Hold On To Love || Kirk Hammett

Part 18- Savage

 Kirk's POV

My heart was thumping in my ears. Everything was set. All I had to do was muster up the courage to ask her.

My family had caught wind of Savannah, thanks to MTV, and of course, Lars' big mouth had to be credited. I almost had to punch him to get him to shut up. God knows what would have happened if my mother found out I was married, for visa's no less.

I was bombarded with a myriad of questions, and before I knew it, Savannah and I were invited for Thanksgiving dinner.

But now, I was tasked with the most nerve wrecking question of them all, asking Savannah do have dinner with them.

I loved Savannah, but I didn't think she was ready for that just  yet. Especially after we had just gotten back together not even a month in. Though, I had kept a lot of my relationship with her away from my mom, I doubted I could keep my mom away from her anymore.

I love that woman but goddamn.

I had backup planned nonetheless. A beautiful dress laced with diamonds and sequins, just in case things went south. I knew Savannah wouldn't be able to resist it.

I stood by the doorway, gathering my balls together, before I charged head on.

And all of that melted away the second I saw her. Cropped Metallica shirt, short skirt, and anklets around her leg.

I'm worse than a woman confronted by a shirtless Tom Cruise.

"Savannah," I smiled, "How are you?"

She laughed, "I'm good and you, sir?"

Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.

"Great," I said, clearing my throat, "Actually I wanted to ask you something."

She nodded her head. I let out a heavy breath before I continued. This was it.

"Well, it's thanksgiving, so my mom invited us over, so yeah, if you want to go of course," I added, hopefully to relieve the pressure.

She stood there, her back against the counter, and plopped a jelly baby in her mouth as I dreaded her reply. It was only a matter of 5 seconds, but the silence was gnawing at the very frame of my soul.

"What the hell is thanksgiving?" She replied.

My legs were glued to the floor as if a ten-ton-ball-and-chain were weighing me down.

I anticipated anger. I anticipated fear. I anticipated panic.

I thought she'd be absolutely shocked about the fact that she was meeting my parents, my childhood, but it was as almost like the idea hadn't even dawned upon her.

But this? Oh hell no.

"You-you don't know what thanksgiving is?" I asked her, my ego greatly shook.

She shrugged, almost smiling, "I mean, isn't it like an American version of Boxing Day?"

This time I was confused, "Boxing Day?" I punched my fists in the air, "Like boxing?"

She rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that I couldn't catch.

"Well no, it's like a holiday thing, you know? And we basically cook a bunch of food, and you have it with your family." I explained.

She cocked her head to the side and shot the most judgmental look my way, "So like a braai. Y'all have a holiday, just to have a braai day?"

My face contorted with confusion, "A what?"

"Look, I'd love to meet your parents," she clarified, "But a national braai day? You Americans are so cute."