Chapter 27: Christmas
A/N: Apologies for the wait. I feel weird uploading this in February.
There's nothing like waking up to the smell of bacon and sizzling sausage. Frankly, the smell isn't something you could ever sleep through as it's meant to get you out of bed. You'd woken to it many times before when you lived with your parents growing up and you've come to know it well and have always associated it with your mother's cooking. And while it's become a part of your morning routine to not want to leave the bed, you've never been one to skip breakfast because of it. There's just something about a bed suddenly becoming more comfortable in the morning that's really dark sided now that you think about it. You've already acknowledged that you're a slow riser, much like the more sensible half of the human population.
Your eyes blinked open, vision befuddled and unfocused. It felt like you'd only closed your eyes for a second and then it was suddenly morning. The sun filled your bedroom with bright light even without the use of any artificial light. You rubbed at your bleary vision until it came into better focus. It takes all of five seconds for you to make sense of where you are. It didn't matter where you were, your sight may be addled but your sense of smell was not and the aroma of sausage from downstairs was as pungent upstairs as it would be downstairs.
In shifting your head on the pillow, a few braids fall into your face and you become fully aware of the scattered mess of hair on top of your head. You're disappointed to find that you'd forgotten to sleep in your bonnet for the night. You ended up leaning on a few of them as you attempted to lean upwards to reposition your body. Sleeping without a bonnet was a big no-no especially since Shannon had just given you a tough up less than a week prior.
As you contemplate leaving the bed, you notice that there was a slight weight around your waist. That weight turns out to be an arm that's attached to the body of another. On the rare occasion where he slept in, John would always be found wrapped around you in some form or fashion. After last night, you would've expected the man to quietly slip back into his designated room without issue. And yet despite this, the man had taken to sleeping in in the same bed after having sex with you. His gall was daring and admirable at the same time.
In the times where you'd been fortunate enough to witness him in his most vulnerable relaxed state, you'd always been awestruck by the sight. He lay on his side in a deep slumber and your eyes roamed the expanse of the man's gorgeous features. His straight dark locks were tousled and curled across the pillow. His breathing was slowed and evenly measured. While he was an older man, his facial features did not indicate as such. In fact, it looked as though he'd been drinking from the fountain of youth all his life. John Wick was truly a handsome man.
"Y'all need to go ahead and get up, it's almost nine o'clock!" A voice cuts through the air from a distance and you know it well. The morning call that signaled your downfall.
Your eyes widened in alarm and realization slammed into you with the devastating force of a battering ram.
According to your mother, it was nearly nine. For you, it was still so early. If only you didn't spend the night doing 'extracurricular activities' then you'd feel more well rested. You have no one to blame but John as you won't be taking any accountability this go around. Speaking of which…your lover is still sleeping soundly while your mother is undoubtedly making her way up to your room.
Straightaway, you start trying to rouse your slumbering paramour. As you frantically try to shake him awake, deep brown orbs slid open, taking a couple of seconds to adjust before meeting your gaze. By now, he could clearly see that you were in a state of sheer panic and yet his expression remained thoroughly unchanged.
"Get up! You have to go back to your room." You insisted. "My mom's coming."
John's eyes promptly lit up at the statement - the particular gleam in them bespoke of that reticent mirth that he was fond of. You're floored at how unfazed he appeared. Nothing about his tranquil disposition indicated that he was anywhere near as panicked as you regarded the current situation. In fact, you didn't think he even cared.
He moved with the grace of a swan but with the speed of a snail merely pulling himself into a seated position.
In the distance, you could hear your mother's distinct footsteps closing in.
With the congruity of a scared rabbit, you sprung up from the bed in outright terror, hastily scrambling to grab your discarded clothing from the floor and pull it on. Ultimately, you have to forgo your panties altogether when you're unable to find them among the rest of the pieces of clothes littering the floor.
Something like this would end up happening at the absolute worst time. There's going to be hell to pay if she walks in on you and the man completely naked in bed together. Getting skinned alive on Christmas mornings was not something you wanted to have to deal with. Needless to say, it's just too morbidly embarrassing to even think about. What's the benefit of your parents knowing that you popped your coochie in their house?
