His Little Flower (Felix and Flora)

Luckily, Lydia herself asked me to clean up, and then left soon after. She lived nearby, but had to visit her sister. There wasn’t much to clean up, so I ended up doing everything very quickly. I was also hungry, now. I should have brought lunch. I wanted to go home quickly and whip up something delicious and simple. A sandwich would do.

But before that, I had to speak to Felix. I took a moment for myself in the kitchen. Drank some water, did a deep breathing exercise I had learned from my mom, earlier. I made a mind-map of how I wanted the conversation to go, and formed my speech in my head, then set off to find Felix.

Chances were that he was in his room, so I made my way up there. The door was locked from the inside, and I knocked quietly. He took a second to open up. For a second, I forgot to breathe. As he stood behind the door, I suddenly was very aware of the proximity between us.

He stepped back and turned his back toward me, walking toward his bed. “Do you need something, Ms. White?” This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“I-“ I began, and Felix turned around. He stared at me, his face blank.

“Felix,” My voice was a whisper. I looked up at him, searching his eyes for any emotion. There was none. My mouth suddenly felt very dry.

“Don’t you,” I gulped, “Don’t you remember me?”

“I’m not sure I understand.” His voice was flat. I hated that. Hated this.

“I’m sorry.” I told him earnestly. “Felix. I’m sorry.”

“Ms. White,” He cleared his throat, “I don’t know why you think you need to apologize to me.”

“You won’t even say my name.” I let out, my eyes narrowing at him. It wasn’t accusatory, only pained. “Do you hate me so much?”

“I have no reason to hate you, Ms. White.” He started walking toward his door, opening it, gesturing for me to leave. “I believe its past your working hours.”

I stayed put in my place, staring at him. He stared right back at me. He had refused to look at me before, but now he held my gaze firmly, daring me to challenge him.

I stomped past him, outside his bedroom, down the stairs and out of the house, running straight to my car. I sat inside, clutching the steering wheel. There was a lump in my throat, like I was about to cry. But I knew I wasn’t going to.

I hadn’t cried in years.

I drove home, stopping on the way to get some groceries. I would have to start on dinner as soon as I got home. It was almost five when I got back in. Dad would be home in

two hours. I had time for a shower, so I took a quick one, before I made myself a sandwich. I would make one for Dad when he came back. I ate while watching some television.

If I stayed long enough at this job, I could save up some money for community college. If I got some financial aid, I could make it work and get a degree, eventually. If I was smart, I would leave, given how Felix was acting. But I was desperate for money. And I was desperate for Felix. I didn’t even want him like that. I wasn’t a child. I knew he wouldn’t just fall back in love with me. He had a different life now. Probably a girlfriend. I just wanted him to acknowledge me. To forgive me. I wanted to explain things to him.

I had fallen asleep on the couch when Dad came back in.

“Hey,” I greeted him, when he came inside the house. Dad was always in and out of jobs. He never really discussed it with me, but last I remembered he was working at a garage. He always brought in money, and with my added income we managed to survive, but I didn’t really know how and where his money came from.

“Hey, how was the new job?” He asked casually, walking inside his room. I don’t think he cared, because he didn’t stay to even hear my answer.

“Good,” I still said, to no one.

I wanted to tell him about Felix. Even though things between him and I were…rocky, to say the least, he was still my father. I wanted the comfort, wanted to hug him. Wanted to hug anyone, really. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been held.

But I didn’t tell him. If he knew I was working at Felix’s house, he would make me quit. He had never said it, but I knew he didn’t want us to associate with our previous life anymore. He had made sure of that. Made sure we never went back, made sure no one found us. When Mom had died it had hit him really hard, and he had never been the same since. I think he severed all ties with everyone because it reminded him too much of Mom. I had been too young to question him. Too scared. Everything had been so abrupt, and after the two or three times he had hit me for asking questions, I had learnt my lesson.

Things were only good with him till I obeyed. And I was going to. It had worked all these years. It would work a bit longer, till I made enough to go to college and eventually move out. Until then, things weren’t even that bad. They could be way, way worse. I knew this, because at one point, they had been.