“Uh, yeah,” He looks away, quiet all of a sudden. 

You frown, wondering why he was acting this way until you realize that you’re sitting on his chair.  “Oh, sorry,” You stand up and watch him take his seat.

“Please,” He gestures at the seat across the table and you take it, staring at your supposed father’s face.  “I’m sorry, it’s just that, hearing you call me dad felt peculiar,”

Remembering how you were only a child when he took you out of the Rebellion, you nod comprehensively.  “Ah, right, yeah,”

“But it’s fine, I am your father after all,” He clears his throat at the word.

Chuckling, you shake your head at the awkward goose of a father he is.  “Thank you, for everything, for breaking me out of here and for caring for me during all the times I was here,”

He gazes gently upon your face and shrugs.  “That’s my job, my duty, to you and to Silvia,”

You twitch at the mention of your mother.  “Am I really the daughter of the Rebellion’s head?”

The look he gives you showed regret and apology, but also a hardness you can’t place.  “Yes, you are.”

“Is she-“ You hesitate at the question, but shut your eyes as you continue.  “Is she alive?”

“No, she died when you were 4, out of a sickness that hit almost everyone in the Rebellion’s headquarters,”

Not even knowing why, you heave a quiet sigh of relief.  It may have been insolent, to be relieved at your birth mother’s death, but that’s one fearful figure out of your life.  “I’m sorry, it’s just-“

“I understand,” Your father cuts you off.  “Afterall, she’s the one who requested for you to be made into the knife-throwing inhumane being,”

“She was?”

“She was.  She didn’t acknowledge you, because you were a girl.  She had always wanted a son and once you were born, she turned her head away and disowned you, although your hair couldn’t fool anybody,” He explained.  “You went through all that training because it would be a step closer to the figure of a son she wanted.  Your mother was shallow, stupid and foolish.  She slept with another man and gave birth to Kris, as you have came to know.  I, well, I lost the love I had in her because she changed, ever since she become the Rebellion’s head.  Blinded by power, riches, fame and other men, she wasn’t the woman I fell in love with.  It’s a wild world out here, Amara.  I then came to know of the sister your mother always hid and, you know what happened then,”

“You fell in love with her and passed me to her care, before I can fully turn into a monster,”

He blinked.  “Roughly put, yes.  Silvia could not bear children, so you were a gift to her life.  She loved you so very much, Amara.  So, very, very, much,”

“I did too, and I will always do,”

“Don’t refer to yourself as a monster, Amara, she did not raise you to be one,”

“That woman did,” You spat.

“But Silvia did not,”

Affection rushed into your head and you sigh, running a hand through your hair.  “Kris is really my step brother, then,” You stare at the table.  “Why did he kill Silvia, dad?”

“Kris was the Rebellion’s dog since he was young.  Taught to carry out assignments flawlessly, he didn’t hesitate for a blink when his mother told him to murder Silvia.  He knew Silvia, and Silvia knew him.  He knew her as the woman who showed up in all the hiding places in the Rebellion’s headquarters, and regarded him with a smile and like a child, talked to him with tenderness and taught him things that went against whatever he had learnt, unlike all the other people in the Rebellion who regarded him without a smile and with respect instead, as the Rebellion head’s son.  It was strange to him and he thought of it as something bad, something out of order.  And so, he felt no burden in carrying out the duty when he was older, being the heartless and cold reincarnation of his deceased mother,”

“Bastard,” You curse and shut your mouth immediately when your father clears his throat.  “Sorry, sorry,” And then you find yourself laughing.

“Watch your mouth, Amara, you’re a lady,” He reprimands and you nod, unable to contain your laughter.

“It’s been such a long time, dad,” Your laughs are countered by the tears streaming down your cheeks, and you cover your nose and mouth, drinking up the figure of your father, sitting just across the table.  “It’s been such a long time, I thought you were dead,”

He stands up and walks over to your seat, turning the swivel chair to the side and kneeling in front of you, holding your hands.  “I’ve missed you too, more than you could ever imagine, Amara,”

You clutch at his rough hands, the ones eneveloping yours, sobbing incredulously at how much you could miss someone you didn’t even know that well.  “I thought you were gone forever.  Silvia thought you were gone forever.  Why did you lie to her? Why did you write that letter?”

“Because it wasn’t a lie, Amara, it was the truth,” He stands up and pulls you into his arms.  “I am only alive here, in your heart,”

***

Your eyes snap open and anger boils within you much too quickly for your control.

“Liar!”

Your hands grab at everything within reach and you start tossing things, breaking things, glasses, lamps, ripping books, pushing down shelves, shattering windows, everything you can get your hands on, you break, shouting ‘liar’ over and over again as the realization slowly but surely dawns on you.

“Amara!”

You turn and throw your knife, not blinking an eye when you realize it had embedded itself onto Kris’ upper arm.  “Don’t say my name, bastard!” You throw another knife, and another, and another, growling in frustration when he dodges every single one of it.  “Don’t say my name!” You push him down and start to step on his neck.  “I don’t give a damn if you’re my step brother, you dog! You killed Silvia already, wasn’t that enough?” You push at his neck deeper, burning even brighter when he coughs out painfully.  “Did you have to kill my father too?”

“I’m s-so-“

“Sorry doesn’t cut it!” You lift your arm to take aim, preparing to embed a knife onto his forehead.  “A life for a life,” You clutch at the knife in your hand and before you could flick your wrist, the tears start stinging your eyes.  That was what your father had said, to bring justice.  And here you are, saying the very line without thought, without heart, like the shallow words of your birth mother.  Screaming out in rage, you flick your wrist and lift your foot away from Kris’ neck as it hits the far wall with a muffled thump.  “Why?” You crumple onto the ground, covering your face.  “Why did I have to lose the two person I love the most to the only family I have left?”

The sobs rack your body painfully and you berate yourself for being a weakling.  For crying.  For letting your guard down and for letting your carefully constructed walls crumble so easily.  You couldn’t kill Kris.  He was your step-brother. 

You’re not a monster and you wouldn’t want to be one by killing your own family.

Standing up shakily, you slap Kris’ hand away, the one reaching out to offer you support.  “Don’t help me when you need some,”

Stepping out of the room, you roughly push Baekhyun away, unable to register any form of tenderness or affection towards anything after all that you’ve came to realize.  Trust is betrayal in its own form.  What is love when you’re going to lose it sooner or later? Strings of attachment mean control.  Touch may turn into grips, and they might crush you mercilessly.

You may not be a monster, but you were too close to being one, you might just turn into one.