Amidst your mad struggle, you feel a sticky sensation between your legs that you hope isn't his cum trickling out of you. You never had to voice a complaint about it before for obvious reasons but one of these days, you both need to have a conversation about his constant cumming in you. By this point, your birth control has been a saving grace thus far. There's nothing you can do about it at this point in time. Not then your life was literally hanging in the balance. In a way, you hate that you're not in a position to dwell on it for as long as you can.
When the footsteps sound as close as they can be, you shoot to the door to prevent her from opening it herself and coming in. Since you already know that it's deeply ingrained in your mother's nature to just burst into your room without warning. So meeting her at the door would be the more logical course of action. Your sudden appearance in the doorway had to be surprising for her but she didn't make note of it. You pray to the lord above that you don't look fucked out of your mind.
You leaned on the frame, effectively blocking her view of the room as a whole with your body.
You had a number of scary incidents happen in your life. You'd been in the immediate proximity of a shootout, you'd been followed and threatened and held at gunpoint and you'd even been kidnapped. But none of those occurrences can hold a candle to this very moment. This was without a doubt one of the scariest moments in your entire life. Your heart felt as though it wanted to jump right out of your chest and surprisingly it didn't feel like an exaggeration.
"Mornin ma." You greeted, a forced smile having been plastered on your face at the very last second. Hopefully, the panic edged into your voice was not recognizable to her or you'd be made.
"Chile you scared me." She declared, a hand flying to her chest. "What you doing already up?" She started to question.
"I smelled you cooking."
Your mother's eyes lowered a fraction and the blood in your veins seemed to freeze. "Hm. Well you know the drill. Wash up, brush your teeth and come eat."
"Is daddy up?"
"No but he's about to get up. I didn't cook all that food for nothing." She starts to turn to the bedroom across the hall. "Want me to wake John up?"
"No!" You exclaim, trying not to sound fearful about the whole interaction. "I'll get him. You go wake daddy up."
Her brows furrow at your behavior but she ultimately accepts much quicker than you expect. "Don't be long, the biscuits are almost ready."
When you finally got the chance to close the door, your knees nearly gave out and your shoulder fell onto the hard surface. You turn back to the room and is surprised to find it completely devoid of another person.
The sight of the now empty room perplexed you in ways that you didn't think were possible. And it made you scan the room more meticulously than before. His clothing was no longer scattered along the floor.
Due to your mother arriving when she had, there wasn't any time for him to retreat to the guest room in an inconspicuous manner. It's perfectly reasonable. What didn't seem reasonable to you though was how quickly the man disappeared. Obviously the hitman's stealth skills were nothing to scoff at.
Obviously, the man was fast, really fast. But where could he have gone?
It's only when the closet door eased open did you truly become startled. John walked out from the closet fully clothing and unruffled, passively observing your frightened visage inexplicably for a weighted moment.
Sucking in a deep breath, you tried to calm your accelerated heart beat. "How did you-" The question was lingering at the tip of your tongue waiting to be answered but you restrained yourself from inquiring. "…nevermind."
He's proven that time and time and again that he's capable of extraordinary feats long before you and him even became intimately acquainted. So this shouldn't come as a surprise.
Once John finally departs from your room, you head into your personal bathroom and it doesn't take long for you to wash up. Despite this, you do take the time to clean up the mess between your thighs. Although, you'd prefer to sit in a bath for the sake of being through, a sink bath would have to suffice. Faintly, you can hear your mother fussing at your father from down the hall. Given the tone of her voice, there left no room for an argument between the two.
Sure enough, your earlier assumption about your father being hungover was proven true. He was extremely hungover. You knew that when he practically had to be helped down the stairs and generally moved around in a half-intoxicated, half drowsy stupor. Simply put, the hungover was whooping his ass in the worst of ways. He had no business downing that entire bottle of liquor like he did but you know he probably did it because it makes him more open and friendly to everyone around him.
To make matters worse, your mother had flat out refused to let him sleep in, so sleeping the hungover off was out of the question. It was likely punishment for getting unnecessarily drunk in the first place. And on Christmas no less.
