Imagining Us

Ch.54- Porte

Porte knocked on the door to his father's study. If he didn't have a good reason for being here, he wouldn't dare step foot into this room. He hated asking his father for anything. Couldn't stand to see how he looked at him.

As if he was the one that shouldn't have been there. Like what had happened was deliberate.

"Enter."

He pushed the heavy wooden door inwards and entered. It had been a while since he'd been inside his father's office–not much had changed. He gritted his teeth–for a second, for a slight second he could see it. He could remember being in here when he was younger. Luke playing with toys, him coloring, his mother leaning against his father as his head was tucked into her neck. Her twinkling laughter added light and life to the room.

The room that he now stood in was cold and dead.

Just like her.

Porte fought the urge to shudder.

His father hadn't looked up yet, but Porte already knew what he would see in his eyes, but he could withstand it for her.

He looked up and Porte didn't miss the slight widening of eyes then schooling of his features back into a stern expression.

It was almost like looking into a mirror–not only the features, but the weariness that grief had brought upon them.

"Søn," Mathias acknowledged then leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepling. "Hvad drejer det sig om?"

What's this about?

It stung slightly that they couldn't function normally enough for his father to think that he was just stopping by to check on him. Porte supposed that it was strange that he was at home much more in his father's office.

"Jeg har en forespørgsel," Porte replied.

I have a request.

His father's brow raised. He'd always tried his best not to ask for anything–he'd done enough to this family already.

Porte remembered the last time and the last favor that he'd asked in this same office–it had come with a cost, with financial ties that were still beholden to him. No doubt this one would have a cost as well.

His father's  eyes narrowed. "Tell me," he said in English.

"I need you to speak to someone," he started. Porte knew that he was about to ask a lot of his father. This history ran deep and long. There was a possibility that he would say no, but he knew that his father could wield a measure of influence.

"Dr. Iskakov...Mikhail."

His father's lips thinned and his nostrils flared slightly. Porte knew that he was practicing restraint. "Misha...What would you possibly want with him?" The curiosity from before had left his voice. Now, it was flat and extremely careful as he spoke.

"You know how he can be...especially with students. I'm not asking him to accept, but I need him to at least meet with Esi and hear her proposal. I'm not an expert on her major, but if he would just hear her out, he would see that she has such passion and brilliance for it."

An emotion flickered through his father's eyes, and Porte saw when they flickered towards a photograph on his desk. He couldn't see the picture from where he sat, but it could've only been of one person.

His father said nothing as he watched him. Porte saw the questions in his eyes and knew enough to know that he was thinking about it from the slight twitching of his mouth.

"You look well."

That was not what Porte had expected to hear, and he did a mental double take at the genuineness of his father's words.