invasato [h.s]

64

I give a little shrug. "Well, I'm doing it for Harry mostly."

I don't see a point in being fake friendly to him. I've gotta be tough until I know he's trustworthy.

He dips his head down with a chuckle. "Well I appreciate that too."

"So, what's the deal? Why come back into his life after so long?" I question, leaning back in the booth.

"Diving right into it?" he smirks, a familiar smirk that I can't help but see Harry in. "We haven't even ordered food yet."

"I'm curious."

"We've got nothing but time, Elaina. Actually, I wanted to get to know more about you." he says.

There's something about his tone and his mere atmosphere that I can't trust. I don't know what it is, maybe the fact that Harry has a rough past with him, but I'm closed off. I'm wary.

"Like what?" I ask.

He shrugs, glancing out the window with his hands folded atop the table. "Oh, I don't know, really. What you're about. Your passions. Your history." he looks at me.

I clench my jaw. "Well I'm here because I wanted to pursue a painting career, I told you that at Angela's."

"Right, yes." he nods. "You wanted to go to Paris."

"That's the goal."

"Still?"

"I believe so." I respond.

"So," he rubs his chin. "Why didn't you go straight to Paris? Why'd you stop here?"

I furrow my brows. "I...I had a place to stay here. Zayn was very generous to let me move in while I found my footing." I explain. "I didn't have the means to head straight to Paris in such a short amount of time."

He nods as if he gets it.

"You were in a rush to get out of Denver, I assume?" he asks.

I'm having flashbacks to when Harry questioned me in Zayn's kitchen on one of the first nights I knew him.

"Kind of, yes."

"Why?"

Yeah, I'm over this.

I jut my lip and shrug once again. "Same reason you left your son in Manchester...to get away."

His lip lifts and he leans back in the booth with a laugh. "Look, Elaina I'm not trying to grill you here. Just trying to get to know my son's girlfriend."

"Harry and I are happy. We take care of each other." I cross my arms as I rest my back against the cushion.

His brow raises. "Are you implying that he doesn't need me."

"He's done alright without you so far." I say.

I'm a little shocked with myself at how cold I'm being, but I feel no warmth when it comes to Thomas. Being feisty will humble him a little. Maybe he'll realize just how badly he fucked up as a father.

"Harry is slowly starting to accept me again. Don't make this about you and what you think is best for him." Thomas states, leaning in. "Remember, blood is thick. You may be an important part of his life right now but I'll forever be his dad."

Harry has never once referred to Thomas as 'dad'. It's clear as to why he hasn't, because Thomas hasn't been much of a dad at all. He hardly even deserves the father title in my opinion. What sort of 'father figure' has he been?

I look down at my lap, looking at my skirt as I try to decide whether I should be polite or not. I think of Harry, and I think about what he's going through and if I really am making this about me. I've seen him break down over the man in front of me, I've witnessed firsthand how all the trauma resurfaces when he's in front of his father. Even the thought of how damaged this man has caused Harry to be makes me seethe.