Methis' POV
I had no idea how my life had somehow become even more complicated than when I lived around literal werewolves with a mysterious prophecy over my head.
But somehow, it had, and I was already sick and tired of it. I hadn't spoken to Xander since the fight, I had decided it was better if we stayed out of each other's path for a while, to allow things to cool down to manageable levels. But now, as I stood on the bus, making my way to my apartment, I started wondering if it was the best option, cutting him out at this moment.
I got home and walked up the stairs keeping my face down, not wanting to engage in any kind of small talk or exchange of pleasantries at this moment, I was just exhausted.
"Miss Delis?!" A voice called out.
Fuck, who the hell was it now. I ignored the person, walking as briskly as I could up to my door and wishing I had taken the elevator when I heard the person's footsteps jogging up to me.
"Miss Delis? Wait!" The voice was whiny and insistent. Exactly what I didn't want right now. I whipped around, anger rising from deep within me. "Can't you all leave me alone? Can't I have even the littlest peace around here? What the hell is wrong with you?!"
The lady stopped, looking up at me, her face pink with shock and a little embarrassment while I fumed at her. She was younger than me, maybe in her late teens and early twenties, pretty with blond hair and hazel eyes, her fair skin a shade of pink.
"Oh I didn't mean to," she started, holding out her hand, "You just dropped your purse as you got down from the bus, I wanted to return it. "
"Oh... " I said, it was my turn to blush now as I took the purse from her. It was indeed mine, I hadn't even realized I had lost it. "I am so sorry... "
"Kate." She said, "I just moved in right across the hall."
I shook the hand she held out, "I am Methis, I am so sorry, it's been a very, very bad week."
She shrugged, smiling and showing off her dimpled cheeks, "It's okay, we have all been there. See you around yeah?"
"Of course," I replied forcing a smile and watching her walk away.
I felt like shit.
I was tired, beyond exhausted, more so than I had ever been in my life. The constant pressure from Jamal to come back home, the confusion of my feelings for Xander and my best friend, the overwhelming workload from school, everything was piling up on me, threatening to crush me under its weight.
I had been trying to keep it all together, to put on a brave face for everyone, but I couldn't do it anymore. I needed to break down, to let it all out, to let someone know just how much I was hurting. And so, I packed a few stuff, locked the room and walked out of my building, taking the first bus I could find home.
It was a couple of hours drive away from my apartment, and I had to take a taxi to my father's house.
The familiar sight of my childhood home should have brought me comfort, but it didn't. Instead, it felt like a weight on my chest, a reminder of all the things I had left behind. I walked straight up the driveway and walked inside, the silence of the house pressing in on me.
I felt exhausted as I entered my father’s house. It had been a long and stressful day, and I needed some comfort and peace. I hugged him tightly and buried my face in his chest. He stroked my hair and whispered soothing words.
I found my father in his study, sitting at his desk with his usual stoic expression. I took a deep breath and walked in, closing the door behind me.
"Dad," I said, my voice trembling.
He looked up from his work, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Methis?" he said, his voice laced with concern. "What are you doing here?"
I stood there for a moment, gathering my courage. Then, I let it all out. I told him everything, about Alex, about Liam, about school, about how I felt like I was drowning in a sea of problems.
As I spoke, my voice grew louder, my emotions spilling out like a dam breaking. Tears streamed down my face, but I didn't care. I needed to let it all out, to let someone know just how much I was hurting.
When I finally finished, I collapsed into a chair, my body shaking with sobs. My father didn't say anything for a moment. Then, he stood up and walked over to me, pulling me into a warm embrace.
"I'm so sorry, Methis," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea you were going through so much."
I buried my face in his chest, letting his familiar scent comfort me. He held me close, his arms wrapped around me like a protective shield.
"I'm here for you," he said, his voice soft and reassuring. "No matter what."
I nodded, tears still streaming down my face. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe, like I was finally home.
“Tell me what’s wrong, my darling,” he said, leading me to the couch.
I poured out everything that had been happening in my life. The pressure of my job, the betrayal of my best friend, the confusion of my feelings. I cried and ranted and vented, and he listened patiently and empathetically. He didn’t judge me or interrupt me or offer unsolicited advice. He just let me express myself and gave me his unconditional support.
He handed me a tissue and a cup of tea. He smiled gently and said, “You know, you’re not alone in this. You have me, and you have other people who care about you. You’re a strong and smart and beautiful woman, and you can overcome any challenge. I’m so proud of you, Methis.”
I felt a surge of gratitude and love for him. He was the best father anyone could ask for. He always understood me and accepted me for who I was. He was my rock and my hero.
“Thank you, Dad,” I said, squeezing his hand. “You’re the best.”