Living with Hope ✓ [ boyxboy ] [ Completed ]

13 | KNOTTED

13 | KNOTTED
Tying A Knot Would Be Easy If My Stomach Wasn't In One Already

Ivan's POV

Funerals are expensive.

The bill is split between my father, the Hopes and whatever money we received through crowdfunding. I personally didn't want to get the Hopes involved, they're already doing enough, but Dr Richard insisted and he happens to be very good at convincing people (like his older son). I'm positive he donated half of the crowdfunding we received but I decided not to bring it up.

It's been two days since Mama passed but it feels more like an eternity. The funeral's taking place in a couple of hours in the only cemetery in town. . And I don't have a suit to wear. Or the only suit I own is in my father's house and I have no wish to see him before I meet him at mama's funeral.

Besides, I'm not sure the suit would fit me anymore, now that I'm a couple of inches taller and more muscular than I was when I bought the suit.

Alexander Hope enters our room, wearing a white shirt and black trousers. His jacket is folded on his hand, a red tie placed on it. I'm still in my shorts and faded t-shirt.

He raises a brow. "Why aren't you--" he stops himself, perhaps in realization. "You don't have a suit?" He asks.

I bend my head downwards so that some of my long hair covers my face. I really need a haircut.

He sighs, then nods at me. "Come along," he says, glancing at the door and taking a step towards it, indicating that we were to go out of the room.

I look at him in confusion. "We're not going out shopping or anything," I tell him firmly. "We're not buying me a suit."

"All right," he agrees, without an argument, surprisingly. Then he gestures at the door again. "Now come along."

I follow him downstairs and then into a room I've never ventured into before. He stops in front of a massive cupboard and opens it. Inside there's an array of formal jackets and trousers and ties, in every appropriate color and every style possible.

"Whoa," I blurt in amazement.

"I used to work in Louis Vuitton," he explains. "And whenever there was a clearance sale, I'd get an employee's discount and bring them all home. Except for a couple, I've worn most of these only once or so. What a shame."

I survey the suits. Blues and Blacks, mostly. Some grays and browns, and there's one green suit. "Where do you work now?" I ask.

"A local ice cream shop." He chuckles. "So now I don't have to worry much when I have to treat my friends."

I shake my head, still looking at the suits in awe.

"I should take you there someday," he says. "The ice cream shop."

I stare at him. "They'd love to have a Wildcat in their store, wouldn't they?"

"The rivalry!" He exclaims as he sighs and leans against the wall next to the cupboard. "How could I forget?" He shakes his head and mutters something to himself which I can't pick up.

"What?" I ask.

"No, nothing." He shakes his head, dismissing my question. "You can pick anything you want. I told you, I don't use them much. Don't hesitate."

Sighing, I turn my attention back to the suits. My eyes land on a classic black suit with three buttons and a notch lapel. I pick the suit out and feel its fabric. Soft and firm, like any good suit would be.