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It was difficult not to notice the amount of sheer dismay that coated her face, of which each glance that he stole sent a pang through his heart while he waited in the doorway. Slinging a white backpack over her shoulder, she approached the other man and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on as if this was a final goodbye. His large hand touched the top of her head, stroking the ropes of hair reassuringly before urging her to go along with what was still essentially a stranger to her. Begrudgingly, she obeyed; gaze cast to the floor and feet shuffling in its wake. In the same moment, the two men locked eyes; one mainly unapologetic (bring her back in one piece), the other thwarted (wonder what you’ve been telling her about me).
The door shut behind them, sealing the faint animosity in its frame as the pair left silently. The bus ride was more or less a stage for forced chatting with long periods of her uninterested silence in-between. The dull and grimy window was all that seemed to hold her attention for the entire trip, even as she murmured answers for his questions painted with a layer of sincerity. Her fingers fidgeted with her woven bracelets the whole time; when he noticed, he eased off the small talk and wordlessly entertained the obvious.
She didn’t like him.
The vehicle’s hiss signaled their stop finally- and she wouldn’t have known it if the man hadn’t stood up, indicating she should follow suit. The frigid February air greeted them again on the outside, inciting a sniffle from the girl as a leftover favor of her earlier illness as she followed behind him toward the building.
The air inside was stale, but warm. Her disenchanted grassy green eyes flickered around as the elevator made its slow approach. She could tell that he wasn’t well off, monetarily speaking. No car and a threadbare apartment in the inner city. But she had to remind herself that she had no room to judge him on that, in light of where she had been in the years past.
The small box of space that carried them up to the eighth floor seemed to make them confront the silence and insisted that something be said. They leaned against opposite corners.
“So, how do you like spending time with Bones?”
She looked up, blinked, before answering.
“She’s fun.”
Her father nodded in understanding as a faint bell sounded to mark the opening mirrored doors. They traveled halfway down the hallway before being introduced to his apartment. She made note of the fact it smelled just like his jacket; leather and cigarettes. Probably a scent that would never go away even if he never touched another one again. She didn’t mind so much.
“Put your stuff anywhere, it doesn’t matter.” He remarked. “Make yourself at home.”
Maybe he really was trying. She hung her coat over a chair and swung her backpack onto the seat.
“I have something for you, actually. One second-“ He retreated to another room while she surrendered to the couch, bouncing jovially for a moment. He came back with a short stack of things. A small heart box of chocolate, a pink stuffed alligator plastered with generic cutesy quips.
“It’s early, but- you know….” The smile it induced was enough of a reward. She offered a “thank you” that felt genuine.
“And I heard you like taking pictures, yeah?” Her teeth flash again as she nodded. “Well, I’ve had these for a long time. I don’t know if you’d like them-“ In his hand were a series of photographs, paperclipped together. Face set in what could only be described as shock, she hesitated to accept. There, on the top of the stack, was a face that only seemed to haunt her dreams anymore; only a wisp in her memories. Gold spattered eyes of emerald, freckled cheeks and a perfect smile the way she remembered. Her breath struggled, caught in her throat. She had nearly forgotten what her mother looked like. Recognition flooded back and struck her heart like a hurricane wave. Her fingers slowly moved it aside to reveal the next one, and the next. All photos of her mother. Dated, tinged and faded with time, but her warm smile shone through and perpetuated the idea that maybe she used to be happy.
“I-…never had pictures of her….” She stammered with a wavering voice, staring steadily at the images held in her hands, only at which time the man next to her become aware of the glassiness in her eyes and the trailing stroke of a tear rolling gently down her own speckled cheek.
Her inhibitions for him were suddenly absent, the solid walls she had built around herself had fallen. He’d given her one of the few things that were beyond value, that no amount of money could compensate for. It was something she figured her life would continue on without; that treasured part of her childhood to simply fade in time into nothingness. And she had it back, sitting right there in her palms.
Despite knowing how embarrassing it was to cry in front of someone, she seemed comfortable with the notion that at least it was warranted while her delicate sobs shook her shoulders and pierced the stillness between and around them. After shaking off the freeze of uncertainty that maybe he’d misjudged her desire for the gift, the inexplicable paternal instinct came over him to console her with a hand on her back. Otherwise, he was at a loss for words or any other response.
Her sniffles and attempts at oppressing the noise muddied her response of a short but honest
“Thanks,…Dad.”
aww!! ;_;
Epic awwws.
Find me at my "toboe" account
SDFKHSDFKJ I CRIED. -BAW-
lolol thanks for my silly
<3I LOVE YOU ALL<3
(No subject)
*that should say "reading"
really good man