Through the Screen

Chapter 56

"no, that's not how you spell it," noah rolls his eyes as he nosily peaks at adrian's essay, and the

smaller boy only scowls, quickly scribbling the word and rewriting it.

noah had stopped moping around once adrian returned from school, his curly hair plastered to his

forehead and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. noah had pushed his hair back affectionately and

placed a kiss against his forehead, before telling him to change.

half an hour later they were in the kitchen, adrian with a splotch of flour on his face as he tried to roll

some kind of a dough, and noah just furrowing his eyebrows before running his thumb over the boy's

cheek to dust it off.

they watched a few movies, and ate lunch together on the dining ; noah complaining about work and

adrian, about school. they were bonding over undercooked potatoes and doughy pasta, uncensored

rambling about people that neither of them knew.

noah listened quietly when adrian spit harsh words about his classmates and a few of his inconsiderate

teachers ; and adrian just rested his chin in his palms as noah talked rubbish about everything, ranging

from the annoying sound of his co-worker—heather's—heels to the bad decisions made by the

government.

right now, adrian was sat at the dining, the ink pen in his hand staining multiple pages of his notebook

where he attempted to write an essay, and noah was sitting next to him, his glasses placed crookedly

on the bridge of his nose and his fingers constantly making a clicking sound as he typed something.

"i can see you trying to read over my essay, stop doing that, it's making me uncomfortable," adrian

crossed his arms over his chest, dropping the his pen on the notebook, and noah only rolled his eyes,

resting his chin his palms as he stared at adrian.

"i'm the dad here, i can do whatever i want," noah said nonchalantly, wanting to see the annoyed

expression on his child's face and adrian just snorted, squinting his eyes at his father in irritation before

starting to write again.

"dad?" adrian called five minutes later, and noah only hummed softly in response.

"when are we going to put up our christmas tree? there's barely a week left for christmas," adrian

frowned, and noah glanced at him sideways before pursing his lips. This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"we should wait for your papa to return before we—"

"but papa might take a while! i'm not letting santa curse us because papa won't get over his stupid

work," adrian complained and noah just sighed. there was no way he was going to win this argument,

so he thought the best thing that he could do, was to simply dial abel and let him deal with the situation.

"okay fine, i'll call papa and you can ask him about this alright? don't eat my head," noah stated

pointedly and adrian just grinned at him, nodding his head aggressively, watching as noah picked up

his phone and dialled a number, pressing the silver device against the shell of his ear.

"hello?"