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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 || 𝘚𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥
THE SILENCE OF ANGER WAS WHAT SCARED IMANI THE MOST. The stillness and faux calm in the air, like she was freed from the heart of the storm that sat right above her. It could be enough to fool the stupid, but Imani knew better. Her Father was the craftsman leading the narrative in situations like this.
Although the fear clung to every inch of her body, she still wouldn't say she regretted her decision. She wouldn't play into her Father's hand and help him prove whatever point he was trying to make. It was her pride, life, and fate in jeopardy. Because although he may not want to admit it, she was more like her Mother than he'd like to believe.
Pride was one thing. But once you start challenging what she was doing with her life, that was a whole other situation no one wanted to be on the receiving end of. Imani went about her life the way she pleased and made the decisions she made no matter if they led to positive or negative outcomes. In the end, they taught her something and that was something far more sacred than her fate or pride.
So, even though her Father held the reigns of the situation, she tested his patience. Wondering how far the man would go until he was the one relenting.
And she waited on the table, burning gaze unrelenting on her Father. She could've assumed it was for nothing, but the constant sighs and pauses in his movements proved as an inkling that it was working. Little by little she would whittle him down to a fuming state that would play into her hand.
Imani didn't want to manipulate or make him feel guilty for being angry–he had every right to be. But she wanted to see what he would say in the heat of the moment. What she could play off of to prove a worthy defence. And maybe, she wanted to hear exactly how he felt.
It took a while but eventually, the man turned away from the counter. He'd been prepping supper since he got back from making sure the people on the ship were safe, along with making sure the ship was secured enough to let the experts handle the issue. And in that time, neither he nor his daughter had dared to say a single word. Only the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board and music from the TV playing.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared at her indignantly. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
The girl faintly tilted her head, eyes furrowing as she shrugged. Just hold the bait in front of him and he would have no other choice but to take a chance.