As anticipated, your mother had prepared a marvelous breakfast spread that had your stomach lurching the moment you laid eyes on it. There's a reason why it's the most important meal of the day. Light chatter commenced across the table.
At first, you thought you could barely stomach looking them in the face after what transpired the previous night. In contrast, your lover had no problem doing so. He carried on as if he had not a care in the world. As if he the houseguest had not just fucked the daughter in the house of those who'd graciously hosted him for the night.
Even now, your father could barely stomach nibbling on a biscuit. After some prodding from your mother, he consumed a single piece of bacon and a few bites of eggs before he retreated to the living room with the excuse of not being able to stand the smell of food any longer. Your mother didn't care to hear that at all, citing how she slaved to make everything. You certainly didn't have a problem eating that was for sure. You weren't the least bit ashamed as John and your mother bore witness to the way you hungrily scarfed down your plate of food like you had no decorum. John was more or less used to the sight while your mother was severely appalled by the lack of home training she was sure she instilled in you.
"The food ain't going nowhere." She firmly asserted.
Truthfully, you shouldn't be as ravenous as you were at this time of morning. Food and naps were literally the main sources of energy for you and you couldn't go without one of the other. And right now, the pancakes were hitting a little too hard. The way you went overboard on the syrup could've easily shown that as you practically covered the contents of your plate in sweet, thick syrup. Technically, it wasn't about the syrup itself, you just craved the sweetness. The food seemed to ease the heaviness in your stomach.
The exchange of gifts begins right after breakfast and you have just as much excitement about it as an adult as you did when you were a child. Only this time, you're more excited about the gifts you bought for your loved ones than the gifts you're going to receive in return. You just want to see the look on their faces when they rip off the wrapping paper from the presents. You guess it rings true when they say people get more joy from giving than they do receiving.
You even texted your friends about them coming to get their gifts as well with the added threat about them each having you one at the ready or else. You didn't go out of your way to get them good presents just for them to turn around and forget to give you one.
The comical way in which your father is wrapped up in his black robe almost makes you laugh. Especially when you consider that he never wears that robe. Ever. Your mother still wouldn't let him fall asleep until after the gifts were opened and that no doubt had him pissy but he wouldn't dare go against her. He wasn't as heavily-lidded and lethargic as before since your mother supplied him with some potent painkillers to combat his headache and nausea.
Your mother opened her present from your father first. The box is long and narrow and you don't know what it could be until she lifts the lid. A beautiful sepia-colored mink coat meets your line of vision - it causes your mother to sit aside her cup of coffee out of exhilaration. Something she'd actually done before. She immediately began inspecting the coat, rubbing at the soft looking fur in an admirable manner. She wasted no time shredding her housecoat in favor of trying on the brand new coat. It wasn't a secret that she received nice things from him often but it would appear that your father had outdone himself this year. The growing smile on his face tells you that he already knows. In all your years of being the man's daughter you knew full well that he loved seeing your mother happy and he'd do whatever to make it happen as often as he was able.
Your mother tried a few modeling poses and stances just to be sure that the coat fit the way she wanted it to. That way she could move how she wanted. Having been through her closet many times, you know that she had more than a couple of tall, thigh high boots that would go perfectly with the new coat. That way if she wanted to dance like Mary J. Blige then she surely could.
When she was assured the needed mobility, your mother carefully took it off and neatly folded the coat before going over to give your father a kiss. Her gift to him was a set of silk pajamas that were his favorite color.
They might go at it like cats and dogs but they loved each other and made it a constant habit to show that love.
Next up was your gifts to them and you had the gifts marked from you and John. You got her a designer handbag and a paid spa coupon that's good for a full year. You're lucky you went with the color you did, as it matched her new fur. She can sometimes be picky with gifts due to her being a spoiled wife courtesy of your father.
Your father on the other hand got a brand new tool set. In the few times you'd come over to the house, he'd been complaining that someone was stealing his tools. The truth of the matter was that he was probably misplacing them but there's no way he'd willingly accept the notion. Regardless of that fact, you made it your mission to get more for him. You even thought to procure a better box for him to keep the tools in.
You handed him the overly heavy box. "Thank you babygirl. I can't wait to walk into the job and show these off. It's gon be some mad suckers in there!" He gloated.
