MusingsMale! Reader - Male!AbsentFather!HungaryMusings by MasamiHayato
Summary: Reader contemplates the impact his father made in his life and choices.
Alcohol abuse and mentions of domestic violence. Story containing mostly the reader's thoughts which means there's no spoken dialogues.
Twenty some odd years has come by and another frigid winter has set in but the memory is as new (and bitterly cold) as a sheet of freshly fallen snow. As you watched the snowstorm gradually die down through the window adjacent to your work desk, your thoughts lingered to the man you once want to emulate. You wondered if he's out there somewhere passed out on a park bench with his legs sprawled and a bottle of empty Unicum dangling on his left hand, the overpowering liquor keeping his insides warm against the bone-chilling cold. You wondered if by any luck he did fulfilled his promise by committing himself in the rehab and has been a changed man that's editing the badly written
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Only when it rains do I witness those pearly whites shining through the darkest of skies and feel those wiry arms coiled around me like a barrier; shielding me from the wrath of the storm and furious roars of thunder. Only in my reveries do I feel the velvety of your tawny skin in my fingertips as I trace your high cheekbones down to the square plains of your taut stomach, your cool steady breathing in my neck drawing me in as I let the tranquil rhythm of your heart pull me into slumber.
And after Natura weeps for our forfeited innocence and bleak future, only a sweet faint smell of your cologne and the warm tingling sensation in my fingertips lingers.
In one of the now frequent lonely nights, I held our little Toto as I listened to the pitter-patter of the rain against the
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"FUCK YEAH! the sun is out dudes!"
Alfred Jones, one of the seasoned journeymen in our crew pumped his fists up in the air and shouted on top of his lungs while the rest of us put the shovels, wheelbarrow, circular saws, impact guns, table saw and other tools back inside the storage before locking it for tonight. After toiling in the rain under depressing skies the sun's late but warm greeting is a welcome respite, a perfect ending to an otherwise gloomy but productive day.
After storing my tool bag away and making sure that the Conex is properly locked, I gazed up to the blinding sunny skies with a rare satisfaction on my muddied face.
For once, everything is falling into the right places.
"Hey, Masami!" I took my tinted safety glasses off and turned my head towards the lone white pick-up truck in our graveled parking lot.
"Yes, Sir?" I asked my Cuban foreman while taking my gloves off and stuffing it inside my backpack with my glass
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You blinked for the umpteenth time in daze, ears still ringing from a recent deafening explosion. After the smoke has cleared up, you tried rolling on your side only to let out an agonizing yelp as the unbearable pain shoots throughout your mangled body. It happened all too sudden; rebels appeared out of shadows effectively ambushing your fireteam as you and the rest patrols an area believed to be rid of any threats.
"[name]!" One of your comrades; Dmitri Braginski limped to your side, horrified at the sight of the gaping hole in your stomach. Muttering a string of curses in Ukrainian he rummaged through his rucksack for the medical kit ignoring his own badly injured leg as the sharp pang of guilt went through his chest.
That armor-piercing bullet was intended for him.
After your vision has settled you noticed one of your friend's bullet ridden body sprawled to the far left corner, crimson colored the cracked brick wall his corpse leaning agai