Meet Me Under the Willow Tree

Chapter Three: Cassie

His presence ruined the warm, cozy feeling the house had used to be engulfed in. It wasn't even about the actual cold temperature. It was... him.

His energy.

Cold.

Terrifying.

I drew in a shaky breath. Judging by his stomping feet, I guessed that he wasn't very happy.

"Lucia!" His booming voice echoed through the house. My muscles tensed. Please, please don't let him be angry.

"Yes? How was work?"

"Is dinner ready!" He asks, ignoring her question. He doesn't really say it like a question. He says it in more... command format.

"Not quite yet, love. I've been, um, busy." My mom's voice echoed hollowly through the house. You can tell she's nervous. Her voice shakes. Be strong, Mom.

"Busy with what?" My father is very tall. He always has been. My grandpa is very tall, and my dad inherited it, I guess. He sort of towers over you when you're talking to him. It's definitely intimidating. He just kinda... looms. And here I am, made to feel helpless next to him. He is 6'4 and I am exactly a foot shorter than that. My mom isn't much taller than me. He has threatening dark eyes and dark hair. There's always, like, this angry little glint in his eye that doesn't go away. Now, the glint is shimmering under the warm lights that had made me feel so comforted and safe minutes before. You can think anywhere is safe, but it usually never is. Not when you have Diego Vina in your family. He looks seethingly angry. I'm assuming it'd been a bad day at work.

"Well, I... ran to the store-" My mother began.

"For what? We have groceries," My father growled, brow furrowed. Oh, jeez. I'd messed up. Why did I pick tonight to ask Maeve to sleep over?

"Um, some chips... and snacks. For Maeve and Cassie tonight."

"What do you mean, Maeve and Cassie? Nobody's coming into my house unless I say so." My mom stayed silent, not knowing what to say. I bit my lip.

"Cassiopeia!" My dad yelled. I grumbled under my breath about how annoying he was being.

"Coming," I mumbled.

Making my way downstairs I stopped in the kitchen, daring to glance at my dad. His expression was expected.

He reminded me, constantly, of a bomb. Always ticking and ticking until pushed too far. Then he exploded, causing a big fiery mess everywhere.

"What the hell is your mother talking about?" His voice lashes out like a whip. I don't meet his eyes.

The silence after his question was thick and heavy. I stared at the ground. My muscles started to shake and spasm. A girl was not supposed to be this scared of her father. I am not supposed to be so afraid of my father. Nothing scares me. Nobody scares me.

But here he was and here I was. My one fear, my one weakness.

My father.

"Me and Maeve were going to- well, um, we were hoping to have a sleepover, Dad-" My voice wavers, threatening to break.

"So you're saying you invited that girl to my house without my permission."

"Well, yeah, but I asked Mom..." I instantly regretted my words. I wished I could wind back time to just a second before and take my words back.

They might not sound like a big deal, but I knew what I was doing. I didn't want to throw my mom under the bus.

Unfortunately, though, I realized the consequences of my words too late.