book club

absorbed as he is, Cutlass senses his father’s presence a moment before the man settles beside him. drawing his gaze from the bottommost paragraph, Las meets Gilgamesh’s eyes with a stilted, shy lift of his chin. he’s not quite sure what to make of his father, large and intimidating and skilled in the art of battle. he craves his approval the way most boys would, but he also knows he’s shown little interest in learning to fight, and a part of him fears that makes him a disappointment. they do not have that avenue through which to connect, after all, so Las hasn’t allowed himself to expect much beyond a cursory greeting here and there.

“all sorts of things,” he murmurs at last, voice just as soft. he likes his father’s voice, deep and rumbling. he hopes his own voice is similar one day. “this one, um…is about a fierce hero.” he flips the cover, displaying it’s title. “but the other day, i was reading about…bugs.” he drops his eyes to his feet, shuffling awkwardly. he wants his father to approve, but then he feels foolish for wanting it.

"Cutlass Fallen"