Blackfeather Woods When I speak your name

It was mystifying to Cicero that Burke knew so much about him that he had never said. Perhaps he had been raised for a part by Burke, he had never seen him as his father, for he had been old enough to do much on his own already, and had not needed him in that capacity; at least not consciously. The distance between them was perhaps because of his own maturity at the time, but Cicero did not think that Burke had never noted. In truth, he had always been the one to think that Burke did not see him as his child as much as he did Damien and Potema, but now he stated otherwise. Perhaps the rift was based on untruths, but Cicero could not be sure. Perhaps the only reason he had never deemed Burke his father was because labels were not his favourite thing. Meldresi had only ever been his mother because she had birthed him, but she had only been mom for a really short time in his life, too.

Dropping the subject, Cicero looked briefly at Burke with his dark-rimmed eyes heavy, as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He considered speaking, but it was not that he did not consider Burke his father, or that he did not trust him as a therapist; it was that Burke was also his Alpha, and to admit what had happened, to risk Damien finding out. Each revelation would prompt another revelation, until he was threadbare and there was nothing left to reveal.

He opened his mouth, though unsure of what to say just yet (and, perhaps more importantly so, what not to say), when Burke mentioned good news. Grabbing the straw of conversation as if it was a lifeboat in a storm, Cicero cocked an eyebrow. "Good news?" he echoed, and he awaited the news. Perhaps his tongue would once more loosen on the subject of his wounds later, but for now he was content speaking of this news Burke had for him instead.