oh baby, I have not been kind
He was what you would call a little busy when he first took notice that something was happening. After his flirty delicious number with his sexy Amber, he'd taken a bit of a break. Backstage never meant he was alone, too many people, but he'd still managed to find a little privacy for a few minutes at least, his fingers lost in long blond hair and lips locked in ravenous kisses.
He pulled his girl tighter against him with a muffled moan, so damn hard and ready to start losing some clothes. God, he loved her hands in his hair, the brilliant passion she fed back to him and lit him up.
But, fuck.
He gasped and jerked back, grey eyes wide. Not good, not good. Frantically, he straightened his clothes, ruffled his perfectly tousled hair. “I gotta go,” he passed to her in a hurried kiss. Aw, man, he missed her already. Another kiss then, just as quick as the last, and he bolted to the nearest back exit and took to the sky.
With a graceful swoop, he landed before his dad, staggering on the landing from all the powerful thoughts and emotions hitting him so hard. He caught himself with a palm on Dad's chest, blinking at the ground and shaking his head, then looking up at Mom and her friend. Mom wouldn't let the guy hurt him or Dad, so he felt no fear apart from a natural instinct to avoid fire. Had she not been there, he would've been far more guns-blazing and threat to anyone that would dare think of hurting his Dad.
The thoughts there hurt his heart, the way his dad was perceived by things he'd never do. Had done, but wouldn't now. He wasn't the same person anymore after finding them and staying with the family. Kharon's expression was only sad and quiet as he watched them, his hand drifting down to take Dad's and sleek white wings folding neatly against his back. Then he turned to Dad, stepped in front of him to block his view of Mom and Woolf, search his silver eyes with unconditional love in his.
"Come on, Dad. Let's go talk," he suggested quietly. "Mom will be okay."
He looked at Mom again, still holding Dad's hand. "I love you, Mom." This was the closest she'd ever been to moving on, to finally finding some happiness or at least a bit of fun. Then to Woolf, because despite all their sass and good looks, Dad had taught him to be polite. "It was nice meeting you." He stepped back and tugged gently on Dad's hand.
I wish I could scrape away the dirt that's on my mind