Midnight Shades

Chapter 26

"I'll see you tonight, yeah?" Louis says over the phone as I tuck the sheets of my bed.

"Yeah, of course," I grin. I last saw him a week ago, and I terribly miss him. "I'll be there at eight."

"Good," he speaks. "We're going out and it's a date."

"Oh, is it?" I bite down on my lip as I place the pillows on the bed and stand up straighter.

"It surely is, love," he laughs lightly. "Don't be late, yeah?"

"I won't," I promise. "Bye."

"Bye, love."

With a sigh, I place the phone on the nightstand and sit on the bed. It's ironic how almost three and a half weeks ago, I didn't even know where that phone was, and now I can't let it out of my sight. Louis and I are constantly texting, speaking and talking, almost as if he is here with me.

However, I miss his presence, I miss seeing his smile, and believe it or not, I miss the parlour and going there. A knock on my opened door startles me and I look up to see my father.

"Hello," he smiles gently. "What are you doing?"

"I was just cleaning the room." I say, playing with the hem of my shirt.

I haven't had a proper conversation with my father ever since my mother told me about everything, and it eats me alive. In these past weeks, I didn't give him much thought and I didn't even think about how that might affect him, and it literally suffocates me that I'm so selfish that I didn't even consider thinking about it.

But I guess I'm just avoiding it. I don't know how to open this subject and I don't know how to talk about it. I love this man dearly and with all of my heart, he is my father figure after all, and I don't care if he isn't my biological father.

"Can we chat for a little?" He asks; the same beautiful smile is still on his face.

"Of course," I breathe out the nervousness. "I want to talk, too."

He nods and closes the door behind him before walking over to me and sitting next to me. He draws in a deep breath and looks around my room with a smile on his lips.

Before I can open my mouth to say anything, he places a hand on my knee and says, "Did you meet him? Your father?"

I gulp and nod, "I did."

He nods slowly, with the smile never leaving his face. "How did it feel like? To meet your real father?" He asks, emphasising on real.

I play with my fingers as I look down at them, opening and closing my mouth repeatedly. "I was happy," I blurt out. "I don't know, I was sad, too. My emotions were mixed and unclear."

"Why though?" He gently asks. He is being so careful with his words.

"I guess I wasn't fully convinced that it was true," I shrug. "I didn't know what I was feeling."

"Well, were you comfortable there with him?" He questions, not looking at me this time.

My heart pounds faintly against my chest, not knowing how to reply or what to say. But there is no need to lie; it's pointless, even if I'm professional at it. "I was," I reply honestly. "But it really surprised me." I add.

"Why?" He simply questions.

"I don't know," I sigh. "I guess because he is like a stranger, even if he is my father." I say, whispering the last part.

"But he is." He points out, the words barely making it out of his mouth.

Again, I feel my heart beats going quicker and quicker and my eyes slowly burning with upcoming tears. I can hardly recognise the feelings I have right now. "He is," I choke out, feeling the lump in my throat increasing and getting bigger. "But so are you."