Night Air

Chapter 31

*Alyssa's POV*

Knocking awoke me the next day and I grumbled, turning over in my sleep just to bury myself deeper into my childhood bed. For a few seconds, my room had returned to its quiet state and I was quickly drifting back off to sleep, only to jump once more when the knocking sounded again.

"What?" I muttered out. I wasn't sure how loud or rude I sounded, but either way, I heard the squeaking of the rickety hinges of my door as they worked to open.

I kept myself buried within the safety of my blankets and refused to let my face meet the morning sun. I was perfectly fine under my thick comforter so I was creating my own night time atmosphere which I craved for. I stayed up way too late (early?) texting Niall. I'm pretty sure I fell asleep waiting for his reply. Maybe he fell asleep on me and I then in turn fell asleep waiting for his text which wasn't even going to come anytime soon. Hell, maybe we fell asleep on each other.

My bed sunk in by my feet and I felt a hand on my back, shaking me slightly. "Alyssa." My dad's voice whispered to me. I knew it was him, anyways, but I still cringed at his voice. I wasn't sure if I really wanted to talk to him or not. We didn't talk at all yesterday, and then we stopped talking on bad terms on Friday evening.

"Alyssa. Wake up, princess." He continued to gently shake me as if that would let a sleeping person let go of their dreams. I wasn't even sleeping at the moment, I just didn't want to talk. "I made you breakfast... or maybe it's brunch."

My ears perked up at those words and I mentally cursed at myself when my stomach growled with the thought of food in my head. "I'm not hungry." I tiredly answered my father just as my stomach spoke again, this time a little louder. Evidentially my stomach didn't appreciate my lie.

"Yes you are." His voice sounded like it wanted to chuckle at the sentence, but nothing but a dry and failed humorously pleased sound left.

I sighed and sat up with my eyes squinted so I could just barely see. I sat up the rest of the way and pushed my blankets away. My dad was sitting there at my feet staring at me with matching green eyes. I yawned and pushed my hair back and I could only imagine how it must have looked- how I must have looked. I probably looked like I didn't go to bed until shortly before my father woke up - which I probably did.

My dad gave me a tight lipped smile and pat my knee. "Your food is downstairs, pumpkin." He leaned over and kissed my forehead before leaving my room all together. I sat there and stared at my closed door for a second. Did I want to go down there and have a talk with him? Did he really deserve a chance to explain anything? I mean, he lied to me for nineteen years over something like my brother. I feel like my whole life is suddenly a lie for some reason.

I have spent most of my life being the best person I could possibly be for my mom and for my brother whom I thought to be dead all this time. As a kid, especially after my mother's passing, I felt like I had a point to prove. I mean, I felt I had to become something special for my dad's sake. He lost his wife, and I thought he lost his son, too. I was all he had left, so I wasn't going to make him feel like he had nothing. I didn't want him to think that I wasn't good enough or that he had a failure of an only child.

I was all he had, and not only that, but he was all I had, too.

I sighed and jumped out of bed and then put some clothes on. I brushed through my hair and then put it up in a bun on top of my head, deciding I would wash it after brunch. I could already tell that I will need a shower and time to myself after this talk I know I'm doomed to have with my father.

I walked down the stairs and a plate of steaming hot pancakes and sausage sat at the bar- a tall glass of orange juice next to it. My father was leaning against the other side where the stools sat drinking coffee; I could already tell it was straight black - his favorite.