The dinner finally starts, the metal clinking as Maren serves the food for Rowan, though the way her eyes scan over his body still tells her concern.
Rowan tries to move his arm forward, but he flinches before he can even touch the food. Maren nudges her palm against his palm and shakes her head. "I will do that. Keep your hand down." The tone comes out sharp despite herself, but he just nods and opens his mouth wide with a smile. This smile doesn't look forced.
For a moment, there are only two of them in the room, leaving the third person to exist without any special attention.
Ryan doesn't complain; he just eats silently. The tears have dried on his face now, his expression finally relaxed. The frantic pounding of his heart has stopped, leaving a more steady rhythm behind. Though, his eyes stay on them, discreetly, but still there.
Will Dad still get a hearing after this? Probably… not.
…
"So… why don't you start explaining your 'accident' now?" Maren speaks with her back to both Ryan and Rowan, her voice finally gaining its casual edge as she washes the dish near the sink.
"Here we go…," Ryan whispers to Rowan while leaning over the table. He is also interested to hear the explanation.
Rowan glares at him for a moment, trying to assert some dominance, but his dominance looks fragile in front of his loving but sharp wife and his curious son. After a moment, his shoulders finally slump down slightly before he starts explaining…
The words come out hesitant at first, starting from the story of how he fell from the stairs while moving toward his next lecture, but one glance from Maren quickly brings him back on track. He starts speaking properly, hesitation replaced with helplessness.
His next words make the room fall into pure dread. He mentions rebuking some boys in the college for their misbehavior with some girls, and then how they accepted their mistakes after his scolding. But they didn't accept it. They did remember his words, just not as learning, but as a grudge.
Rowan falls silent after saying this much. His gaze flickers briefly to Ryan, and then he looks down, not meeting their eyes fully. He doesn't say how his state became like this later. His concern as a father wouldn't let him tell the details, and his pride stops him from mentioning the aftermath to Maren.
But Ryan and Maren understand the implication anyways.
Ryan turns his face against the table, his forehead pressing against the wood as the tears fall again. Maren's reaction is more violent as she leaves the dishes mid-wash and stomps back toward the table. "How dare they do this to you!? Did you visit the police? We should immediately report them!"
Rowan finally glances up at her and shakes his head before sighing. "There's no point in doing that. The students rarely do these sorts of things unless they have some security or belief that they will remain safe later."
Her jaw tightens, eyes sharpening, but she couldn't retort to his logic. The connections. The legal issues. Delays. In the end, she sighs too and slowly turns away to walk toward Ryan.
She doesn't speak; just her hands move automatically as she nudges at his head while standing near his chair, and then she wraps her arms around him, fingers kneading through his hair. She smiles slightly while looking down at him. "He's safe now anyways, isn't he… Ryan?"
Her gesture breaks whatever he was holding inside. Ryan's arms quickly wrap around her waist, his face against her belly before he finally cries. His cries go muffled against her, and her kneading soothes him down slowly.
—
After a while, when Ryan finally calms down, he leaves for his room, leaving both of them behind. Even in this situation, Maren wouldn't let him take the day off from school; that's a completely different case.
Now, Maren and Rowan sit alone in the kitchen, their chairs side by side. Her hand rests under his on the table, his thumb rubbing small circles on her palm. With her free hand, she checks his injuries.
"Does it hurt?" she asks quietly while pressing her finger on his thigh, making him flinch immediately.
"Ouch… Hey, don't experiment with it!"
"Huh? I am just worrying about you!" she retorts back with a narrowed gaze but stops pressing in the end. Her palm rides up slowly over his body, stopping on his chest, and she asks while looking him in the eyes. "Does it hurt here too…?"
Rowan's eye twitches, but he nods with a quiet huff. "Yes, here too. But not much."
"Hm…" Her palm slides up even more, fingers pressing on his shoulder now. "And here?"
"…No, my shoulder just aches a bit. Can you stop, though?"
"And now? Does it hurt?"
"No. My neck is fine, thank God for that. But stop already. Please."
Her cheek slowly comes to rest against his shoulder while she looks at his face silently for some time. Her hand slides down again from his neck as she murmurs, "Hey…"
Rowan is caught between her warmth and a strange kind of dread which seems to be rising within him. His voice comes out a bit shaky as he looks at her back. "Maren… W…what? You want to ask something?"
Her hand slides down even more, tracing the bandage over his abdomen. Her gaze sharpens even more as she looks at the bandage there. Her nail digs into his skin just beneath the hem of his shirt, and her voice drops even lower. "Rowan… It is fine, right? Or did you get hurt there too?"
"M…Maren, not now. It's fine, I swear, it's fine! I protected it with every single ounce of my strength!"
Maren meets his eyes again, her head tilting slightly to the side as she searches his face for any sign of a lie. Her palm finally slides down further, fingers curling over his pants slowly as she whispers. "I hope… that you are right. But let me check anyways; you might be lying…"
"N…No! Not today. We can talk this out… ouch."
"Wahhhhh! No. Not in this state, Maren!"
…
Ryan stops in the hallway before he can even make a turn toward the kitchen. Then, the cry or perhaps the plea of his father falls into his ears, and he freezes.
The empty glass stays there in his hand, waiting for the water to fill it. But Ryan just stands there, the task of getting the water forgotten. After a moment, he finally moves.
His hand comes up, his small palm pressing against his forehead before he lets out a tired groan.
Ugh… not again. Even in this state, they are… At least, close the door!
Slowly, he takes a step forward. His hand carefully and discreetly grips the door handle, then he closes it. Finally, he lets out a sigh, wiping a sweat off his forehead as he turns around back toward the stairway.
The glass stays clutched in his hand, but he doesn't look at it anymore. The sound of his footsteps, quiet and slow, vanishes from the hallway as he climbs up the stairs and reaches his room.
The door closes shut behind him as he steps inside. His room, with the childish decorations and a single bed with colorful sheets, comes into view. He walks toward his bed, then jumps to sit on the edge and looks at the glass in his hand.
His free hand rubs against his throat, his face thoughtful for a moment as he glances around the room, then finally he lets out a sigh and shakes his head.
"No water here, water is in the kitchen. Ha…"
He sets down the glass on the table and crawls back to the center of his bed. His back hits the mattress, soft and comforting. He watches the ceiling for several seconds before closing his eyes with a murmur.
"I guess… I will just sleep thirsty tonight."