melancholy feelings ~m.m~

part fourteen

꧁y/n's pov꧂

"are you sure?" i asked nervously, rolling my weight from my heels to the top of my feet. my old converse creased under the pressure. little doodles of stars and swirls on the toe cap. there was smudged dirt and grime that stained the sole and made the doodles fade.

"its for the best." he replied with not half as much panic as he stared down at his phone in disinterest. probably scrolling through tiktok as he normally did. he stood almost a foot taller than me.

"you say that too much...not everything is 'for the best', nick" like it normally did, my panic turned into frustration and annoyance.

"and you get mad too much. just calm down." he muttered, returning the annoyance just in time for a taxi to drive up. "hey, dad!" nicks whole demeanor changed as the older man stepped out of the car.

"nicholas!" he was the only person to ever call nick by his full name. "youve gotten taller!" his voice was deep and scratchy. the kind made for yelling.

"or youve just gotten shorter." the two looked almost identical. a lot like me and mom. nick was always good at knowing what to say. to make the conversation flow naturally. nothing like me.

"and (full name)!" he turned to me, his harsh gaze never changing despite his mood. he always had this piercing (e/c)ed eyes that just bore right through you.

(if your full name is something different than what people call you, he calls you your full name. but if you dont, he just calls you your normal name.)

"hey, dad.." i paused awkwardly, stiffening as he wrapped his large arms around me. loose enough for me to know what he really thought about me. i didnt hug back.

"so, lets go inside, huh?" his poisonous grin cracked on his lips just as the taxi driver placed his dark leather briefcase next to him. it matched him so well. he always wore suits and trenchcoats. typical business man style.

"yeah, pops." nick lead us in, dad in between and me behind. he only visits once a year when he as a business trip close. which is too often in my opinion. and probably nicks too but i think part of him hates to admit our parents split. he grew up in the 'perfect' family and he wanted it to stay that way.

the walk up was silent. we passed miles door much slower than i would have liked. if he wasn't with ganke again i wouldve made plans to skip out on dad's yearly visit. but, of course the universe is my opp...

"so, how was the flight?" nick glanced back at the man behind him. his normally (h/c) hair thinner. its weird to see him age. i feel like that one auntie at the family reunion who used to 'change your diapers.'

his stern face contorted into one of annoyance. he scoffed and shook his head. "dont get me started." why do all old people hate the same three things? flights, gas money, (no matter what price its at) and any democratic minded topics.

and back to silence. only the loud honking of cars outside and the slight creek of the wood under his leather buckle shoes. as a kid, i always used to call him a leper because i thought that was a shortened version of the word leprechaun.

finally, after what feels like years we all stand in front of the front door. its a pale wood with a brass handle and a little brass plate under a peephole engraved with '402' in a curvy font.

the door slides open easily as nick didnt lock it when we left to go down to wait for him. before dad could even make it in, he makes a comment. i knew he would.

"i thought i raised you better." he huffed. just as i was about to say something, nicks eyes met mine with a warning glare.

'dont. just ignore it.'

and i do; regrettably. dad slips off his shoes with one hand supporting him against the wall. his leather bag curled tightly in his grip. i do the same. but much easier because im wearing slides and not old man shoes.

more silence. i hate silence. mostly because im the one to create it but also because this is always what its like around him. mom was the one to teach nick his social skills. and i got dads...

"so..." dad glanced around. but i dont know why because he hasn't even seen anything but the front door and hallway leading in. "it's alright for your salary."

"well, not everyone can make six figures at twenty three." it comes out lowly, mostly on purpose. but neither of them let it slide. nick shoots me a harsher glare and my dad turns to me.

"im not even here for ten minutes and you're already giving me attitude! youre just like your mother!" his voice raises naturally. for most people, it would be really easy to flinch at the sudden change in tone. but i lived 12 years with this.

normally, i would say something back and this would blow up. it would cut the visit short and he would leave all angry. or something with mom and she would kick him out again. but nicks proud of his place. and i want him to be proud. so i just look down like i feel bad.

"sorry.." im not. i wish mom was here instead.

dad only scoffs and walks in further. the silence now deathly awkward between the three of us. nick made me help him clean the whole place but leave it just slightly cluttered so dad would think we lived like this.

but im sure he knows our tricks because mom taught us that. everytime one of her friends would come over, she'd make us do the same. so im sure he knows as he eyes the walls with nothing on them.

i remember telling nick we need to get something to put on the boring walls. everything looks so dull. miles had told me he expected my room to be just as bland as the rest of the house. but, i would too.

"wheres all the decorations? it looks like you just moved it?" his low, scruffy voice booms from behind me again. his arms raise to emphasize his point even though it was completely unnecessary. i hate how much we think alike.

nick only laughed. but a fake laugh. i knew his real laugh and i knew dad didnt. "eh, ill get around to it" he brushed it off and flashed the man a grin.

this visist can not go by any slower....

꧁꧂

finished this at one am😖also lmk if anyone wants a mom visit bc if you cant tell, i have a favorite parent.