Double upload today :)
xoxo
Atlas
That last conversation kept me up at night every fucking day till Sunday came around.
"The only thing that can bother me would be something that bothers you, how others feel about it is entirely useless to me..."
There was absolutely no fucking reason he had to say something so... so...
Fuck, I thought to myself.
My heart must've been set on fucking autopilot years ago because I have never, in all my years of existing, felt so out of control with my emotions until that moment.
"Damn." I had whispered in return, sounding about as stupidly lovestruck as one possibly could. The rough chuckle Errol let slip past his lips, made me thank the good lord I was already laying in bed, because my legs would've gave out.
Luckily he took hold of the conversation before I could say anything else so incredibly stupid. "Then it's decided, you tell whoever you want to tell. Conversations with my father are not particularly my favourite way to pass time, so you have no reason to be worried. Like I said, general questions only."
His words sounded so reassuring Friday night, but now that Sunday evening was pulling right up to my fucking doorstep, I felt the complete opposite of calm.
"It's not a date." I told Nyra for the hundredth time, as she helped me straighten my tie. This was the inevitable downside to having her help dress me, the only times I did that was when I actually cared about how I looked, and that only happened when I had an event to care about. That was rare.
It didn't take long for her to piece together where I was going, and it took even less time for her to offer to drive me. At first I was absolutely against that idea, but when it dawned on me that I would probably be a whole lot less nervous if she drove me instead of Errol, I eventually agreed.
This agreement then led to a serious of interrogation questions, so was I really winning anything here? I couldn't tell.
"You say all that, but you're literally wearing your favourite blue tie. Your actions are speaking much louder than your words here, my love."
"It's not even like that! First of all, why would I call this a date when Errol's father is going to be there? Do you know how long it's been since I've seen Doug? This has to be the complete opposite of what a date is." I tried to remind Nyra of knowledge she already knew.
"You're right. You both skipped the dating part and went straight to meet the parents." She countered.
"I've already met the parents!" I shot back with, only causing Nyra to chuckle as she gave my shoulders the pat of approval. Apparently this glow up montage had come to an end in my Cinderella retelling.
"And that's what's even crazier. Every time I think about how this happened, the plot thickens like some well done roux for gumbo."
I rolled my eyes at this, essentially accepting defeat because of all her help this evening. If I could count on Nyra for nothing else, she was great at making me look less like a degenerate.
Errol only boosted her now elevated ego by his reaction to my cleaned up look.
Nyra had walked me to his fucking door like she was my mother, and I only allowed it because I didn't have Dash with me tonight. I thought it was best to keep him at home, even though I knew Errol wouldn't have cared if I brought him. Dash was actually starting to warm up to him, and watching Errol put in such effort made me smile every time I thought about it.
Please get it together, I begged myself as Nyra rang the door bell.
Doug had stayed in the same house he bought with Lia, and that familiar door bell brought back their own horrid set of memories. The good memories. The bad memories. I was ready to hightail it the hell out of there, but the door opened before I could.
"Sorry for the delay-" Errol started to say something, then he stopped himself completely. "Fuck..." He whispered under his breath.
I felt a nudge at my ribcage before Nyra leant closer to my ear to whisper "I did good, babes. I did so fucking good."
That was the start of the heart palpitations, which did not stop the entire goddamn night.
Errol
Yeah I knew I fucked up as soon as I swung that front door open.
Like it was the most in my face fuck up I had possibly ever made. And that's saying a lot because my rap sheet could hold it's own.
I had literally hyperfocused on the fact that my father could very well fuck this whole dynamic up for me, I hadn't taken into account the fact that I hadn't seen Atlas for days. Right now, my body was registering days as decades which meant the greatest threat to revealing Atlas and I's relationship... was me.
I was about to be my greatest op.
The first word said it all, as "fuck" tumbled passed my lips with absolutely no filter whatsoever.
This was the first time I was seeing Atlas's hair styled. Usually, it fell whichever way he chose for the day, a chaotic mess if you may, with often times small bits of clay clumping strands together as a clear indication of where he ran his hands through it.
He wasn't in his usual overalls, and instead wore a crisp white shirt with a bright blue tie hanging down his slender frame. The well fitted black pants looked like they were tailored to him, with worn leather shoes that gave his look this aged appearance.
The way his striking blue tie paired with his light eyes stopped every train of thought I had. It made me forgot the welcome I had practiced in my head on the walk to the door.
It was my father's voice behind me that reminded me of where the hell I even was.
"Oh wow!" My father exclaimed. His hand came down on my shoulder with a familiar beat, like he usually did when he introduced me to people. It was part of the reason I couldn't stand my father, he cared way too much about our appearance.
