapter 34~
~Chapter 35~
Epilogue
Thank You
Process of Development
~Bonus Chapter~

~Chapter 3~

3.1K 270 153
By Galagoogoo

[Roman]

*~*~*

I am a shadow.

I am one that was never meant to exist, but

I still do.

I see, but was never seen,

I love, but was never loved.

I crave to be cared for.

I wish, that one day;

I would have someone look behind them. And see that –

I am not just a shadow.

*~*~*

"I want a... French braid!" Paris giggles, positioning herself between my legs and patting my chest eagerly.

With a kiss to her forehead I turn her around and start taking her hair in my hands and doing it up in a tight braid. I look at the post card on the table.

Dear Paris,

Japan is really fun! I hope we can bring you here some time! We sent a box of sweets and a hello kitty plus. Hope you like them.

Love,

Mama and Paps

I read the letter out with a clenching pain in my heart. Maybe I'm 26 and I'm independent, but the least a parent can do is acknowledge me as your child. But no, I'm not their 'ideal' kid. Whatever, idealism means in their heads. Perhaps just the fact that I'm not a planned child.

Therefore, I get no mention.

"OH! You can have this one." I take the small box of dark chocolate, "You like it, right?"

No, I like milk chocolate.

"Thank you. Now get ready to go to school, we are taking the long way today." I wrap the pink hair band around the bottom of the braid.

I only say it because I don't want you to taste the bitter.

~

I notice something has changed about Paris' school since last week, there are balloons and decorations splattered across the grass fields and the interior of the school. Quite a grand event happening I would assume.

"Paris?" I ask looking her hand that's holding my index finger. Her attention turns to me, I kneel down so my eyes are somewhat level with her. "Do you like the school?"

She's only recently swapped schools, even though its way more expensive than her old one, she didn't enjoy her old school. Therefore, it is up to me to transfer her, instead of the pair of parents who do nothing good for their children. I might as well take full custody of Paris if I'm being honest.

"Yeah! My teacher is so nice! He gives me the strawberry stickers whenever I do my homework well!" Her giggle tells me only truth is coming from her. I let my resolve thin at the sight of my baby sister being so happy. We are 23 years apart, but that doesn't stop me from being a big brother, I really try my hardest but sometimes, cynicism takes the cake.

My heart aches whenever she smiles. I can make her giggle and smile, but she will never laugh as much as the time she had spent with her parents.

I am, after all, just a mistake.

"Good. Now go and have fun." I pat her arm lightly.

"Good morning Paris! How are you?" It is the same teacher from last weekend. Short, very tiny. He looks... weak.

But his smile;

It holds the power to snap me in half.

"Good morning Mr. Perry! How is your morning so far?" His tiny hands extend to greet me.

It feels good – 

"Eventful. Thank you." I take his greeting; his handshake is firm as any, despite his dainty size.

"That's great! Oh right." He pulls out a stack of cards, decorated with sharpies. It looks like each one is personalized. He holds out a card to me. Paris' name scribbled in neat handwriting. Unicorn stickers and strawberries drawn, he went as far as writing the invitation in rainbow colors. Under that is my parent's name and then, mine.

It feels different –

"It's an invitation to the school fair going from next Friday to Saturday! There will be games and shows, food and lots of other things!" He says excitedly to Paris.

Then he looks up. Straight into my eyes, his deep blue, almost violet, eyes that slice through my strong resolve, not caring one bit about the unreal height difference.

It feels... warm –

To be acknowledged.

In the sincerest and most hopeful voice, almost like an angel resuscitating a coding patient. "You'll come too, right?" A small frown on his eyebrows.

A frown that is capable of smashing a skyscraper.

"Umm... Sure." I breathe out, barely above a whisper, fighting back the urge to ask him why. Why pay attention to me?

"Then it's settled! See you soon Mr. Perry!" He giggles heartily and spins around taking Paris away and greeting another parent on the way in.

He's so small and tiny.

Doesn't make sense that his smile is like the sun.

Even less that his heart is bigger than the sun itself.

~

I own a sport equipment rental shop, its growing exponentially since our shop is quite literally purged on the edge of a lagoon, and within 10 minutes you can walk down to the beach. So we are pretty popular.

I sit silently, watching as a groups of girls walk in, greeted by my friend/ employee, Melissa. "Good afternoon, how may I help you?"

They giggle and one turns to me, "I'd like to know your number."

Mentally, I gag. I might be the farthest thing from those bullshit gay stereotypes, but I am definitely all for the hot dogs and not the tacos.

"Hon, don't bother unless you're in drag." Melissa calls from the other side of the shop, organizing the display cases. Johnny, her boyfriend chuckles from the office as he handles the finances. "Actually, don't bother at all."

The group doesn't seem fazed, obviously they don't believe it. "Snorkeling, surfboard or...?" I ask in the kindest voice I can muster at the moment. This is just beyond awkward.

"Umm... we want to try on the skates. For when winter hits."

They ended up taking an hour just putting them on and Melissa trying to get them to stop taking selfies because honestly, I can't be fucked to have anything to do with them. By the time they were done, at least 7 other clients have come in and done their rentals.

"I'm picking Paris up. Don't slice anyone with the ice skates." Throwing my jacket on and tying my hair up so it doesn't look sloppy.

"Alright. Say hi for me. We haven't seen the kid in so long." She added as an afterthought.

