I'm Still Your Son {ON HOLD}

Two

"Hello, Nicholas." My Father greeted. "Aren't you a little too old to be using the term 'what's up'?"

"Dad, I'm only twenty-five." I laughed nervously. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I just wrapped up a meeting and thought I'd come to see you." He said, letting himself in.

"How thoughtful," I replied politely, struggling to keep my eyes from rolling into the back of my head.

"Where's your girlfriend?" He asked. "I thought she lived with you?"

"Aspen's meeting with some family for lunch." I lied.

"You didn't go with her?"

I shook my head. "It's work-related."

"She works with her family?"

"Some of them, yeah."

"Alright." He quickly changed the subject. "So, what are your plans for Christmas?"

I had to hand it to him, as disorganised as he sometimes was, the man didn't like to mess around.

"The same as every other year. I drive out and spend it with you, Mum, Elizabeth and Brendon."

"Are you planning on bringing Aspen with you?" He questioned.

"I don't know, Dad." I shrugged. "Aspen and I haven't really talked about Christmas. We have no idea what Xavier's work schedule is like."

My Dad quirked a brow, clearly confused.

"Aspen's dad." I clarified.

He nodded his head in understanding. I'd like to say my Dad and I had a close relationship, but in all honesty, it was mediocre at best. We got along for the most part but there had always been a few touch-and-go subjects between us that were never to be spoken of. At least not while he was within walking distance.

I watched as my Dad analyzed the walls of my apartment. Probably taking not of the fact that Aspen and I had no photos of the two of us on the walls. I was too paranoid about unexpected visits like this one, and Aspen didn't have the patience to spend hours arranging the photos and then hanging them.

The walls were instead strategically decorated with some of Aspen's favourite paintings. The ones he'd put the most time and effort into. He'd often move them around or switch an old favourite with a new one for a change of scenery but there were a few that I refused to let him take down. One I refused to even let him move. It was hung on the wall next to the hallway leading to the bedroom and Aspen's studio.

It was a painting he'd given me for our one-year anniversary. It was a large portrait of a wedding venue. It was a large room with exposed brick walls, one of the walls made entirely of paned glass. Warm yellow lights wrapped around the exposed and support beams, two long wooden tables stretched across the room with equally long benches running along each side of them. It was my favourite of all his paintings because it felt real. It didn't feel like I was looking at a painting but at a memory that just so happened to be captured in oil-based paints.

This was also where we'd first met. Danielle, one of my closest friends from high school, was marrying the only other person I had ever met who knew how to handle her, besides myself. Danielle had been a wildcard back in high school. My parents had never approved of our friendship but I was desperate to keep her. There were days when I felt like she was the only one who understood me more than anyone else. And meeting Kira had settled her, not enough to douse the fire in her but just enough so that it wasn't raging out of control.

"Did Aspen paint these?"

"Yeah."

He pointed to the one hanging on the wall next to the hallway. "That one as well?"

"Yeah, Aspen gave that to me for our one-year," I explained, smiling to myself. "That's where Danielle got married, where I met Aspen."

"Danielle? Married?" He exclaimed. "I never thought I'd see the day! How come this is the first I'm hearing of this?"

"I didn't think it was a good idea to tell you," I replied simply, picking up the half-full cup of water from the coffee table, ambling towards the sink.

"Why do you say that?" He questioned. "She's a good friend of yours. I know I never agreed with the friendship but she turned out alright. Is there something wrong with the man she married?"

I hesitated, gently sitting the cup in the sink. "That's the thing, Dad, she is a good friend of mine. One of my closest and I love her to death. I didn't know if I wanted to hear what you had to say when I told you that she was marrying a woman."

He was quiet for a moment. "She's gay." He stated.

"Yes."

"Well as long as you're not gay, I don't care."

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I couldn't stop the hot tears that fell as soon as the door closed behind my Dad. I knew he what he was going to say, expected it really, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. I sat down on the floor and pulled my knees towards me, not all the way but close enough that I could clasp my wrist in my hand, my arms wrapped loosely around my knees. I hung my head as I let the tears fall, barely audible sobs escaping my lips. I didn't hear Aspen's approaching footsteps or the light thud he made as he sat behind me. I did, however, feel him shuffle himself forward so that he held me between his legs, his hin arms wrapping around my chest as he softly squeezed me. I felt his lips rest lightly against my shoulder and the warmth his breath left on my shoulder.

"I don't want to talk about this tonight." I choked out, the taste of salty tears on my tongue. "Please don't make me talk about it."

"Shhh." Aspen soothed, gently rocking our bodies side to side. "It's alright, baby. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"Really?" I whispered, afraid of what might happen if I spoke any louder.

"We'll talk about this when you're ready." He promised.

"Okay."

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Hey guys, gals and fridges!

Here we are again! Officially starting another story! Just a reminder that this book will update every Wednesday unless stated otherwise!

Anyways, thank you so much for 38 reads and 6 votes! It means a fuck ton!

Thanks for wasting your time on me!

~Daxton🌈