Like a family couldn't fall apart after losing the one thing holding all the pieces together.
The smile Atlas gave him was the only reason I still let dinner continue, because his first reaction to my dad was the final piece in determining whether we were actually doing this.
It was a smile so genuine, it took me back completely.
In fact, Atlas was proving just how terrible this idea was to begin with, just by keeping that genuine smile on his lips from across the dinner table.
Distance that felt so close yet so unbelievably far. I hadn't touched him at all yet because my father was quick to sweep him in for a hug, and Atlas already looked like he was doing his best to adjust to how awkward this was.
I also just couldn't trust myself.
"The stories Lia told me about, were beyond anything I could've comprehended. Sometimes I look back on those memories, and wonder why I didn't take the time to expand on some of her wild theories. I just found her notes on the excavation of that pure jade piece you two documented in Mongolia, and for how fascinated I am now, I feel like I missed the party." My father spoke.
We hadn't even gotten dinner on the table, and my father was already getting heavy. I had never heard him explain my parents relationship quite like this, and yet Atlas's reaction remained unchanged. What he said next possibly changed the entire light I saw my father in.
"I find that hard to believe." Atlas chuckled lightly more to himself than my dad. He had this charisma to him that forced you to maintain eye contact, even if he couldn't with you. I saw my father focus on him, much like I did whenever Atlas spoke. "There was not a trip. Not a show. Not a ceremony. Hell, not even a weekend where Lia didn't praise all that you did for her. Even something as small as packing her worn out house slippers so she felt a bit at home with whichever trip we took."
The calmness to Atlas never left, but you felt so much more from his eyes that could never truly meet yours.
"For a women who was so utterly self sufficient, I understand the mixed emotions, but I think you both failed to realize how much she needed you two. How much she leant on you both to fill a piece of her that felt vacant, and just how much you gave her. Hell, she had me feening for a love I didn't think existed before she did. You did just fine, Doug."
That entire revelation hit me in the face like a wrench.
The look my father had plastered on his, made my stone cold heart feel things that actually resembled a parent and child bond. I genuinely felt good that he felt good.
It was like something clicked in me. The part of myself that not only understood how similar my father and I were, but also how similarly we were both processing this grief. It made me question whether there were parts to our relationship I hated, because it felt too much like staring in the mirror.
My fathers eyes swelled up, though he did his best to keep an even voice. Though Atlas couldn't see that emotion, I just knew that he felt it. Unfortunately, my father was not the most graceful human, and in an effort to dab away his forming tears with his handkerchief, he ended up knocking his entire glass of wine over.
What a mess this family was.
The even more unfortunate part was Atlas's placement at the table, which was to my fathers right, while I sat on my fathers left, directly across from Atlas.
"Oh fuck- Shit, I'm so sorry." My Dad rushed out with profanities I was not used to hearing from him. That was the thing about Atlas, the way my father reacted to him was the most uncut experience I've ever seen.
He asked him about things I didn't even know my mother was involved in, and the way Atlas was able to reassure him of his doubt was so perfect to the point where it honestly made me feel like I failed my father during his moments of grieving. Or maybe where we failed each other.
Through all of this, Atlas was so unbelievably gentle. It was one of the first times I really understood how close his relationship was to my mum, hearing him speak about her with my dad.
Essentially, he reintroduced the love my mother sincerely had for my dad and I, and I was embarrassed I didn't know the full extent of that love in the first place. Like I knew she loved us, but damn, the stories she told Atlas about my father were incredibly sweet to hear about.
"Errol," My father continued, as he tried and failed to dab the droplets of red wine that were now scattered all over Atlas's once white shirt. "I think we still have some of your wardrobe packed up in your old room upstairs. Why don't you and Atlas go find something to change into? I'll make sure his shirt is dry cleaned and delivered by tomorrow."
The issue about this request, was that I had absolutely no issues taking it.
In fact, I almost fucking offered to before my father did.
And it wasn't out of the kindness of my good heart, absolutely not.
In fact, seeing this entire dinner play out before my very eyes, had never made me so desperately want alone time with anyone else before.
The immediate need to lean across this fucking table and kiss a man who was practically broadcasting his capacity and space for love, was clouding all my judgment at this point.
That was probably the best explanation for why I practically dragged him across my large family home, not even waiting for him to extend his walking cane before we got to my old room. Not to simply replace his shirt. Absolutely not. Taking it off, however...
I had so much more in mind when I shuffled Atlas inside the cold vacant space, and quickly locked the bedroom door behind us.
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