How we meet

Chapter 39

Your father greated you at the door. His signature pin-striped suit and violet pocket square. You imagined the thread-thin lines as bars. Encaging his heart behind his ribs. It wasn't to protect it from the outside world, it was to protect him from emotions. A cold beating heart would pump its icy blood through its veins. There would be no emotions from this man, the one who sunk his hand into his heart severing from the intricacies of its host. It probably put up a fight, grasping onto his arteries and holding on for dear life even as its arms ripped away and it slowly grew cold.
You followed quietly N stayed beside you his hand always wanting to reach out for yours. Yet you seperated yourself from him sortly after. You ran to the bathroom gripping the counter as hard as you could. Your fingers lost their color from how hard you dug into the marble. You washed your face over and over again looking at youself in the mirror but even then you didn't know if you could do this.
N sat across from you, your father sat at the head of the table beside you. You watched him as the silence of the room grew loud. The paintings were wispering umongst themselves. You could hear their complainta from miles away. The same dull eyes that watched you since you were a child were now mocking this boring dinner.
"So you're a former champion of Unova?" Your father asked. As he started his soup.
You could easily guess that there was going to be more courses, your father was always fond of having a three or four-course meal when he had guests over. You were forced to sit through many of them, but the maids always slipped you a few extra bites of something you liked. You always liked it when they'd drizzle the chocolate over your deserts in front of you. You liked the movement of it where it covered the cake sometimes even dripping down the sides pooling around it. When it was dinner with guests you were always blessed with something sweet to eat.
"Yes, I was." N was panicking, his eyes darted to you but you did not falter, you did not slip up, you couldn't.
"He's quite good with pokemon." You spoke softly, your eyes tilted downwards. Your eyelashes had to shield your eyes, if your father saw that look that you had he'd be furious, so you bite your tongue and take a spoonful of a nice warm soup.
Do you know how people talk about being "the better person?" You always heard that phrase when you went to school, petty fights, yelling, and drama over stupid things, but because you cared about it so passionately it becomes a large issue. Neither side wants to hear the other out, neither wants to be wrong. That's what this was all like to you. A fight that had boiled over, the hot bubbles burning people who shouldn't be involved.
So when the bowls were replaced with your main dishes you watched silently. N watched you, you watched your father, and the large man talked to N. Your father got away with poor table manners, taking large bites, talking, and gesturing with the silverware that had been polished by the gentle old woman who worked in the kitchens. Then someone gagged.
Your father's eyes widened, you turned to N. His hair was pasted to his forehead. His body shook, he gagged and his chest moved forwards. He turned to the side and gasped as the liquid hit the ground. You froze, you couldn't see it but you sure as hell could hear it. His face looked so pale he looked sickly. You ran over, your chair fell to the floor, your heart was beating too hard, your breaths were fast and short. You pulled his hair back, as he gasped for breath. You hated seeing him like this. You looked away for a moment, up at your father. He hadn't moved, his eyes were narrowed looking directly at you.
Yet N didn't stop. He was pulled away from the table and rushed to a room to wait for a doctor as a maid took care of him the best she could. You were left standing by the table, the food cold and some spilled across the cloth in your momentary panic.
Your father only stood up after two maids entered to clean the room. He ordered you to follow. You followed him watching the fabric of the blazer pull as he walked, he always led with his chest even though his arms swung as he walked they pulled him along. He led you to the abandoned garden you had built with the help of the maids and landscapers. You had used it to hide your escape from home, the bushes overlaid each other so the hole in the fence was harder to find. Yet with the incoming winter, you could now see the way the fence had been damaged.
"You wanted this to only be us? Or was that secret ingredient for me?"