I n d o м ι т a в l e

(23)

The GIF I don't even know. I just love Modern Family. #yas #modernfamily ✔

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"Fear cuts deeper than swords."

― George R.R. Martin

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{Chapter: 23}

Unedited ✖

{ A S P E N M O N T G O M E R Y }

"...Dad?"

Fredrick Montgomery looks as well kept as ever; his trimmed brown hair is gelled back, revealing his stern features and dark eyes, a replica of my own. His tall frame towers inches above my head, his wide shoulders covered in an expensive black Peacoat that ends a couple inches past his knees.

A habitual frown pulls at his lips, his eyes narrowing on my small figure as I clutch the door handle with a rigid grip. His chilly eyes sweep over my frame, assessing my cheep clothing with distaste as the gentle patter of rain stains the air with a salty outdoors smell.

His cold expression triggers a frigid reaction of my own, my lips tugging down in a unpleasant frown as I look at my father through narrowed slits, my face contorting into one of impassiveness. My mood drops like a brick from a tall building. I release the door from my painful grip and cross my arms across my chest, folding my sweater sleeves over my knuckles.

"What are you doing here?" I ask with a chilled tone, icy and unwelcoming.

My fathers frown deepens, the frown lines prominent against his pale skin as several drops of water fall from the tips of his hair.

"That's not how you welcome family, Aspen."

A bitter smirk tugs at my lips. "Family." I hum. "Last I checked, we weren't family."

I can see the familiar glint of anger reflecting form the within his dark orbs. His charcoal eyes sweep over my frame chillingly, anger seeping from his pores.

I prepare for the yelling match that's only moments away, but before any violent words leave his mouth, his gaze flickers over my shoulder and his face darkens several more shades.

I glare at him, throwing a look over my shoulder to see Nicholai staring at my father through cool, calculating eyes, his body folded casually against the wall behind me. I look back to my father, already expecting the rant I'm sure to attain as my fathers fists clench.

"So this is what you've been doing?" My father tries and fails not to sound as cold as a glacier, glaring aggressively over my shoulder before his eyes snap to mine. "I sent you here to heal, to find where your responsibility lies. And instead your here, frolicking around with some boy?"

My anger sparks at the his patronizing tone, barely concealed fury emanating off of him in wavelengths. I squeeze my fists until I nearly draw blood from my palms.

Nicholai doesn't seem to take the jab my father sent him very kindly, either, as I can feel his once lighthearted mood begin to deteriorate, as well.

"He isn't just some boy." I grit through my teeth, challenging my father to disagree. "What do you know about him, anyway? How did you even find me? Why are you here?" I begin questioning.