Misha sat cross-legged on his bed, staring at the small calendar on his night table. Or, more specifically, at a bright red circle doting the following date: 9th of October, his birthday. He clasped his hands in a prayer-like gesture and brought the fingertips close to his mouth, pressing them against his lips. It made it easier to resist the urge to roll over on the mattress and turn himself into a burrito with the blankets.
No words could describe how he felt right now.
One month! There was only one month left, and at long last, this two-year-long torture would come to an end. The darn law would finally acknowledge him as an adult in a month's time, and Misha already knew what he'd do the moment midnight rang. Obviously, he was getting that goddam kiss! He had been dreaming about it every frigging night these past few weeks, so no way in hell was he delaying it for even one second after the clock struck midnight. Who cared about alcohol and such? He wanted to kiss his crush!
"You know," an exasperated but gleeful voice resounded throughout his bedroom, startling Misha. What the heck? He hadn't heard the door squeak open at all! "It's not because you stare at the calendar that your birthday is going to come faster."
"I know! But a man can dream!" Misha growled, twisting his neck backward to glare at Masha, who was nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe. She was wearing leggings and a sports bra, her damp, short hair sticking to her forehead. Considering the good weather, she must have gone out for a run and had just come back. "Instead of pouring a bucket of cold water over your poor little brother's head, shouldn't you be getting ready for your night shift?"
"Taking a shower takes me five minutes tops, unlike you, princess," Masha teased, drawing a grimace out of her little brother. "I just passed by your bedroom first to tell you Gabriel and his brothers are downstairs. You were so lost in thoughts that you didn't hear us call you."
"Why didn't you say so first?!"
Ignoring his chortling sister, Misha sprung to his feet and dashed past her to run to the first floor, almost missing a step and tumbling down the stairs headfirst. He regained his footing just in time but didn't bother to slow down. No, he was too pressed, and it wasn't like he had twisted his ankles.
"Dam," Stephan, who had tagged along with the Laflamme brothers, chuckled. "Here comes the tornado."
"Misha, wait a se–"
Gabriel was interrupted mid-sentence as Misha didn't hold back and jumped on him. Thanks to his momentum, both crashed down in a loud thud. Misha seemed to have forgotten he was no longer a kid and had his growth spurt last year. Although he was an inch shorter than Gabriel, they were practically the same height, and their bodies were built on a similar frame. However, Misha was a bit more muscular, and his shoulders were slightly broader. That said, he wasn't exactly weightless. So, of course, Gabriel would lose balance if he suddenly pounced on him, even if he tried to catch him mid-air!
"Are you trying to kill me?" Gabriel coughed, his back pulsating with pain. The floor was hard. "That hurts. A lot."
"Sorry, sorry," Misha smiled sheepishly. "But I feel hurt, too! How can you mistake my show of affection as me trying to kill you? It's not the same thing at all! It's just a hug!"
"Affection? Hug?" Gabriel laughed in spite of himself as he raised a hand to ruffle the teenager's fluffy hair. He lifted his head slightly to meet Misha's sparkling eyes. The not-yet-but-soon grown-up man was sprawled all over him, his chin propped on his chest, and he looked quite content with himself. "What are you? A Golden Retriever?"
"Woof!" Misha played along and barked, rendering the man speechless and drawing laughter from the onlookers. For a moment, Gabriel thought he could see a wagging tail.
But no one thought of dragging Misha away from Gabriel, for everyone knew Misha was being overdramatic to hide just how much he had missed the man. Thanks to Angela, Gabriel had been away on a business trip for over a month and a half with Jake and even Tristan, who had been sent with them to do some sightseeing while his brothers worked. Angela couldn't be bothered to babysit her youngest son and thus entrusted him to her eldest. She had been swamped with work these past two years as everything seemed to go wrong, and she barely had any time left to devote to her son. Since he was close to his brothers, Angela decided they could take care of him in her stead.
As such, she sent the three of them overseas in the summer when a critical deal showed off for their front business, and she couldn't attend. Jake and Gabriel were doing well on previous contracts, and she set her eyes on them. This potential deal fell right up their alley, and how foolish would she be not to profit from their expertise?
Long story short, Misha couldn't meet with his favorite people for far too long and spent July brooding! Video calls were good and all, but they couldn't replace meeting up in real life. It just wasn't the same! Misha needed that big hug to recharge his depleted reserve, and no one could convince him to let go of Gabriel anytime soon. Cuddles were the only cure for the devastating disease that had been plaguing him these past few weeks. Loneliness was no joke!
