Clarke's POV
I hike my leg out the window, grabbing onto the tree branch conveniently placed just out side. I make my way down the tree falling to the ground with a quiet oomph.
I look around to make sure no one sees me before running into the woods behind our house. I look up at the bright moon illuminating the dark forest, tiny stars accompanying the bright orb.
After.. dad, dropped me off I snuck back in avoiding unwanted questions and acted like I was there the whole time. Oliver was skeptical but let it go. I haven't told anyone about our meet up yet, I'm still trying to process it. He told me to take as long as I needed, and I am.
To be honest I'm really hurt. I can't believe mom would do that to me, I will be bringing it up soon, probably tomorrow. I go 'hang out with friends' everyday. In reality I'm sitting at a coffee shop catching up with my dad.
He's changed a lot, for the better. I can honestly say I'm glad he's back in my life.
Leaves crunch beneath my boots as I come across the place I was heading. I sit down and lean against a tree thinking about what had happened at this very spot.
This is where I saw Mason for the first time in years. I remember that night very vividly, when I said his name his body reacted. His eyes dilated, heart rate increased and his arms only clutched me tighter.
I look down at my hand when I feel something hit it, a tear. I didn't even realize I was crying. I miss him so much, his embrace, his warmth, his gorgeous golden eyes. The way he would hold he while I slept, unconsciously pulling me closer while mumbling incoherent thoughts. The way he would just sit and stare at me for no reason, and when I would ask about it he would just smile and say how beautiful he thought I was. I miss the way he would comfort me, how when I could feel an anxiety attack come he would immediately be there to calm me down and make sure I knew I was safe.
I miss everything about him, I just miss him.
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Buff arms wrap around my waist while I'm digging in my locker, I spin around to see a grinning Victor.
"Hey." I smile hugging him back. "How's little Clarke?" He takes my books from my arms while we walk down the hall.
"Good." I lie.
Dylan runs up from behind punching Victor in the shoulder. "Shit, man!" Victor holds the spot that was assaulted while Dylan gives him a strict look.
"No cursing in front of the little pumpkin." He scolds ruffling my hair.
"I'm sorry Clarke." Victor apologizes before glaring playfully at Dylan "don't punch me again Johnson." Dylan rolls his eyes making a talking motion with his hand. Victor punches his arm. "ouch!"
"See? Hurts doesn't it?" He chuckles.
I sigh walking ahead of their banter into the classroom. I'm just glad they're getting along now.
"Good morning miss Archer!"
Mr. Smith chirps. I nod shyly at him before taking my seat in the back. Tweedle dee and tweedle dumb aren't far behind me. Victor sits beside me while Dylan sits in front of us.
I look up to see Mr. Smiths eyes trained on me, he has a strange look on his face and I'm not sure what he's looking at. I tilt my head and he looks away.
Well that was strange.
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I decided I'm ready to confront my mother about dad. I asked him to come over early this morning so we could catch her before she goes to work. I know that may seem like a bad time but she isn't available any other time, like I've said before, workaholic.
It's 6:58 am, I sit on my window seat watching the freezing rain fall. I woke up early because I simply couldn't sleep. I hoped doing little things such as wear fuzzy socks, drink warm tea and wear my softest oversized sweater would calm my nerves but that's not happening so far. I see my fathers car pull up and park, he just sits inside. I walk downstairs and send him a text that I unlocked the door. After a few seconds the front door opens and he walks in.
I've been seeing him almost everyday for about a week and it's still a shock every time I see him.
I walk up and hug him as tight as I possibly can, he returns the gesture kissing the top of my head. I hear a faint yawn behind me causing me to spin around. I see Oliver rubbing his eyes, hair disheveled from sleeping. His eyes meet mine and he smiles, the smile immediately vanishes when he spots dad.
"Who the hell is this?" Oliver asked in shock and slight anger.
