Stormy Weather

Posted on 30 Oct 2018 @ 5:36pm by Petty Officer 1st Class Gabriel Stark

465 words; about a 2 minute read

"How does he do it? How does he bloody do it?!"

Gabriel Stark was livid as he just stared at the screen recording him, shaking his head with ragged breath from his anger. He'd thought that venting in a log might help, but he wasn't getting much out of it.

He threw himself back against the chair, arms folded across his chest, dark eyes shining with the oppressive and overwhelming emotions trapped inside of him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but the bitterness was rolling off him like smoke on the water.

"A world away from Earth, and a message from my father can be just as provoking as if the bastard was down the hall, slagging me off in the library..." Gabriel pointed off screen as if down that hallway, his body tense as he battled with his own temper.

It was an ongoing battle. One he'd fought all his adult life, and through a fair bit of his youth too.

He'd decided over the years that he didn't like his mind. Or perhaps it was his heart. Wherever the carousel was that could swing him from the guy who was full of life and heat and lust and energy and was high on life, to suddenly feeling broken and drained and drowning and empty, or so angry he could feel his pulse rushing in his chest and head.

And when Gabriel's temper snapped, it snapped.

He stared at the desk with a frown, caught between being so tense with the anger that his body felt on the edge of cracking under the tight stillness, and his leg jigging up and down with his pent up adrenaline...flames that were being fanned by the resentment sitting on his chest.

Gabriel looked to his hands, his jaw so tight it hurt as he watched the fingers scratching and pulling at each other, shaking his head from side to side at himself. No, at his father.

"He has...no clue...." he got out between aching breaths, leaning forward sharply, pushing his hands deep into his dark hair, his elbows resting on his knees, one of which was still jerking up and down.

"He doesn't want to either..." he breathed, the sound shaking as tears brimmed against his closed eyes.

The young man swallowed bitterly past his tight throat, rubbing his hands painfully down over his face, his fingers pressing so hard that they left marks.

He swore loudly as he launched himself up to stand, kicking the chair over with the sudden movement, giving up on the log that wasn't doing anything to draw out the poison.

"I'm going to get bloody drunk..." Gabriel snapped as he reached out, grabbing the top of the computer screen recording him and slamming it down.

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