"I already know." You nodded.
The present from your father was wrapped in bright, sparkly wrapping paper and you didn't know if you should be worried or not. The way it was even wrapped, not at all neat like your mother's handiwork, let's you know that he'd personally wrapped it himself.
It takes all of five seconds for you to rip open the paper and you're shocked by what you find underneath. He's gotten you an all in one makeup kit.
The kit came with the standard tools and products like lipsticks, eyeshadow, shades, blush, eyebrow pencils and even a tiny handheld mirror. You didn't even know that those were still around. The products are cheap and the bristles on the so-called brushes were hard. The plastic box they came in boasted that it was hypoallergenic and paraben-free as if that made a difference. None of it was from Sephora and you're sure if you attempted to use anything from the kit your face would break out in hives. And you're being dead serious - none of it can touch your face or it might disintegrate. If he knew the cost of certain makeup products that you were used to using then he'd probably have a stroke. Your father knew next to nothing about cosmetic products.
You were speechless, you couldn't do anything but stare down at the kit in your lap. It reminds you of the makeup kits from the dollar store that little girls beg their mother's to buy for them. Instantly, you were taken back to a time when you were ten and wanted to start wearing makeup for the first time. Your father fiercely objected while your mother simply compromised by buying you shiny lip gloss in secret.
Judging from the look on his face, your father was very proud of his gift for you. It's also established in that moment that he still thinks of you as a little girl. His little girl. The concept isn't news to you, you've always known it.
Your face shifted a couple of times, in view of the fact that it just couldn't settle on the expression you wanted to convey. Worse still, your father appeared to be eagerly awaiting your response. Unsure of what to say, you locked eyes with your mother who up until that point was trying to contain her rising amusement that would soon turn into laughter. You didn't think the situation was funny but that was expected of you. Still, you read the look in her eyes easily enough and you know what you have to do.
Put on a show of gratitude.
In lieu of that, you chose to offer a kind smile due to the lack of other options. "Thank you daddy. I love it."
All the while, your mother had completely concealed her mouth behind the mug of coffee. Clearly, she didn't want to be seen laughing by your triumphant father who's convinced that he's just bestowed you with the greatest gift on earth.
At the end of the day, he'd really tried to get the perfect gift for you. Something he thought you'd really like. It was not for you to spoil that satisfaction. He had the right idea; he just failed the execution.
With that, your father sat back in his chair, glowing satisfaction marring the entirety of his features. You think it's just an instinctual desire to please his child until you notice how his eyes flick over to meet John's even gaze. The look he gave the latter was snide and gloating. Obviously meant as a challenge. The other man had sat adroitly on the couch watching the proceedings quietly. John didn't display an outward reaction but you know in your heart that the challenge presented by your father wouldn't go uncontested.
With him being in a silent competition with John, you expected better. Honestly, you thought he was past childishly quarreling with your significant other but it would appear that he still had some left in the tank.
Sitting the makeup aside, you reached over to a particular set of presents near the tree. Now comes the moment of truth. There was a reason why you gave your parents their presents first. You'd be lying if you said you weren't anxious about giving your lover the presents you acquired for him. Your heart should not be thumping like it was. You spent quite a bit of time finding out what you want to give him. What could you get a man that already has everything?
This specific present was obviously the heaviest out of the bunch. You didn't dare pick it up, instead you slid the box towards John. Having sensed your distress, the man in question picked up the box with relative ease and you looked up at him meekly.
He carefully studied the box before beginning to deftly tear away the paper.
Your breath caught in your throat as you awaited his reaction.
The books were very dated, heavy books. To your knowledge they were also in short supply and not currently being printed anymore. It was only through a miracle that you were able to obtain them since you can't even make out the lettering on the cover. They were shipped from some place in Russia that you can't even pronounce and for a brief moment you were worried that they wouldn't arrive in time. Frankly, you don't know a thing about Russian literature but you know that he his affinity to occasionally speak to you in what you assumed to be the Russian language and a mostly concealed hobby for restoring old books, you figured that he may appreciate some classic Russian folktale books.