"Well I'm not bringing her in for you to corrupt, so don't even think about it." I wave as they laugh. Looking around I can tell that my two friends are not holding up too well with the popularity, the store is a gift from a very close friend of mine who passed. I used to work for him so I know the ins and outs of the shop but never have I considered the issues that would arise if I shrink the staff number from a rotation of 6 all the way down to 3. I either need to hire a new staff that's sane or I need to hire a completely new set of humans. In other words, not Melissa and Johnny.

~

I walk alongside the pavement, kicking away solid pieces of snow that have melted together. The weather is being weird, it snowed a couple days then started to warm. And now there's gross slushy snow everywhere. My hearing picks up a car door being slammed shut. It has me curious when the man curses loudly.

"Told the fucker to bring his jacket!" He dashes past me bumping into my shoulder on his way, a scarf and jacket in his hands. He was built, tall but not quite as tall as I am. "Sorry dude."

It wasn't much of a shove, but I appreciated the gesture. Maybe I am an attention whore.

I just want to be noticed.

"I'm here for Paris Perry." Guilty because I was slightly late, all thanks to that amazing group of girls that took their life time and a half taking photos and demanding specific poses.

"She will be through the 4th door on the second floor." The receptionist gives me a warm smile.

But it wasn't as warm as his.

"... the hell Skylar. I told you to bring your coat. I don't need you getting a damn cold." I spot the same guy that bumped into me earlier, speaking to the tiny teacher, who I now recall, or told rather, is Skylar. Or Mr. Cookie.

Weird nickname.

"I'm fine, I'm fine! Just a little chilly. I'm sorry I took you out of that interview. You sure they booked you in for another time?"

"... Yup, tomorrow morning." He was lying, but Skylar only smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"That's great. I'll be sure to iron your dress shirt. Can't have you all wrinkled and grumpy looking now. Well... I can help with the wrinkled part, you just need to be less grumpy yourself."

"Cookie. I'm interviewing for a gym..."

I finally reach them, "Oh! You're here for Paris!" He scratches his head, thinking hard before looking up, straight at my eyes and beam. He has a bandage and bruised cheek. "Roman, right?" He greets cheerily, "Sorry, I forgot your name this morning. But I've got it down, Roman and Paris. I'd like to go to Paris. It's so romantic and the bridge with all the locks... Yeah..."

My highly amused expression is probably not representative of how interesting I find this guy. Even if he is probably in pain from engaging his cheek muscles that much. Perhaps that's what working with children does to you. "You... are very optimistic."

With that, I leave them and go to grab Paris. Who is doodling on a piece of paper with crayons. "Hello Rommy! You're late..." She yawns.

My heart twitches in guilt that I had left her here. "I'll get you ice cream. Sorry."

"Let me go to the bathroom first! And then we can go." She runs out the room after hugging me and takes a right.

I notice the guy from the street, alone.

Why did he lie to Skylar? Why was there a fucking bruise on his cheek? Who the fuck would hit the guy? "Why?" I wanted to slap myself for speaking like a delinquent.

"Well, hello to you too." I almost snorted when he mumbled 'Asshat' under his breath. He seems entertaining enough.

"Why did you lie to him? The interview."

"Did your mom not teach you to not eavesdrop?" His eyebrows rising. I didn't open my mouth, because the words on the tip of my tongue were 'hardly ever talked to her.' Not the best for first impressions. "A proper introduction would be a good start; you know?"

Holding out a hand to shake. "Roman."

"Felix." We shake hands, then he looks around as if to check if anyone were there. "I got declined. Apparently the bitch thought I was too inexperienced to be a personal trainer." His sigh tells me he's stressed, bags under his eyes, "I have a fucking degree and apparently they want 'young and experienced'. How the fuck can you be 'young and experienced'?"

I think the idea of being in a primary school with innocent little children has gone out the window long ago with this one.

"Sucks." I pull out a business card, "I run a sport rentals shop. Need a new pair of hands. Not exactly a personal trainer but if you'd like I can work something out. A café interview or whatever."

His face burns in excitement and interest. "I don't do formal." I add.

"Thank you for the offer, I'll call your office asap."

I look behind him and see Paris walking up with a laughing Skylar, he looks like a child and practically smiles like one. "I'll make sure to check if there are lollipops. I'll bring them in tomorrow if I do." Skylar kneels to pinky swear with Paris.

The sight triggers something in me. "Oh also," he turns to me. Dropping a couple pieces of candy in my hand.

Milk chocolate.

"Endorphins, they make you happy!" He smiles brightly, giggling like a child on a sugar high. "And you Felix. You need to smile more!" Jabbing his fingers at his, boyfriend's (?) cheeks.

I stare at Skylar's injury; it looks really bad. But he's still smiling.

Maybe he's just stronger than others. In the heart.

His expression softens, "I'm making your favorite tonight." Skylar sings. Confirming my suspicions that they are a couple.

My stomach lurches.

A part of my pathetic existence wants a piece of that positivity, perhaps his attention to detail. Or just his attention, to me specifically. It's probably very sick of me to say I want him to notice me more, but I really do. Obviously, I'm incapable of saying it out loud nor would it be very appropriate.

We say our goodbyes and Paris rambles about her day at school. I tune out as I hear the couple speaking.

"... Lasagna, we still have to buy fruits for tomorrow morning... Can't do without my bananas!" I wince when my head subjects such an innocent person to something... not so innocent.

"Oh! Oh! We need lollipops, strawberry flavor. She likes those."

"What the fuck is this shopping list..."

"One dollar! No make it five! This is a chidrens' school Felix!"

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