Faggots father

Lucas POV

My father had summoned me this morning to his office and honestly apart from discussing park politics with him in public, I really hated being in close proximity to him.

I stood with my back straight, my eyes fixed on the floor, trying not to flinch as the old leather chair groaned under my father’s weight. His fingers drummed on the polished wood.

This was always a bad sign.

Finally, he spoke.

“The witch came by this morning.”

I froze, my heartbeat accelerating as I felt my stomach tighten into a knot.

“She told me that you’ve been taking potions. In an attempt to ‘suppress the bond.’

He stood up slowly, walked around the desk, and stopped a few inches from me.

“Are you going to tell me who it is?”

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling. I could lie, say any name. But would the outcome be different?

At the end of the day, my father would never accept a man. I was tired, too tired of the pressure pressing down on my ribs. The kind of pressure that never lets you slee