"Oh I also got you this!" You babbled excitedly, while you reached under the tree for a smaller present.
Scooting closer, you reached out and handed it to him. He unwrapped it and looked over the leather. Since, he's a man that travels frequently and a nice, stylish billfold wallet would be convenient for him to use. Plus the leather is high-quality and mostly durable.
"And there's one last thing." You added.
You know that you were barely giving him time to process all you'd gotten for him but you just couldn't wait. Specifically, when you'd been waiting for the longest to give him the last one. Your hands are shaking as you hand him the very last box that was even smaller than the one before it. Though you genuinely wanted to know what he thought about the other gifts, this one in particular held the most weight.
The pocket watch was a sliver, open face with a chain tail attached to the top loop. It's a lightweight, portable piece. It's small in the palm of his hand. The inside of the circle contains a distinctive, decorative pattern. That protects the reinforced glass cover of the watch. The tick of the watch was gentle, subtle even. Much like him.
While his keen eyes inspected the beautiful letting inscribed into the timepiece, you anxiously anticipated a response. "I noticed that when you came back from one of your trips that one of your wrist watches was broken. It was just sitting around so I thought you might want another one. At first, I was going to get the same brand just to replace the one that was broken but…I wanted this one to symbolize something more. Also this one won't be broken so easily."
You continue explaining your choice of gift to him. "I know it's really old but it's simple and I know you like simple. Like the billfold, you can have it with you when you travel. It's really convenient to have. I had it engraved too."
Most of all, you appreciated the meaning behind it. To you, it's not just an accessory. As it symbolizes something much more deeper, more intimate. The passage of time. You meeting him was unquestionably one of the best things to ever happen. Particularly, when he'd entered your life at a time where you didn't exactly know what you were doing in your own life to begin with. A time where you felt that you had no direction. Nevertheless, it's a beautiful token of your love.
You had no idea that watches like this were so expensive. Though it's not really about the money that went into procuring it.
That rare softness that you'd come to know and love returned to his eyes. Your lover's warm hand comes down to delicately cup the side of your face and you melted instantly. Just his mere touch elicited a feeling that encapsulated your heart entirely. Instinctively you leaned into the hand, tenderly placing yours atop his while he gazed down at you inscrutably with dark brown eyes. He didn't have to verbally convey what he felt, especially since he typically conveyed his feelings through action.
The intimate moment lasted for a moment longer until someone cleared their throat very loudly. Whether it was your father or mother, you couldn't accurately tell. It probably was needed since you'd nearly forgotten that your parents were in the room and your face subsequently flushed.
John sets aside the timepiece before moving to retrieve what you assume to be his own gifts for you. In his hands was a tiny box with a bow wrapped around it and the sight of it gives you heart palpitations immediately. You drew in a shaky breath. It can't be what you think it is - it just can't be. Surely he wouldn't do such a thing at a time like this and in front of your parents too. Would he?
In the background, you could hear noises from the furniture, likely your parents shifting their positions slightly as they surveyed the scene in front of them. Apparently, you wouldn't be the only one that needed to be defibrillated if a certain 'proposal' took place.
At the thought, your pattern of breathing had become thrown off and one of John's brows lifted in question. He didn't offer a comment regarding your behavior. He then opened the box without delay, revealing a different piece of jewelry than you were expecting and your breathing soon began to even out.
It's a rose-gold heart-shaped necklace or more factually, a locket. It's polished and gleaming. There's even tiny diamonds embedded in it that mesmerize you by sheer appearance alone.
One of your hands came up over your chest. "It's so pretty."
You quietly observed John as he removed the necklace from the box.
"Put it on." He gently urged.
You stoutly waited as the man secured the linked chain around your neck. His fingertips lightly graze the skin of your neck. It hangs from your neck entrancingly. When you open it, a blank space stares back at you. Something needed to occupy that empty space soon, a tiny picture maybe? But of what? As you considered the viable options, John calmly slid the next present in front of you.
So the two of you got three gifts for each other. You guess that you and him think alike more than you originally thought.
"You know, I was kind of hoping for some more of those cookies but this is much better." You laugh, caressing the necklace.
To your great amazement, the man wordlessly slides a metallic tin in front of you with an expectant look.