I hold my hands out in front of me "Please don't freak out I can expl-"
"Roger?" I look up to see my mother standing at the top of the stairs, eyes wide and mouth gaping.
Oliver looks back and forth between mom and dad with the most confused look on his face. "Who the hell is Roger?!" He yells.
"Oliver this is my.. dad." His eyes widen for a moment but eventually return to the glare he was holding before.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He takes a threatening step forward. I cower slightly but dad pulls me behind him. "I'm here to talk to my daughters mother." He growls out.
I step back from behind dad, I grab his hand to try to calm him down. "Mom, why didn't you tell me he wanted back in our life?" I asked trying to hide the crack in my voice.
"Oh honey," she walks down the stairs over to me placing her hand in my shoulder "I knew you wouldn't want him back in your life, after all, he was horrible to us."
I shrug her hand off "No mom, you didn't know anything. I actually want him back in my life. I know he may not have been father of the year then but he is certainly trying now, you may not have wanted him back in my life, but it's not your decision. It's mine. And you stole that from me." I'm in tears by the time I finish.
Dad hugs me, petting my hair. I'm suddenly jerked away from the soothing my dad was doing, into Oliver's chest. "Don't touch her." He snarls.
Dad takes a threatening step forward snarling back "she's my daughter, not yours." Oliver steps in front of me now standing chest to chest with dad, both glaring into each others eyes.
"Please don't." I whimper out trying to stop the fight that's about to start.
"It's okay sweetie." My mother tries hugging me.
This is too much. I can't take it.
I run out the front door not caring about my father calling me back, that I have no shoes on, not caring that it's raining out at only about 35 degrees.
I just run, run from my problems, run from my anxiety, run from my pain.
After a few minutes I fall to the ground crying into my hands. The cold rain hits my back in tiny pellets, my black hair looking even blacker being wet. My fuzzy socks soaked.
I feel a warm hand on my shoulder, looking up I see the worried eyes of Dominique.
"S-sir." He picks me up placing me in his car. "What are you doing?" I question once he's in the drivers seat.
"I'm getting you out of the rain." He states like it's the most obvious thing. "What happened?" He questions sounding worried.
"Nothing." I look out the side window. "We both know that's not true, when you feel comfortable, I'm here if you need someone to talk to." I mutter a small "thank you".
He pulls up to his house getting out, I do the same and he runs over to my side placing his hand on my back while we both run into the house.
He leads me upstairs without saying a word. "Here, they're too big but at least they're dry." He hands me a large -obviously- male shirt with a pair of, yet again huge sweatpants. I thank him and he leaves allowing me to change.
I tie up the pants as tight as I can so they'll stay up and walk out holding my sopping wet clothes. I walk down the hall trying to find wherever he went. I walk past what appears to be an office and see his muscular back.
I lightly knock on the door causing him to turn around. He smiles softly at me taking the clothes from my arms. "Please, take a seat. I'll be right back."
He walks out of the room I'm assuming to put my clothes in the dryer. I leisurely walk to his desk, running my fingertips over the surface. He seems to be a very powerful business man. Victor has talked before about his father being high up in his job, whatever it is. I mean it's obvious he's wealthy just by looking at his house.
I see a bottle of ink and a pen on his desk, I giggle quietly at the thought of a big man like him still using a calligraphy pen. I look to the left of it and see a stack of paper.
My heart rate picks up as I recognize that paper to be the exact kind every single love letter was written on.
I must be mistaken.
I feel hot breath running down my neck causing a shiver to run down my spine. Dominique's muscular body presses up against the back of mine pressing me into the desk.
"Did you figure it out my sweet?"
WHAT
GUYS IM SO SORRY IM LEAVING IT LIKE THIS FOR THE WEEKEND.
I hope non of you saw that coming, I know I didn't. What am I saying of course I did. Anyways don't forget to vote if you liked it and please comment weather or not you saw that coming.
Love you guys!
Jo🥀