Yellow || hs au

|61|

Possible tw second half of the chapter.

—

   I slowly step into the dimly lit restaurant, the hostess smiling at me warmly as she holds a menu to her chest. Before either of us can say anything, my father approaches us, a smile on his face. I grin, but the nerves coursing through my veins makes it hard to relax and be happy to see him.

   My father had called me earlier in the week telling me he'd be in the city this weekend. He skipped over my questioning as to why because we hadn't planned to see each other and I'm the only one in the city he knows. But he said he wanted to see me, so here I am.

   "Hey, Luck. Thanks for coming." He smiles, placing his hand on my shoulder. I chew the inside of my cheek and nod my head, my lips pressed into a thin smile.

   "Yeah of course, it's good to see you." I reply, feeling him guide me through the restaurant towards a booth in the back. His hand falls falls from my back as we both slide into opposite sides of the table. "So what's going on?" I ask.

   Just by the way his shoulders are tensed up and his back is straight against the booth, I can tell something is wrong. I just don't know what. His eyes flicker around the restaurant until they finally find my confused gaze.

   "Nothing, just figured I'd see you before heading home." He shrugs casually. I wet my lips as my eyebrows furrow at him, my father chuckling as he shakes his head. His laugh is forced, his eyes don't crinkle like they do and the laugh itself is dry and free if any humor.

   "You don't just come to the city randomly unless we have something planned." I point out. My father opens his mouth to say something, but the waiter shows up.

   The look of relief on my fathers face makes me sigh, wondering what could possibly be bothering him. Even though we've made up from our problems in the past, that doesn't mean we tell each other everything. Nor does it mean I know how to talk to him about serious things. And it seems like I'm going to have to do that tonight.

   I look over at my dad when the waiter leaves to put our orders in, his eyes trained on his hands that sit folded over the table. I don't say anything, waiting for him to be the first to talk. He sighs and lifts his gaze to meet my own.

   "How's Harry? Everything okay between you two?" My father finally speaks up. My chest deflates regardless of the warm feeling in my heart at the mention of Harry.

"He's fine." I state, twirling my straw around my cup as I watch the water and ice float around and crest a small whirlpool. "But that's not what this dinner is about." I add on, glancing up at my dad who sighs.

"Not necessarily, but I'd like to hear about your relationship, I mean he obviously is making you happy, and that's what I want." He shrugs, his eyes falling down to the table.

"He does make me happy, and I really appreciate that you care." I reply, my tongue gliding over my bottom lip. "I started going to therapy." I continue, my father glancing up at me with obvious surprise. I laugh shortly causing him to clear his throat.

"That's good Lucky, um. . . for— for what, exactly?" He questions, swallowing thickly. I drop my straw from my goose grip and lean back into the cushioned back of the booth, smoothing my palms down my thighs.

"To talk to somebody about family issues." I admit easily. My father sighs and looks out over the restaurant, his head falling forward as he shakes it. "It's not you so much as it is mom." I clarify, not wanting to make him feel bad or guilty. It's obvious he already does.