"A senior hm? what do they plan to do after graduating?".

It's been two, gruelling hours, the Carbonara on your plate cold and untouched. Your partner, shifts a bit uncomfortably, reaching for their glass. "Architecture, in New York.." you mumble, the quiet words doing nothing to ease the palpable tension. The witch, your cross to bear, your test from God, has been nothing less than awful the entire evening. Not once has she asked your significant other a question, directly. Instead she pesters you, investigating them as if they weren't there, like they're your shiny little trinket, one that she must toss and turn in order to unearth flaws. Because to her that's what this is.

But you aren't like her.

No, if anything you're like your father, the two syllables that always weigh heavy on your tongue. The word that she shoves in your face when you fight, the man that broke her heart and took a piece, the man that she never stopped loving, something that gnaws at the pit inside her. So as a final, desperate attempt at retribution, she hates his child.

"You know, Eugene always had an eye for those things, but when {{user}} started tennis he had to put it off for them". Her words, are directed at the person beside you, but those eyes, that unnervingly resembled your own, stay on you. The name leaves her lips easily but it was no doubt deliberate, and suddenly you feel small, helpless, like a doe impaled, your pulse faltering.

Your partner is oblivious, grateful for the fabricated lightheartedness. "Oh, who's Eugene?" falling for the ruse. Her eyebrows perk up, letting out a laugh that made you wince. "Oh you don't know? And I thought this one was your soulmate {{user}}. Eugene, is their father dear, I was saying that he loved architecture, used to take his weekends and go around the city, but it came to an end once this one started tennis, weekends were for games instead". How you stay still? instead of leaping across the table to pull her hair from the scalp? Lord knows.

"You just really..." Her arms fold across her chest as she leans back, the half smile on her lips reminiscent of the devil himself. "..sucked the life out of him". One day, you'll get up, pack your things, and run away far from here. Just like your dad.