The Ballerina & The Devil

Forty Three. A Sanctuary in Her

Whenever I envisioned Aidan's father I usually painted a picture of something akin to the stereotypical drunk, abusive dad that had been portrayed time and time again in various Hollywood films. A heavy, unattractive man who reeked of beer, didn't care for personal hygiene, and always had a mean scowl in place at all times.

So to say he wasn't anything as I expected was the understatement of the century.

Aidan's dad was, well...hot.

The thought alone made me slightly nauseous, kind of mad, and really irritated, but it was unfortunately true. There was no other way to describe him.

He was a big guy, muscular all over, but not in a way that was completely overwhelming. I would say he was a modest version of a body builder, and it suited him. It really suited him. He was as tall as Aidan, if not a little bit taller.

His neatly cut hair was a dark shade of brown, a couple shades darker than his kids'. A five o'clock shadow beard made his slim, shapely face even more attractive than it already was. I noticed that he didn't share anybody in his household's eye color, as his were dark green (and bloodshot), but he did possess that same calculating and incredibly penetrating gaze Aidan and Briella had. Like he was trying to pick apart my brain.

Which was what he was doing right now.

I blinked and forced myself to unfreeze under the stare of Aidan's dad. "I- I-," I looked down at the mess I made on the floor. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to knock that over-"

"I would think not," his dark eyebrows raised, and I was momentarily thrown off by how much he looked like Aidan in that moment.

"I'll just clean this up," I immediately leaned down to grab the bowl but Aidan's dad was quick to stop me.

"Don't worry about it," he waved a hand, looking unbothered. "I'll get it later."

"It's not a prob-"

"I insist that you leave it," he said with firm conviction.

"Okay," I replied, backing off.

There was a thirty second moment of awkward silence before Aidan's dad spoke up.

"Aidan," he eyed his son. "It's rude of you to not introduce me to your friend. I raised you better than that."

Aidan immediately stood up and beckoned for me to do the same.

"Dad," his voice came off as flat and void of any emotion. "This is Demi Lawson. Demi, this is my...dad."

I forced myself not to flinch when his dad took a step closer and held out his hand towards me. I slipped my hand in his and shook it trying not to think about the fact that it was the very hand that had struck Aidan multiple times.

"It's very nice to meet you," I lied with a sweet smile. "Mr. Benson."

Mr. Benson faltered a bit for some reason, but was quick to recompose himself. He smiled and, again, looked strikingly similar to his son.

"Call me, Joe."

"Well, we're just going to be leaving now," my boyfriend said tensely, pulling my hand out of Joe's grasp.

"What's the rush?" His dad took a seat in the single chair and waved a hand. "Sit. Let's talk."

"I don't-"