Fallen Queen

~ C H A P T E R T W E N T Y ~

He doesn't invite me inside. "I almost thought you'd forgotten we existed, Achelois," he says in a hard tone, before moving out of the way. I feel the irritation rise in me as I raise my eyebrows and suppress the urge to retort. Plopping down on the couch, I cross my legs and run my hand over the smooth leather. Dad sits down on the sofa across me and picks up the half empty cup of coffee. "I guess I'm just lucky to have you in the house, Achelois," he lets out a mirthless laugh, "What made my day so auspicious, huh?"

"It's funny how our guesses turn into expectations and kill us, right, Dad?" I smirk slightly, but without any traces of funny elements, "Like how I guessed my Dad was just busy and couldn't spare a second for his biological daughter," I sneer slightly and pause, letting the stress on the word 'biological' sink in, "Yet here we are, running into Dad on a random day, having coffee with his dearest sonny, Deccy."

"Those matters are off limits, Achelois," he replies after a long bout of stubborn glaring, "I've been really busy- but you haven't exactly come down to meet us."

"Oh, so now there's an 'us'?" I look to the side and laugh- I spot Mom. I wave at her as she stares back at me with a blank expression on her face, "Hiya, Mom," I turn back to Dad, "So, where were we?" I act as if I were cross-questioning him and then answer myself, "Yeah, Dad. If my absence doesn't matter," I shake my head with a disgusted expression on my face, "My presence is equally meaningless."

"Look at you, how arrogant and brash have you gotten, Achelois Circe?" Dad hisses, "Barely twenty five and you're already acting the head-"

"Already fifty seven years and twenty three years and five months of having a daughter, Dad," I cut him off, "And you still fail to keep in mind how old your biological daughter is."

The silence is so intense that you could hear a pin drop; the glaring so extreme that it could burn a city down.

"How have you been, Mom?" I ask her, not quite interested in how she has been, anyways- not taking my glare off Dad, either. I can see her nod from the periphery of my vision. "Fine."

"It's been about half a month since you've been back," he says again, after a long pause.

"It has been," I shrug and lean back. The awkward silence is back again. It's funny how we know expectations are toxic yet we cling onto it as if we were drowning in disappointment- it's like everybody knows love would only let you down in the end- they still believe in it. I wonder if they'd ask me about the journey, about the settling in part- nothing at all.

"Well, you seem to have a knack for being with that boy, what's his name again," Dad scratches his head, "The one who you pick fights with."

"Theodore."

"Ah, yeah," he states, "You've made quite a number of public appearances with him, yet do not have time to drop by."

"Or maybe it's just that you're never there, Dad," I sigh, "He's my boss and a friend, nevertheless."

"I thought you steered clear of boys and unnecessary rumors, Achelois," He opens his phone and flashes a few pictures that I'm quite bored of now.

"This is a drag, Dad," I shake my head and sigh, "People who keep reminding me of this stupid stuff are more annoying than the articles and tabloids itself," I shrug and lean back, "I don't have time to love or hate. This is a waste of time- ironically, I don't care either."

"Careful, otherwise you may end up wronged, Achelois," he jeers, "And what's with your clothes? You're finally becoming a 'someone' in the business industry, Achelois," he shakes his head, "Some people just don't grow up."