Through the clear plastic, the contents of the tin are freely revealed to you and straight away you're elated at the sight. It's a container chalked full of cookies - the ones you were practically addicted to. Of course he had cookies for you - the man doesn't miss a beat. It felt like it had been so long since you'd had them and you'd probably go through them within a week.
There's a teal envelope sitting across the top of the tin that you didn't pay much attention to at first. "What's this?"
Even as you look to him for an answer, his expression remains cryptic.
It's an envelope, it could be anything. It was too thin to hold money. You open it fully expecting a card of sorts, only to be surprised when you pull out two rectangular pieces of paper and an influx of confusion rapidly takes over. Upon further inspection, you discovered that they were two airline tickets - for a flight to Belgium to be exact.
You almost fell over right then and there.
The prolonged surprise had you stuck. You looked at him then back at the tickets a total of four times out of sheer disbelief. "I don't understand."
"You can still obtain more cookies." His deep, calm baritone articulated.
Did this mean what you thought it meant?
"What is it?" Your mother impatiently asked. For a second time, you'd forgotten that you had an audience present and you would've rolled your eyes had you not been caught in a complete state of shock.
"They're tickets to another country…but why?" You questioned, still staring incredulously at the tickets in your hands.
"I figured that you needed a change in scenery. A chance to see new things and view new places." He assured.
Your heart inadvertently skipped a few beats and it took you some time to process the gathered information before you could plan the next move.
Belgium? Was he serious? You'd never even traveled out of the country before - barely even been out of New York.
"Don't I need a passport or something for this?"
John calmly regarded you, the poised planes of his face undisturbed. "Everything is taken care of."
"Wait- what?!"
"We leave in two days." He said.
Oh. He was well and truly prepared for it. He'd already made the necessary accommodations. His words even seemed to impress your parents, well, your mother at least. Your father was still set on glaring daggers at your lover who'd remained unfazed by the attention. It would appear that your father's scrutiny was having absolutely no bearing on the man whatsoever.
Truthfully, you aspire to John's level of unbothered.
Though, you might've spoken a little too soon. As John's eyes placidly cut to your father's in a brief moment of pettiness and the men shared a searing look of obscure contention. Not coincidentally, your father's triumph look had been completely wiped away by the other man's efforts. The silent stare had more charged energy than you've seen the whole time you and John had been there - it caused the air in the room to shift drastically.
Although you didn't want your delayed reaction to be interpreted wrong, at this point, you were completely outdone by this whole situation.
"Chile you thinking too much. You're going on vacation, that's all that matters." Your mother explained with a huge smile decorating her features.
The older woman's words seemed to snap you back to reality. Maybe she was right. You could be overthinking everything. There's no need to focus on the extra. The man had just gifted you with a paid vacation to a place you'd never been before and here you were wondering about why he would do such a thing. Your biggest concern at the present should be preparing for said trip. Honestly, you don't even want to think about all the outfits you'll have to get together and pack.
An upsurge of happiness filtered through you.
In most cases, the best thing anyone can give another person is the gift of travel and the opportunity to gain new life experiences. Frankly, you deemed it to be better than any other over the top gift he could possibly give you. An international trip sounded delightful even at this time of year.
You thought about speaking but you didn't know what to say. Although thank you would be a good start. The man told you to surprise him all while fully knowing that he was planning to surprise you in his own way. Well played. It's just one of the many instances where he's shown you time and time again that he always has your best interests at heart. His kind, generous heart would forever sway your own.
There's nothing like a romantic partner that makes you feel provided for, adored, happy, and wanted. Contentment began to fill your heart at the revelation.
As of now, you're still at a loss of how to express your gratitude, a simple thank you isn't enough. So without warning, you practically jumped onto him with the sole intent of engulfing him in a hug but you think you mostly succeeded in knocking the air out of the both of you.
Back upstairs, you'd retreated into the bedroom and immediately phoned your friends because you couldn't wait until later in the day. Not that it was a problem, they always awaited any phone call concerning your life or any gossip they were yet privy to.
"I'm still in shock about it. For weeks I'd been telling him that I was tired of seeing the same things and being in the house. He listened each time and I guess he wanted to do something about it." You explained.