"Mish'," Tristan softly said, crouching to dangle an exquisitely wrapped bag before his eyes. "Are you sure you don't want to let Gabriel breathe? We brought gifts for you."
"Are you seriously trying to coax me like a kid…?"
"Yes?"
Misha squinted his eyes, then, not even a second later, started to look back and forth between Gabriel and the bag. He could see Gabriel was trying his hardest not to laugh, a doting expression softening his facial features. Whatever Misha chose, he would follow along as always. It had become an unbreakable law.
"Alright, fine. Let's sit on the couch–" Misha stopped mid-sentence when he noticed something in Jake's hands. "Dude, did you really bring work with you?!"
"Well, we're probably staying the night, no?"
"So? Do you honestly think that makes it ok to drag your work all the way to my home?" Misha felt a vein bulge on his forehead as he stared at the laptop in Jake's hands, glaring at it as if it were the devil incarnate. "For fuck's sake, you've just come back from a month-and-a-half-long business trip! Take a break!"
"I just have a few things left to tune in my report. I'll do it before bedtime when everyone is asleep, so don't worry. It won't interfere with the souper."
"…You goddam workaholic."
"By the way," Jake not-so-subtly changed the topic, "where are your parents?"
"Visiting my grandmother," Misha smiled weakly. Although Mary's cancer was caught early in this timeline, and the doctors managed to get rid of it seven years ago, it was back. She had a relapse, and the prognosis wasn't too good. At 84 years old, the treatments were harsh on her body. However, Misha didn't want to dampen the mood and didn't explain further. "They will probably stay over for the night, so there's no need to watch our tongues; we can speak freely!"
"Thank goodness," Tristan sighed. "I'm really starting to have difficulty behaving like someone my age. I have absolutely no idea how a twelve-year-old should act!"
"Welcome to my world," Misha snickered as he sat on Gabriel's stomach to pat Tristan's shoulder. He was still crouching, so his shoulder was at arm's reach. "From my experience, people don't care much as long as you're not too knowledgeable and mature. Just throw a naïve comment here and there, and voila!"
"You do realize you behaved like a four-year-old when you were ten, right?" Tristan mercilessly reminded Misha, who coughed to hide his embarrassment. "But seriously! How can I have any naïve thoughts when that guy's memories are making a mess out of my head?! I never held a gun in my life and past lives, yet I'm pretty sure that if one were to fall into my hands right now, I could fire straight at the target without problem! Argh, I don't want his useless skills!"
An exasperated sigh accompanied the rant. It took time for Tristan to feel at ease talking about this stuff, but after months of encouragement from his entourage, bringing up Pierrot in everyday conversation became natural. Gabriel and Jake had been clear: they would rather their little brother bring him up whenever the man popped up in his thoughts than let him haunt the boy's mind until it turned into a waking nightmare. It didn't matter what thoughts crossed Tristan's mind. They wanted to know and be there for him. It was a feeling everyone in their group shared, for they knew how hard it was on the boy. Burdens were meant to be carried together, not alone.
"Useless skills?" Misha cocked an eyebrow. "Being good with firearms comes with its perks, y'know? Like, do you have any idea how many prizes you can win in booths at festivals or amusement parks?"
"Prizes?"
"Yeah, toys and stuffed animals. If you win often enough, you can bury your loved ones with gifts by the end of the day."
At the thought, sparkles seemed to spring to life in the boy's chocolate eyes. It drew a small chuckle out of the people in the room. Tristan said he didn't know how to act like a twelve-year-old boy, but when he had a reaction like this, they were reminded that Tristan was still a kid who was only just stepping into teenagehood. He was simply a bit more special than average.
"Oh right, the diner will be ready in about an hour," Misha informed his guests. "In the meantime, make yourself at home. But no work for you, Jake."
In response, Jake clicked his tongue, triggering yet again another round of laughter. It made Misha smile. This, right now, was what brought him joy – endless joy, even. Going on with his life without the Laflamme brothers wasn't thinkable anymore. He was too used to having them standing by his side, something he would never have thought possible in the past, especially considering how sour his relationship with Gabriel was at first. And to say that in one month's time, this relationship would go one step further…
Ah, damn, Misha couldn't wait. The anticipation was killing him! Why couldn't his 18th birthday happen tomorrow morning?! Counting days was as excruciating as counting months or years! If not more painful!