Prince in the City [Harry Styles AU]

Chapter 34

I sighed, dropping my gaze to the black puppy on my lap, who had grown in the past few months since Harry had gotten him. He wasn't asleep, just relaxing in my lap as his small tail wiggled every now and then. "I guess because he's hurt," I finally explained, feeling Harry's gaze on me as I kept mine lowered. "I mean, he's always been there, you know? I never went to see him or contacted him, but he was there. And when Mama came and told me someone stabbed him—there's a part of me that was kind of afraid, I guess?"

In a knowing tone, Harry prompted, "Afraid of what?"

Biting my lower lip briefly, I shrugged slightly before admitting, "Afraid that that was it. That he'd die without me seeing him for so long." I let out a groan, tilting my head back and looking up at the ceiling. "I don't know—I'm confused."

That was an understatement.

*****

And here I was now. For the longest time, I had made such a big deal about being angry at my dad, for refusing to see him because of what he had done to his family. He hurt and embarrassed and completely shocked us with his drug escapades that ultimately got him locked up. I was adamant on never wanting to see him, yet here I was, going against what I had said over the past eight years.

We were in the grey cemented hallway of the prison, nothing but a door separating Xavier and I from our father. Mama was already inside, giving us—mostly me—a few minutes to get my wits together before entering. The visitor's tag felt unnervingly heavy as it remained clipped to the neckline of my shirt, and part of me wanted to throw it to the ground and get the hell out of here.

But it was too late, because with one squeeze to my hand, Xavier used his free one to turn the doorknob and open the door. The two guards didn't spare us a glance as Xavier walked in, prompting me to follow behind him as I took in a deep, preparing breath. This was it.

Following Xavier through the door, I saw that it was a single roomed infirmary. The guard that had signed us in said that Dad was in the visitor's infirmary, where only one inmate got to be in it at a time when he had people visiting him, before being moved to the main infirmary which is much bigger and has more beds. This one, though, was just a room with a sink and cabinet counter on one side, two chairs, and a bed with a heart monitor on the side. One chair was occupied by my mother, and the heart monitor let out beeps every other second as it connected to the man occupying the bed.

Hesitantly, my eyes wandered over to the figure sitting on the bed, flitting past my mother who was looking at me and Xavier with a hint of concern in her eyes. But I didn't look at her for long, because my gaze landed on the man I hadn't seen for something short of ten years.

My father sat up on the bed, leaning back against some pillows as his head turned towards us upon hearing the door open. I swallowed the lump forming in my dry throat, taking in his appearance; obviously, he seemed a lot older than I remembered him to be. His short dark hair was now peppering with grey, some lines on his face that show much he's aged. A five o'clock shadow littered his jaw where a small yet noticeable purple bruise had formed, but his eyes were the same. The same hazel ones that I never seemed to have forgotten.

The grip I had on Xavier's hand tightened, though he gave no reaction, as my eyes remained glued on the older man sitting on the bed. He wore the dark grey inmate uniform, and aside from the bruise on his jaw and the I.V. stuck to his arm, he didn't show any signs of injury. But I knew that wasn't the case—he was probably wrapped up under his shirt wherever he had been attacked.

"Xavier. Vera."

His voice, deep and slightly hoarse but strikingly familiar, snapped me out of my overwhelmed daze as I looked at him, feeling my stomach tighten in knots. A mildly incredulous yet hopeful and joyed expression took over his face as he looked at my brother and I. His only two children whom he hadn't seen in years.