"Belgium? I don't even know where the fuck that is." Alexis claimed.
"I think it's a part of Europe." Jasmine remarked, though she didn't sound too confident with her assumption.
"Talk about applying pressure. Meanwhile Pj wanna take me to Virginia to meet some of his family. I don't want to go to no fuckin Virginia!"
"How long y'all gon be there?" Jasmine queried.
"A few days to a week maybe…I didn't really ask, I was too busy trying to pick my jaw up from the floor."
"Well I'm happy for you. Just make sure you bring your ass back. I don't want to hear nothing about you going missing or deciding not to come back." Alexis professed.
Your brows furrowed. "Girl…now why would I want to move over there?"
"I don't know! You know how those white women on Tik Tok travel to different places then decide to make a new life in the country." She animatedly described.
You could almost see the hand motions she was likely making through the phone. You shook your head at her assertion. She was just as looney as she can possibly be.
"Alexis stay off tik tok okay. That shit is rotting your brain." You proclaimed.
Still, you're aware of how much time the popular social media app can take up. You'd downloaded the app once after you'd gotten tired of them both sending you videos that you couldn't even watch. At first, you hadn't even realized how time consuming it could be until three hours goes by without your noticing. It's wild considering that you don't even spend a lot of time on social media like that anyway.
"I'm trying to tell y'all that these are the facts. Watch and see what I tell you. She's gonna go over there and we'll never see her again. Her man probably already got a house over there right now. As a matter of fact…tell him to get me a ticket I wanna go too." She hilariously insisted.
"Lord, just send me a sign. What do I need to do to get flewed out? Do I have to find me an old man or what?"
You gave a loud hearty laugh at that. It's always when you start talking with them that you realize that you hadn't had your daily dose of laughter. "Look if I could take y'all with me I would. But I think this is supposed to be a romantic getaway type trip."
"Does your grandma still go to late night bingo?" She continued. " Maybe I can snatch me up somebody from there."
Frankly, you couldn't see Alexis dating any man past forty and you're ninety-nine percent certain that she couldn't don't even know why she's playing like that. With how lovely she was on a daily basis an older man just wouldn't cut it for her. Besides, John's not even that old…you think.
"That's so pitiful…what about Pj?" Jasmine asked, trying to stifle her own cackles.
"If I start bringing them bands home then he shouldn't have anything to complain about. I don't mind being a sugar baby who doesn't give out any sugar. It'll be fine. I know one thing though…girl your old man is literally flying you out to another country just because he can. First thing you need to do when y'all land is suck-"
Jasmine was swift to cut that statement short. "Girl be quiet you on speaker phone!"
"Well tell whoever to quit listening!"
"Whatever. See this is why we need to plan our girls trip and I've been saying it for the longest. Look I know I've said this a hundred times, but we really need to travel as a group more. I still wanna go to Jamaica dammit!"
As the mother figure of the group, Jasmine always took initiative to try and plan things for the group to enjoy. She's the one who looks up the venues and restaurants the group wants to frequent. For a while now, she'd been suggesting taking a trip whether it be in another state or out of the country.
"I mean…we can still go. There's nothing stopping us."
"Not necessarily-"
"Yeah. Only our jobs, school, and the amount of money it takes to travel anywhere. Everything's expensive nowadays." Alexis mentioned.
"Well I have to go. We can talk about it later, just come get y'all presents." You say before hanging up the phone and placing it on your vanity.
Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn't help but admire the piece of jewelry. As much as you wanted to, you didn't find it hard to believe that he felt you were special enough to buy you jewelry seeing as how he freely gave you loads of money in the early stages of the relationship to spend at your heart's content. And almost a year later, the hitman continues the practice. Now, he's elevated to a desire to take you out of the country for a trip.
Your stomach fluttered excitedly with rising sentiment.
Just thinking of the trip caused a feverish state of anticipation to come over you. You always wanted to be able to travel when you had the funds and when it was convenient.
After one last once over of the locket, you began to head back downstairs. Along the way, you spot your father ambling up the stairs just about to enter the hallway you were walking down. When he spots you he offers a charitable smile, the very one you were used to seeing from him.
