Labyrinth | ✓

f o r t i e t h ♂️

Took.

Placing the newspaper on the table, Father gently took his drink from its saucer and began sipping it carefully. He was apparently making sure that its blistering contents didn't enter his mouth freely, as not to burn his lips.

Despite the fierceness engraved all over his face, Father's nonchalant sitting posture suggested how eerily calm and reserved he was. I couldn't even trust the ominous look he was giving me. I slowly made an advance, while Father quietly observed every of my stiff steps, never breaking his gaze off me.

Father was supposedly busy with his work. He should be doing some business-related jobs and attending meetings. He was rarely outside of his office during this hour, except under circumstances, and usually, he would be home at around 9 or 10 at night.

With him being here, I felt my heart in my throat, pounding as fast as it could. I knew something must be up, and it judging from his expression, it was something not pretty good. A sweat trickled down my cheek, but I quickly wiped it away.

After all, Father and I brought up a huge conflict days ago, so being alone with him made it more intense. Despite so, he was faithful to his expressionless face, as if he wasn't bothered by the fight we had.

Without a word, he beckoned his head towards the chair beside him, signalling me to sit there. Swallowing the fear clumped inside of me, I walked towards the chair and slowly settled down there. The atmosphere was loaded with suspenseful air, making it so uncomfortable for me to adjust.

"What..." A dampened sound impulsively came running from my lips, which made me zip them immediately.

Despite how faint my voice was, Father raised one of his eyebrows, which made the ambience heavier than ever. I knew he also had a sharp, sensitive hearing, just like me. Another beat of sweat broke out and dripped down my chin, so I decided to continue what I was about to ask.

"What is it, Father...?"

He didn't answer firsthand, but the awkward silence that lingered between us finally drove him to speak up.

"To start off, you see, my work had been piling up since last week, so I had been pressured so much. I needed time to gather back my thoughts, that's why I'm leaving early." He breathed out deeply, slowly tapping his fingers on top of the newspaper. "I thought that this would be a perfect time for me to talk with you."

He paused, taking the time for another sip of his tea. He might seem fine and all, but his cold eyes that refused to leave me never failed to send me back to the pits.

"I apologize about my outburst back in Monday. I should have been more patient, but honestly... I'm just worried about you, especially after what I heard from your mother." Father revealed, leaning back to his chair.

"I know." I lowered my stare to the floor and shook my left leg. Mother must have told him about my degrading mental condition. At least my parents weren't aware of my other conditions, otherwise they would already go batshit crazy and would have dragged me.

"Christopher, you must do something, especially when your panic attacks had been frequent. Don't just stand there and shrug it off like you don't care." He informed. "I'm sure they will worsen."

Trust me Father, they're more than just worse. I snorted inwardly, wanting to say this aloud. They had gone far from what you expected.

"I know." I didn't know what to say, so I used my previous answer, just like a parrot.

"If you know, why didn't you take action?" Father's strict tone was gradually coming out. "You want them to stop, right? You can't just cope with your problems alone. You need help."