On Lotus Pond Part 5: Paper Leaves

5:28 pm - Sat, May 19, 2012: 6 notes

On Lotus Pond Part 5: Paper Leaves

Sorry for the long delay. Again. Anyway, here’s part 5. Click for Parts Four, Three, Two, One and Prologue.

Again, this is an intended Carlos D/Daniel Kessler Slash Fan Fic.

Disclaimer: The following literary attempt is purely fictional. The names of the main characters happen to have real life counterparts in the form of very very gorgeous people. Any incident, character or anything that happened in the real life are purely coincidental. While I am somewhat obliged to say that I don’t own these real people, I am just informing anyone not to copy this story and make a buck out of it. Just read and try to enjoy if you please.

Have I made a mistake?

Carlos pondered as he sat in his office one unusually idle afternoon.

Coffee and tea had just been served and almost everything in the studio seemed to be running smoothly. The supplies arrived early, the models were not fussy to dress up, his assistants and the rest of the staff are running efficiently like Swiss clocks, and orders were dispatched on time.

And yet Carlos just sat there thinking whether he made a mistake of letting Daniel stay in the house for another day. It’s been a week since the boy arrived and yet Carlos had not have the heart to send him away. Daniel’s wounds and bruises have now healed revealing his youthful face and he’s been handed out with fresh batch of spare clothing that Carlos assumed would make him leave anytime soon.

But Daniel is still occupying the spare room.

And also because of one incident.

One night, after a hard day at work, Carlos was surprised to find Nerissa having tea on her own at the living room because normally, he would find her in the same room as his mother.

He didn’t spoke first and only raised one eyebrow but it’s enough to intimidate Nerissa.

“Good evening sir,” she spoke nervously as she quickly set down her teacup.

Carlos set down his eyebrow before speaking.

“Aren’t you—?”

“Don’t worry sir, your cousin’s there with your mother.”

“What?!”

“Daniel came to the room and he…”

But Carlos didn’t hear her finish her sentence as he stormed upstairs and to Mama’s room.

“Who told you to come to her room?!” he growled as he burst out to the door.

Daniel was sitting on the carpeted floor at Mama’s foot. He quickly turned and his face went pale when he saw Carlos’ furious face.

“I’m—”

“You little snooping rat!”

Carlos extended one long arm and grabbed Daniel’s shirt collar.

He tried to drag Daniel when he saw that Mama’s hand is anchored to Daniel’s hand .

“Let go of her hand,” Carlos commanded.

“But I’m not holding her…”

“I said let her—” then Carlos saw that Daniel is indeed telling the truth. He is not the one holding his mother’s hand. It was indeed Mama holding onto Daniel. He felt a tug on his heart.

At Daniel’s lap, he saw a book. A tattered old book with gold letters in front: Tennyson’s Poems.

One of the few legacies from his late father.

Slowly he removed his grip on Daniel’s collar

Carlos saw Mama’s eyes widened with agitation and her hands shook with fear so he gently reached over to her, gently stroked her hand as he murmured a few words to soothe her.

With the exception of Nerissa and Dr. Neville, Mama’s private doctor, no one was allowed to come in contact with his mother since she suffered from a massive stroke.

Carlos would normally not keep a guest for more than a day—and most certainly not in contact with his mother—but because of what happened, it seemed to have sealed Daniel’s permanent stay.

But it did made him wonder, even to himself, why in his own heart, he agreed Daniel to stay. Perhaps because like Daniel, Carlos came from an impoverished background.

Born to immigrant parents lured by promises in the “Land of Milk and Honey”. He remembered growing up at the time of the Great Depression. He remembered those hard times. Of his father dying of tuberculosis when he was a young boy. And how his mother worked hard to keep them from dying of hunger.

Or perhaps, there was something in Daniel’s frail innocent state that he took pity of. Maybe that.

(To be continued)