"Hey there baby girl." He voiced cheerfully.
Despite the fact of him smiling, the despondent look in his eyes made you slow in your stride. "Hey daddy. You okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah. I um…I gotta talk to you about something." He says, blinking rapidly before looking away.
The first thing you noted was that he sounded upset, you could even see it in the half-formed movements he unconsciously made. Of course, it doesn't help being cognizant of things of that nature. In addition to that, your father never had any difficulty maintaining eye contact with you. There was no telling how this particular conversation would go but you preferred to remain practical in all situations you happen to find yourself in.
He was clearly flustered, something you didn't see often when he came to him. You'd never not known your father to be anything but a confident man. His eyes shifted a couple of times and you got the distinct feeling that he might be somewhat uncomfortable. Being the type of person he was, seeing this kind of behavior from him was really strange. It left you remarkably bemused for lack of a better word. However, you do get the feeling that he's grappling with some pretty complicated feelings himself.
"I was wrong…about him. About John." He expressed.
The declaration had you stiffening and a heavy feeling settling in your stomach. You can't really explain how that comment makes you feel.
From the very beginning, the man wasn't all that welcoming of you and John's courtship. That was obvious. But after that affectionate display in the living room, John had single handedly proven to your father what his role in your life was and that he was here to stay. Whatever expectations your father had set for the potential suitors that would inevitably come into your life, John had clearly exceeded those tenfold. Not only that but in a way, John's actions very closely mirrored your father's own when it comes to your mother and you figured that your father had made that distinction as well.
"What I saw back in there…that was - something." He complimented. "Something a true man that really cares for his woman would do."
You hadn't expected him to give a compliment concerning John but there was nothing wrong with giving a compliment when it was warranted.
"Even before he gave you those tickets, I saw that look in your eyes. After he opened your gift. I saw the way you looked at him. Full of love and adoration. Thanks to your mother I know it well and can easily recognize it as the look of a woman being loved and cared for."
"Bottom line is…I misjudged the guy. He's shown that he's a standup man especially when it comes to you." His nose wrinkled a few times and you steeled. What really floored you was seeing how he tried to force a smile a number of times but you weren't fooled in the slightest. "...and I um-"
"I'm sorry about how I acted. I've been a prideful man all my life but I know it takes a better man to apologize when he's in the wrong." That's when you hear it in his voice - he's getting choked up. Already this was the second instance in which he'd become openly emotionally transparent with you. You almost couldn't believe it - your indomitable, steady-going father would come to you bearing his heart and admitting his wrongdoings so unabashedly.
He sounded extremely remorseful and your chest started to ache. The most he was probably feeling at the moment was shame for how he's acted the entire time you and John were present.
"I know and I already forgave you last night." You whispered.
He dismisses the words with a small wave of his hand. "Just let me finish."
"I didn't know it at first but now I realize that he's the right kind of man I want to see my daughter with. Now whether you chose to continue being with him or not. I just wanted to tell you that he's…he's alright with me." He nodded stiffly.
You feel profound joy at the sincere utterance and it nearly nearly moved you to tears because it's all you wanted to hear from him. It's what makes having honest conversations like this important. In a burst of emotion, you took your father into your arms with a firm, loving hug. It didn't take much to realize that both you and him were in need of one. Now it felt like he was capable of putting his pride to the side and fully accepting John as you wanted. And that's okay. Things won't always happen naturally. You much prefer this as opposed to him angrily lashing out at the other man because his masculinity felt threatened.
Before you know it, your own face begins to scrunch up against your will and giant tears threaten to roll down your face. You can't stand seeing other people cry. It's the perfect trigger for you to do the same. Sadly, your efforts at attempting to control your emotions were not as rock solid as his. It's just as annoying as those thirty second, unskippable YouTube ads.
"Thank you daddy." You smiled.
"...as long as I'm still the favorite man in your life." He added.
Oh he just couldn't wait to include that.
That statement from him was right on par with his usual demeanor and it's exactly what you expected. It made you laugh. After such an emotional exchange you could even say that it was needed.
But he was right though - you'd always be a daddy's girl.
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