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“And even if you don't like it, you're just like your dad!”
And he laughs, rolling his eyes as he makes an offensive gesture with his finger, letting out a few chuckles at the outcome of the conversation. It didn't affect him anymore. He wasn't like his father, was he? He was better.
He had gotten over it, the abuse and absence of his father, it no longer mattered to him, not anymore, he could laugh in the face of whoever compared him to that man (He had already done it), he would no longer cry and feel guilty when someone pointed out the similarities between them, he was better than that, time accepting that Jack Drake had never given importance to his life, that Jack Drake was simply one more X of the place, someone from whom he did not need attention or validation...
Was he thinking too much? Did that mean he really hadn't gotten over it? His breathing became heavy, covering his mouth he closed his eyes, his mind wandering in past memories, in the bruises on his hands from the blows, in the screams that flooded the mansion, in... He sighed, looked to the side, towards the window, while calming his breathing and expression, it wasn't worth thinking about it, it wasn't worth suffering for a man who never loved him, for a father who hated him.