Vegas: The Heat of The Moment

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I was just next to Porsche, my dad was sitting comfortably in front of us, and right next to him was a pale, barely smiling Pete. I wanted to curse myself loudly for listening to father and getting kitten to visit, but my lungs were filled with a sweet, irritating smell that only made me more nervous. Why did we meet in such a way? How did Porsche knew my father, and how did he decided to accept his invitation? I quietly hoped that our conversation today had solved the problems and allow him to understand the truth, then why was he here instead of refusing?

"What's going on here, Pa?" I repeated, looking at old man angrily. "What did you come up with again? And how do you know about Porsche?"

I was so tired. Tired and furious with what I learned today. I understood where Pete's constant doubts came from, but I thought we were strong enough to get through it unscathed. Maybe my hopes were in vain? Was what we built really meant to collapse through fear and the impossibility of full trust? I looked at Pete's slightly circled, still reddened eyes and became angry. Where did that cute smile go? The one which made his dimples come out, tempting me to kiss them? Where was the twinkle in his pupils that I could see every day, a twinkle that showed how full of life he was, how eager he was to spend every morning with me? Did I kill it in him? I was taking away his joy, making the fire inside only smoulder instead of exploding? Should I leave? To give up and do what everyone requires of me? Was I to ignore my heart, my feelings, my desires, my vision of the future? Maybe it was easier for all of us. Well, almost all of us.

I felt someone gently brush my hand and out of the corner of my eye I saw Porsche's little finger trying to get tangled with mine. I could sniff out his pheromones stress but also happiness, as if he finally felt acceptance from someone and I understood what my father had to tell him before we arrived. I looked up only for a moment, sticking it back into Pete, who lowered his sad eyes and, like me, saw the connection. It took maybe less than a second before I stepped back and knew I hadn't done it fast enough. However, I was numb by what was happening, so tired of each day and the approaching heat that my reactions became delayed.

"Well, I said, a family gathering. You didn't admit that you met your Omega, don't you think that as your father I should know this?"

I didn't turn away from Pete's sad look, a look that burned a hole in my heart. Do something, I begged inside, shout at us, throw a plate, show that you will not allow yourself to be treated like that. I beg you, Pete, don't give up.

"It doesn't matter, we'll soon be disconnected anyway," I muttered, again ignoring the man's touch.

I pushed the chair to the side with a bang, wanting to create enough space between us that would allow me to breathe more calmly, but my father shook his head, dissatisfied. He had no right to look at me that way, not when he himself had brought us all to such a situation.

"I think you're crazy! Vegas, enough of that, enough of playing your little, fake house. I invited Pete here because I wanted to show him the truth. Let him see you two, together, and tell me it shouldn't be like this?" here he turned to Pete, who, paler than before, looked at me, then once again at Pa.

I knew how hard he tried to make my father like him. From the first day of their meeting , he did everything to show his best side, but his efforts were always ignored, because that's who my father was. Selfish, thinking only of himself, seeing the world in only one way, bitter man. I loved him because he was my family and I hated him for it. 

"Stop," I growled, not wanting to force Pete to listen to this nonsense. "I've told you so many times that if my Omega comes along, I'll ruin our bond, when you finally start listening to me?"

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