His Little Flower (Felix and Flora)

Hora POV

Laughter bubbled from the TV, an old episode of Friends playing out its predictable chaos. I had seen this one a million times or so. I was curled up on The couch, a mug of hot chocolate warming my hands, when the front door creaked open. A smile immediately stretched across my face. Felix was

back!

I jumped up, abandoning my drink in favor of throwing myself into his arms. The familiar scent of his expensive cologne and the leather of his jacket enveloped me, usually a source of immense comfort. But tonight, something felt….off.

“I missed you.” I mumbled against his chest. “You said you’d be home for dinner.”

it that was okay.

It was late at night, and I’d already eaten. I’d waited for very long, because he had said he would be with me for dinner. But

He stiffened slightly under my embrace, and as 1 pulled back to look at him, a jolt of icy fear shot through me. There was blood. A crimson stain blooming on the front of his white shirt, just above his heart.

“Felix” I shrieked, the blood draining from my face. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

His Funds, normally warm and steady, were cold and clammy as he gripped my shoulders. He hesitated, his jaw clenched tight, a storm brewing in his stormy blue eyes. Flora,” he began, his

voice rough, there’s something I need to tell you.”

The worry gnawed at me. Every beat of silence felt like a hammer blow to my chest. “Tell me what?” I pleaded, my voice trembling. “What happened? You’re hurt. Oh my God! How did this happen?

He looked like he was wrestling with a demon inside him, doubt and worry etched across his face. But then, with a steely glint in his eyes, he resolved himself. He ushered me back towards the couch, his touch firm but gentle.

“It’s about your father,” he said, his voice low and serious. The words hit me like a physical blow. What did he have to do with any of this?

I knew it! I knew I was right to be afraid of him. He had hurt Felix now,

“What about him?” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. Every instinct in me screamed for answers, but a part of me dreaded what I might hear.

Felix took a deep breath, his gaze locking with mine. “I found him,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

I nodded grimly. I thought so. “Where?”

“He was living in a motel a few towns over.”

His eyes flared. “Sure, yeah.”

“Was he the one who hurt you?”

He hesitated, “It’s not my blood, Flora.”

Oh. Realization dawned upon me.

I took a step back from him. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt him.”

“Baby…” he breathed, “I think…you should see him for yourself, first.”

“Take me to him.”

Felix nodded. “Yes. We’ll go tomorrow. Come, lets go to bed for now.”

“Take me right now, Felix.” My voice was dangerously quiet. Felix’s eyes widened at my tone. “Alright,” he agreed.

The damp, fetid air of the basement assaulted me the moment the heavy iron door creaked open. My stomach lurched, a primal sense of dread colling amund my heart. Felix, his face uncharacteristically grim, ushered me forward, his hand a tight grip on my shoulder.

13

“What is this place?” I whispered. I clutched Felix’s hand, steadying myself in the dark

“A…holding cell.”

As my eyes adjusted to the flickering torchlight, a gasp escaped my lips. There, huddled in a corner like a broken animal, sat my father. But this wasn The man I remembered the arrogant, self– absorbed figure who had abused me to. His face was bruised and bloodied, his clothes filthy and tom. His eyes, once filled with a callous indifference, were new clouded with fear and despair.

“Dad?” My voice was a mere whisper, a choked sound that seemed to hang heavy in the oppressive silence.

He flinched at the sound of my voice, his head snapping up. Recognition flickered across his battered face, followed by a wave of terror. away from here!” he moaked, his voice hourse.

Floral No! Get

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. This man, the man who had caused me so much pain, was now reduced to a whimpering mess. And a horrifying suspicion began to bloom in my chest.

I whipped around to face Felix, my voice laced with a dangerous edge. “What did you do to him?”

His jaw clenched, his gaze lickering between me and my broken father. “Flora, it’s not what it looks like,” he began, his voice strained.

“It looks like you beat him to a pulp?” I shouted, the anger rising like a tide within me. “He may be a terrible person, Felix, but no one deserves this!”

s hands in a placating gesture. “He had information I needed,” he tried to explain, but his words fell on deaf ears. “Flower, you need to….

Felix held up hi.

know things.”

“Information? Or revenge?” I spat, my voice thick with accusation. “You brought me here to see him… broken. To make me feel… what? Satisfied?”

The image of my mother, strong and defiant, flashed in my mind. She wouldn’t have wanted this. She wouldn’t have wanted me to stoop to my fathers level

to him this

“I asked you not to hurt him, Felix,” I hissed, Even I was surprising myself. I had never spoken to him this way.

Taking a shaky breath, I forced myself to focus. My father, however bad of a person he was, deserved some semblance of decency. If nothing else…he was my father. “Get him some water, I instructed Felix, my voice tight with controlled fury. And then we’re leaving”

Felix hesitated, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. But finally, with a curt nod, he moved outside. As he did, I sank down onto the cold stone floor in front of my father, the stench in the room overwhelming, Okay, so this was some kind of weird torture cell. The least they could do was clean it from

time to time.

“Dad? My voice was barely a whisper.

He flinched again, but this time, a flicker of something akin to shame crossed his features. “Flora,” he rasped, his voice raw. “L… I’m sorry.”

The apology hung heavy in the air, a hollow echo of years of neglect. Part of me wanted to lash out, to scream at him for everything he’d done. But the other part, the hurt child within, simply craved a shred of genuine remorse, a flicker of the father I never had.

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