Scarlett Lines

02:Red roses.

Almost a head taller than Nathaniel, the guy whom he had just opened the door for looked down on him with a disdaining look in his peach-like, hazel-shaded brown eyes.

Nathaniel was stunned speechless as his indigo eyes stared at that young man in front of him unblinking.

A fancy black suit which screamed expensive at first sight lined the cuts and curves in his well-built body. And, his posture and attitude as he was just standing there motionlessly was overbearing enough to leave a lasting impression on every single person at the first meeting. Other than above his neck, there wasn't a single exposure of skin on his body at all. The turtleneck black velvet sweater screened his neck and even his hands were covered with a pair of red-colored wool gloves. Right, it's indeed bright red. And, it was the only fabric on his body that wasn't in black.

His skin was extremely pale, like polished white jade. And like a blood stain on that white jade, his thin lips were too reddish. With his chubby cheeks and jawlines which were yet to become distinct enough, it was the kind of face that could be described as milky yet, the look on that young face wasn't milky at all. 'I'm judging you, judging you too' kind of look it was. If he were to smile brightly, it was a sure thing that he would be able to melt even the coldest lakes.

As the moments passed by in an awkward silence, the visitor, who looked unaware of the awkwardness in the atmosphere, put the disdaining look in his eyes away as his eyes shifted from the guy who had just opened the door to Valente. He smiled, no, grinned brightly like a foolish child as he locked eyes with Valente's light brown, almond-shaped eyes.

However, unlike that youngster's sparkling puppy eyes, those light brown eyes were as cold as an ice mountain in the polar areas. That sugary grin which revealed a pair of hollows on each side of his cheeks which possesses warmth that could melt even the coldest hearts... It actually failed to melt Valente's heart. Indeed, heat could only melt the ice, not the stone.

"Get out!!"

Valente growled harshly as he stared at that guest. His eyes lacked any emotions. But, his slender and tan fingers were clenched into a fist. It was obvious that he was suppressing the emotions that were being welled up in his throat, making him out of breath. As for what kind of emotions they were, even Valente himself had no idea. He only had one thought in his mind. I should quickly chase him out of here.

Unfortunately, the guest seemed to have no plan to step out anytime sooner.

Seemed to have been pulled out of his daze due to Valente's growling, "You!!- Lupus Scarlett?!" Nathaniel talked with uncertainty and confusion.

Taking his sweet time to shift the attention from Valente to Nathaniel, "Yo~ I didn't realize that you were here too, Officer Barnett." Lupus spoke with a certain hostility. "What are you doing in my home anyway?"

It was indeed reasonable for a mafia heir to know about the police officer who leads a team to investigate him. No surprise that Lupus recognized Nathaniel right away. But wait, did he hear the second question right? His home? This white-eyed wolf didn't change a single bit in three whole years.

Nathaniel was quite dumbfounded. "Your home? I don't think so." He said and turned to Valente, a sincere and innocent look on his face, "Brother, why is he in your house?"

Brother?! Just a beer can and we became brothers?!! God!~ Where the heck did these shameless mother*ckers come from?

"Because you opened the door." Valente decided not to bother with Nathaniel calling him 'brother' and casually put the blame on him, before walking back to his precious gaming. Out of sight, out of mind. As long as he doesn't look at those dumb dogs, he will be fine.

Nathaniel who was blamed out of the blue, "..."

However, a certain white-eyed wolf didn't have any intention of letting go of Nathaniel's way of addressing Valente. "Brother?! Who the f*ck is your brother?" Lupus' tone turned threatening as he took out his gun like it was the right thing to do.

"So what if I called him brother? Why do you talk as if he's your property?!" Nathaniel, who was playing around and having fun messing with Valente just a few moments ago, was no more. His attitude became serious as he faced Lupus with confidence. "What? You're gonna shoot me or what?! F*cking bring it on!" His can of beer crushed and thrown to the side looked extremely pitiful.

As they were about to get physical with each other in the middle of their heated argument, a certain calm and cold voice interrupted them. "A single crash on my house and you two are busted." He said as he steadily pointed a gun at them. "Get out"

Changing his expression like changing clothes, a melting smile appeared on Lupus' previous serious face as he looked as if he was wronged. "Bobo~ He's bullying me!" He whined like a newborn puppy with his red lips in a pout.

