The Art Of Us

18 • We're Not Seventeen Anymore

Charles walked out of his bedroom, yawning loudly and still dressed in his pajamas. He noticed that FP was sitting at the dinner table, fully dressed, with a cup of coffee in his hand. He seemed to he stuck in his thoughts, because he hadn't heard Charles.

"Good morning. Have you been awake for long?" He said, catching his father's attention.

FP looked a little bewildered but smiled a little when he saw that it was only Charles. They hadn't gotten the chance to really talk, which was understandable considering all the crazy things that had happened.

"Hey... yeah for a few hours. I didn't want to wake your mother." He said, smiling slightly.

"Are you okay? Yesterday was pretty intense." He asked carefully, as if he was afraid FP would break if he was more direct with his question.

Charles sat down on one of the chairs and tried to catch his father's eyes. He wasn't even sure how someone could feel after finding out their spouse was out to murder them.

"Every single day since I've returned to Riverdale has been intense. Same old, I'll say." FP chuckled a little. This town had always been insane, and he didn't see that changing.

"Because of everything we haven't really gotten a chance to talk, have we?" FP questioned, suddenly feeling guilty of not approaching him sooner.

"I didn't want to push you. I can imagine that it's a lot for you too." Charles said, blushing a little. Now he had his father in his life, he didn't want to do anything to upset him or scare him away.

"How are you feeling, Charles?" He asked, hoping to get an honest answer.

Charles took a moment to look at FP, trying to find the words of what when through his head. He took a deep breath, before trying to explain him what he felt as best as he could.

"I wish it felt completely natural, but it's hard. I always believed that once I'd found my Dad, we would look at each other and have this amazing bond as if we were never apart. But I made that up in my mind and now I don't know what to do." He confessed, a little ashamed.

It was something he had thought about for years, but even after reading FP's work since he was six, he couldn't help but realize that a bond didn't magically appear. They had to work for that. FP nodded slightly. He understood perfectly well what he meant.

"Even when we have a lot to catch up on, I want you to know how thankful I am that you're my son. If there was something I ever dreamed of, then it was having kids. I might have missed sixteen years, but I'm not missing another day." FP promised him sweetly.

"You won't? You want for me to be your son?" Charles said hopeful, his eyes twinkling.

He knew from the start that there could be a chance of FP not wanting to be involved, that maybe it was too much for him to handle. He was afraid that after sixteen years it was a lost cause, but when he saw his eyes he knew that FP was going to stick around.

"Of course I do. From the start it was obvious that you are a wonderful boy. I'm the luckiest man on earth that you're mine. Still can't believe something so good came from me." FP smiled brightly, truly proud if the boy he could call his son. Charles smiled back, being too speechless to even thank him.

"Can I ask you why you left to go to New York? Why did you abandon Riverdale?" He questioned, hoping to finally get some answers to why things were they way they were.

FP sighed a little, knowing that he couldn't run away from the truth. Charles deserved to know.

"You have to understand that I was madly in love with your mother... I thought there was something going on between her and Fred and I got scared. I thought I lost her and I couldn't bear that thought." He confessed, almost feeling that same sadness of all these years ago taking over him.