Innocence

C A P T I V A T I N G

"You are the best thing that has ever been mine."

~🎀~

I T  W A S  time.

Freya and Falcon stood in front of familiar wrought iron gates. Freya's house could be seen from their position on the sidewalk, and so could the police car that was neatly parked beside her father's car.

Freya cast a worried look towards Falcon, but he simply squeezed her waist in reassurance.
"What-what do you think it's for?" Freya's soft voice wavered slightly as her eyes remained glued to the police car.

Realising what it was she was so afraid of, Falcon's arm around her waist tightened, pulling her closer to his side.
"I'm sure he's just worried about you, love," he winced as guilt washed over him. "He has no idea where you are."

Freya felt panic strike her gut as she imagined what her father must have been feeling the past few days. He must be devastated. And furious.

Her hand moved up to clutch Falcon's wrist that laid on her hip. She prayed to God her father would hear Falcon out before blaming it all on him. Though she wouldn't blame him if he did; he was a panicked father and she knew how it would look from his perspective. He was bound to jump to the worst conclusions.

"Come on," Falcon lightly pushed her forward as they began walking towards the gates.

Freya hesitantly pushed them open, letting out a heavy breath as they continued their trek to the front door. As their footsteps - or more so, Falcon's footsteps - echoed off the stairs, the door swung open to reveal Freya's father.

He was talking to the officer, both of them looking exhausted and lost. Her father had deep, dark circles under his eyes and Freya swore he had aged over the long weekend.

Michael's eyes turned to the couple and for a moment, nothing registered on his face. After a second, shock filled his face before relief followed quickly behind. Before they knew it, he was down the stairs, tripping over his own feet as he wrapped Freya in his arms, letting out a shuddering breath.

"Oh, my girl," he pressed her closer. "Sweetheart. You're okay. You're okay now."

Freya didn't know if he was trying to comfort her or himself. She wrapped her hands around her father's waist, settling into the comfort of his embrace as she closed her eyes and squeezed herself closer. After a moment, she glanced over her father's shoulder and met Falcon's eyes. He looked on with a small smile though it was tinged with a wry sense of sadness.

Her father finally gave her an inch of room, cradling her head in his hands as he looked her over.
"You are okay, aren't you?" he asked in a rush. "You're not hurt. Are you hurt? Are you tired? Of course, you are, what am I thinking? Let's get you inside."

He began shepherding her through the front door, but she struggled slightly in his hold, reaching out a hand for Falcon. Michael paused for a moment, only just registering Falcon's presence.

After a tense moment of silence, Michael spoke.
"You too," he said simply before ushering Freya inside.

He turned to the officer that stood in the house, giving him a grateful nod.
"Thank you for your help," he held out his hand for the man to shake.

The man returned the handshake and nod before exiting the house. As Freya and her father made their way into the living room, Falcon followed behind unsurely. He hadn't been told outright to leave, but he still felt like an unwelcome house guest. Her father's response gave him hope, though. He seemed willing to listen.