Fallen Queen

~ C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N ~

I struggle to keep my voice and facial expressions intact, my fist curling inside the pocket of my jacket as I watch him stand up slowly, trying to mask his stupefied features. "What a pleasure, Dad," I grunt, but it is anything but pleasurable. I ignore the soft creaking of the other seat.

"I didn't expect to find you here," Dad mutters, definitely trying to cover up at my presence out of the blue. "I was just," he runs a hand through his hair, "-it was just a meeting with Declan. It's been-"

"I didn't question why you were meeting Declan or any other fu- anyone else, either," I shake my head, trying to keep the surge of the anger in control. No, no temper, no reaction. Don't let him get the better of the situation. Handle. Calmly. No panicking. No fumbling. Head on, frank and blunt.

"Sit down, Icha."

"No, thanks," I mutter, but my voice is anything but polite. Alaska Ice. My skin tingles unpleasantly as I note his figure, his fingers making the annoying clink as he stirs his coffee silently. Brown hair, the same shade as my Dad, falls over his eyes, but I can still make out his thoughts from mere movements of his- awkwardness and that feeling of not wanting to interfere.

And guilt. Remorse.

I don't want it.

"Achelois," his voice fades away slowly and I feel the anger surging through my veins again, this time not adhering to my control and I'm stuck between deciding to fuel it up or slow it down- because I find the answer looming right in front of me- there is no choice, but I create one, because I have to.

"Declan Montgomery," I mutter, "Or, maybe, we could cut out the fake parts, Declan Crimson."

He raises his head and there is a sorry feeling in his eyes. Deep brown, exactly like my father. "Achelois," he mutters, but his voice carries a sheen of respect and guilt, "It's been a long time."

"Indeed, it has been," I nod, but there is a hint of sarcasm in my curtness, "I thought daddy here had no time at all, but it seems, his child definitely comes first for him," I grunt, "Now, doesn't he, dad?"

"Isa," he frowns slightly, "He's your elder brother. You're supposed to behave."

"Yeah, behave," I mutter and leave out the rest but mutter it under my breath, nonetheless, "My foot." Declan has grown up, probably twenty eight or so now. I've never had much of a problem with his attitude- it's just Dad. After all, oh, just, JUST FUCK IT ALL.

"I'm getting late," I articulate solemnly, "I wonder whose face I looked at first in the morning today. By any means, do not pause your rendezvous 'cause of me. I'll survive, I always do. I'll now leave you alone, catch up some Dad-Sonny time, eh?" I plaster the fakest of all smiles and turn around sharply.

"Stay, Icha," Dad says in a parched undertone. I do not turn back, just shake my head. "I'd rather not," I shake my head, my voice melting into a sweet tone, "By no means, do not heed me, not that you do anyways. I'm sure Dad'll find time for me someday," I turn my head, not entirely facing him, but just to the right, "In a chimerical future, right dad?"

I do not wait for his response and storm out of the café, but not with anger. It's the sort of transitory anger that I flashed there- the reality is hurled back to my face, but like always, I'm blank, offering no reaction or entertainment to fate either- rather, it's a challenge.

I care about no fucking body.

The jacket is snug around my body, but it's colder than before, even with the jacket on. The lights illuminate the city, but I'm too distracted. My mind is trained on the soft tap of my sneakers with every step. The curb is full of the autumn leaves that leave a quiet crunch beneath my shoes. I regret walking to the gym instead of driving down here- I'm in no mood to walk. The leaves dance from branch to ground, each a colorful flag without strings or pole, free to roam. I feel the breeze, rich with the aroma of the earth, the keeper of the seeds for the springtime to come. There is a calmness, as if all the gold, berry-reds and browns that flutter about are a cozy quilt, but the disturbance that rages inside my mind is impossible to calm down. I feel like I need a drink, but no Tease Beat this time.