But, Valente was like a firm rock that couldn't be moved even when the world was ending. "Fight with your fists or, even better, kill each other. I don't care. But, you better do it outside." His voice went more and more down the temperature as he spoke.

...

"Haa... Finally, some peace."

A youngster who he never knew and a guy who knew so well as his own body... it really exhausted him mentally just to chase them out of his house. But, no matter how exhausting it was, it actually dug out his memories a lot. Sweet memories, they used to be. Yet, they were so bitter now.

No! They were sweet memories? No, he was just fooling himself into thinking that they were some sweet moments of his life in spite of his youth. The young mind searches for pleasure, after all. In actual truth, they were the hardest times of his life. Trying to create some sweet memories for himself... It was actually him trying to cope with his tragic state.

After his father died while trying to save the young heir of the Scarlett Blades 14 years ago, even before he could finish mourning his father, he was dragged into the underworld where he never wanted to step in and was forced to work for the man who killed his father. Thinking that he actually had some sweet memories from that time, at the end of the day, he was just deluding himself.

As his memories flooded in like an open dam, wetting his brown-shaded eyes in passing, Valente's mind suddenly began to miss his father who he was the closest to. How many years has it been? Since he last visited his father's grave. Come to think of it. Dad's anniversary of death is just a few weeks away.

...

It was another spring morning. Clear pearl-like dew droplets were yet to fade from the fresh green grass leaves as Valente walked through in a neatly ironed, black silk shirt and black pants. A small bouquet of three red roses in his hand shone in the morning sunlight. When Valente's father passed away 14 years ago, it was a beautiful spring day as well.

As he reached his father's grave, ironically, the grave was actually clean as new. Quite 180 to what he was expecting... Seems someone's cleaning it regularly.

"You have quite a lot of people worrying about you at this age, huh? He jokingly said as he crouched in front of that white as new grave.

"Of course, a generous man like me, it'd be weird if I didn't have anyone worrying about me." His father would've replied if it was 14 years ago. But, things weren't the same anymore. Valente couldn't help feeling a sense of void in his heart. Chuckling at his own foolishness of expecting a reply from his father and being disappointed at not receiving one, he placed that bouquet of red roses he had carefully selected.

"Come to think of it, I used to always give red roses to you back when you were still alive." Seemed to have recalled a beautiful memory, he smiled as he spoke, "Do you know why I did that?...- Because, I knew that you never liked red roses. You preferred white roses more. And, I enjoyed messing with you all the time so, I... I purposely got red ones for you." A streak of wetness ran down his cheeks as his voice trembled slightly. "And... I never want to stop messing with you, so red roses today as well."

"Also, I have completed my goal. I'm a writer now. I even wrote a script for a movie adapted from my novel recently. Although it was a hard path, I still managed to get there. You told me that writing isn't a proper job. This time, I proved you wrong." He wiped the tears that fell on his cheeks as he spoke. "Now, I don't have much time to spare for you anymore. I used my hard-earned leave to visit you today. You had better be grateful."

In actual fact, it wasn't the case at all. Valente would rather work to death than take a leave, and he especially took a leave just to visit his father. But, would his sense of dignity allow him to confess to his father that he took a leave just for him? He has always been that kind of person. Hiding his emotions when he was in front of others. Even his own father wasn't an exception. His father worked his bones to raise him with care after his mother left them. How could he bear to take up his father's little to no resting time to talk about his emotions?

"I'm leaving then. Rest well." He said calmly as he started walking away.

He didn't take more than ten steps before he paused due to a sudden remark from a woman. "I remember that he doesn't like red roses. You should bring white roses next time, young man." An old woman said as she eyed the red roses Valente placed on his father's grave.

Small wrinkles spread out throughout her face curtained her delicate facial features. Fair skin, pale lips, eyes similar to Valente's brown shaded, almond eyes and her long black hair in a single thick braid. She wasn't young, but wasn't that old either. She was a woman in her fifties. Although the wrinkles hid her facial features quite a lot, Valente recognized her right away. It was his mother whom he remembered only through the photos he'd seen before.

Lamentably, she didn't seem to recognize Valente. How could she? She left him when he was three, after all.

"I don't recall that being any of your business." He enunciated each word with hostility.