The Inceptive Flame⎪✓

❨05❩

♀︎

Looking over my cards, I have pulled out the emotionless front as I observe the table we are playing on. It's the mobile table next to my dad's hospital bed, and even though it's small, we are making it work in order to play some Poker for the first time in a while. Looking at my three kings and two jacks, I desperately try not to smirk at him. This is golden, he isn't hiding how proud he is of his hand, but he cannot possibly have anything as good as this.

"What is your next bet, dad?" I ask him with a cocked eyebrow.

His grey eyes scan my face from his side of the bed, "I want to raise, all-in."

I act surprised by this action, but place all my chips in the middle of the table when he does, "Count me in then. Call."

This time it is him who seems truly surprised, but his ego is too big for him to lose face so he quickly masks his reaction. Poker is very serious between the two of us, "Straight," My dad smirks, throwing his cards dramatically on the table. "Sucks to suck, doesn't it, Kota?"

I fail to hide my emotions as I watch how proud he seems, his cards show me the way you'd count from 6 to 10. He really has a straight which isn't too common, unfortunately for him, my hand is way better. 

"I wouldn't know, dad," I say as I throw my full house on the table, "Will you enlighten me though?"

He is quick to grab my cards and inspect them closely, trying to decipher if he really is seeing what he thinks he is, "How did you cheat and get away with it?"

"No cheating, just me being fucking amazing at Poker."

He laughs in joy and pushes my shoulder slightly, making me join in. These are the precious moments doctor Wilson asked me to have with my dad, we would have had them anyway, but the doctor's words made the situation more real. He is incurable and by now he is waiting for the cancer to eat him alive. 

My dad pushes the table away and scoots over to give me space, I lay down next to him as we watch television. The smell of hospital isn't as bad as my first days here, it's like you get used to it. I prefer the smell of my own house over this though. Looking at the clock I see it's 11AM, mom is coming here at 12 to arrange the will with my dad. I will be out of here before then. 

I should have been at school today, it's Thursday and we have a huge assignment in chem. But the entire week has been one big pain in my ass and I missed my dad, so I decided to change route on my way to school. This is the better way of spending my time anyway, this is exactly what I should be doing all day, every day. My dad has a rule though and he does not want me here more than three hours at a time, apparently it is a waste of good life to be in here with him. I highly disagree.

"How is mom doing, Kota?" He asks, the worrying tinge to his voice breaks my heart. He has a feeling that something is wrong, but mom won't tell him anything and I am not going to either. There is no reason to make him feel even worse for not being healthy and at home, telling him that mom and I are constantly fighting and that she has started drinking, it will only upset him.

"I thought we made a deal, dad," I start, "You worry about your health and I manage everything at home with mom, it's fine. As long as you are doing okay, we will be fine."

"I won't be doing okay forever, baby, please remember that."

"You will be fine, I am sure of it."

His saddened eyes hurt me, "You heard doctor Wilson, honey, you know how I only have months left and that is if I am luck-"

"Dad," I interrupt, "You are fine, everything is absolutely fine."

He turns off the television, looking at me, "Dakota, you have to face how things are turning out for me. I do not want my death to come as a shock to you, not when we have the opportunity of making it a slower process."

I wave him off, "It won't, I heard doctor Wilson's words."

"And yet you are still not facing the facts, you have to accept it."

Pursing my lips I look at the ceiling, avoiding his honest stare, "I refuse to treat you as if you are already gone, I refuse to let other's expectations of my reactions determine how I am treating you during your last months. You deserve more than me changing on you now, why is it that you want me to be upset during your last time here? I can't, dad. I simply won't."

He grabs my hand, "It is okay to be upset, it is okay to feel it, Kota. You need to feel what is happening, or else it's going to hit you when I am officially gone."

"Then let me deal with it then, you are here now and I want to enjoy it. I want to enjoy our moments together, remember them as a happy time even through everything."

His eyes are worried, hurt, and it tugs at my heart, it's not that I don't feel sad, I do, but I really do not want to waste the time with him on being upset. Before I realize what is happening, a traitorous tear streams down my heated cheek. Wiping it away aggressively, I leave the bed, "Mom will be coming soon and I don't want a lecture, so I will be going now," Giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, "I love you, dad. See you on Monday."

He calls an 'I love you, too' after me before I am out the door. It breaks my heart that he really wants me to be sad around him. I refuse to treat him as if he is already dead, he's not, not yet. It isn't even a certainty that he will die, it's just doctor Wilson filling our heads with shit he read in a medical book once. Doctors do not believe in medical miracles and I do, my dad will prove them wrong, he will survive this.