aurora
I gave Mia a hug. «Thank you for tonight. It was much needed.»
She lazily smiled back at me. «See, no-one regrets spending time with me. I'm amazing.»
I laughed at her drunken comment. «You're right, you truly are.»
Her nose scrunched with happiness by my praise. Before closing the door, I kissed her cheek and told her goodbye.
I lingered out on the street, watching the car until it disappeared out of sight. At four a.m. there were no sounds to be heard, except the warm summer breeze that ruffled the trees as well as my curls. The air was ripe with the pleasant, dewy petrichor of the rain that had fallen over The Hills earlier. I was told long ago that nothing good ever happened after two a.m, but standing outside in the hot summer night, tipsy after a joyous night, I begged to differ.
Finally turning around, I followed after my guard who held the gate open for me.
Walking into the house, I tried my best at being as quiet as possible in hopes of not waking anybody. The sounds coming from me sneaking in probably wouldn't wake anyone, but tip-toeing to my room after a night out was a habit. Making my way upstairs, I looked forward to collapsing in bed.
I had almost reached the door when the sound of my Father clearing his throat filled the quiet hall. I jumped in surprise.
«Dad. I didn't see you,» I whispered, looking up at my father.
He was still dressed in a suit, and dark circles under his eyes sported his usual grim expression. My father was a loving man. His expression however, was not. Even when he comforted me, his face was stoic and fierce.
«Aurora,» he greeted.
«Have you been working this late?» I asked.
Not answering my question, he walked towards me and put his hands on the side of my shoulders.
«I need you to visit me in my study tomorrow after breakfast. We have to talk.»
«Talk? About what?»
«I'll explain in the morning. For now, get some rest. And shower in the morning, you reek of alcohol.»
I giggled, playfully nudging him in the arm. Even at 21, my father and I still acted like I was a kid sometimes.
Silently agreeing to the fact that I wouldn't get to know what was on his mind before the next day, I kissed him on the cheek and bid him good night. Not long after, I was passed out in my bed.
✢
Sunbeams streaming through the window woke me up earlier than expected. The throbbing headache I felt dampened the otherwise bright morning. From my open window I could hear the birds singing and the see the sky blue, free of any clouds. If I had it my way, I would stay in bed for the entirety of the day's first hours.
Remembering my father's wish from early this morning, I knew I needed to get in the shower.
Thirty minutes later, I knocked on the door to his study.
«Come in.»
My Father's study had always been my favorite room in our house. It was huge. Even though I was rarely allowed to be in here, the room was still memorized in my head. Brown built-in bookshelves with a numerous amount of books lined the walls, framing the windows that let light in. As a kid I told him that I would read all the books in here. I never did get into reading. Instead my passion became the huge, black piano which stood in the left corner. My father never played, but when I was younger, he would invite me in here to play him the new song I had learned that week. We both loved those moments. He would sit in the armchair across the room, or behind his mahogany desk, where he was seated now.
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𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲︱18+
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