Hey, Little Songbird

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nobody sings

"You really are too sharp aren't you?" The older man said.

Adrian looked down. "Come on now. You're my father. You think you're the smartest guy in the world. Surely your son shouldn't be far behind."

"Mh. But you have your mothers genes. You look just like her. So pretty."

Adrian flinched. "Don't say that."

His father smiled. "Why?"

"She says that. That in pretty. From you it sounds disgusting. Lusting after a woman you could've saved. I know that I look just like her."

"When you were young...you have had her body shape," His father smirked.

"I don't anymore." Adrian smiles. "Children are versatile. At first they only look like children. Boy, girl it comes later."

"Hm," His Father smirked. "I know. You don't feel uncomfortable? Son?"

"No. Your bones are already fragile, but I could break them anyway. I'm not particularly fond of violence, and you aren't a real threat to me. Not any more."

He chuckled. "Wow. How very...straight laced of you. Not like me at all. That's her. You're like a clone of her."

"Not quite," Adrian stared, settling back in his chair. "So why have you come? To stir up my life before you leave this world?"

"Oh, I just miss...looking at your mother. You wear your hair long like hers on purpose. Do you like tempting me?"

Adrian smiles. "Maybe I hope you'll try to touch me, so I can kill you without regret."

His father mimicked his fake smile.

"And the woman?"

Adrian didn't look up. He continued signing papers.

"DNA is odd don't you think? You look like her. Talk and think and act like her. You had to get something from me. Maybe it's...that fixation I have. The woman you love? What if she bears a child and passes away? What if that child is exactly like her. Where will your fixation go?"

Adrian sighed. "So that's why you came? To make me think I'll be a pedophile like you? That kind of sickness does not afflict me and it never will."

"So confident?" He smirked.

"I am confident. I know who I am. I know what I am. The natural response to the death of the person you love, is to take care of the person they left behind. Not to abuse them."

"The fact that you're response was so drastically different from that natural response, is more than what you call fixation. It's illness. You're not well, you never have been."

His father grinned. "And you're well?"

"As you say, I'm a spitting image of my mother."

"And she loved someone like me? Is that very well, son? Loving someone who could love a child like they loved an adult?"

"That isn't love, and she didn't know that. You presence is sickening. Leave."

His father stood, walking away.

"I'm watching you," Adrian said after them. "I watch you closely. If you touch anyone, especially any child, I will kill you. You know that, don't you?"

His father smiled. "Hm. I've seen the people you have around me. I assure you, I have interest in ordinary children. Just you."

"Even so. You may have enough money to avoid paying for you've done. But I have enough money to make sure you can never do it again. And if all else fails, I will resort to what have progressed humanity thus far," Adrian explained. "Brute strength. And the bones of the dead."

Adrian let his father walk out the door.

He had never hated his father despite it all. Despite what he'd done. Because he wasn't well. Not at all.

And his mother...loved him for some reason. For some reason.

There had to be. Adrian's phone rang.


"Are you done with work?" Her voice came through.

His smile widened. He touched his lips. It was real.

"No. But I think I'll bring some work home. And eat with you."

"I missed you, Hades," she smiled.

"And I you, Ophelia," he grinned.

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