"So how has your training been going Adelaide?" My father's voice tore my gaze away from the plate in front of me, my hand moving to place my cutlery to one side. My eyes l shifted to the opposite side of the table, where my father sat with an expectant look carved onto his lineaments.
"Sorry?" I apologised, having not taken in a single word of what had been said to me.
"I asked how you're training has been going?" He repeated, forcing my eyes to flitter over to Luke, who stood observing the conversation from his position by the kitchen door. I shot him a mocking glare, to which he simply poked his tongue out while making a juvenile face. "Luke mentioned how well you'd gotten on with shooting."
"Shooting?" My mother exclaimed, her displeasure evident as her face creased up, a frown strewn across her cheeks. "You think that it's appropriate for her to be influenced by that kind of stuff?"
My father sighed, turning to face her. "Julie, it's not as if I want her to be around guns or any kind of violence for that matter, but knowing that she would be able to defend herself in certain situations comforts me," he argued in response. "Surely you can understand that?" My mother refused to give a reply, her eyes dropping back to her plate as my father addressed me once more. "So how've you been finding it?"
"Yeah, it's been good," I replied politely. "We're doing another session tonight."
"Ah yes, out in the back house," he recalled with the slight nod of his head.
"We have a back house?" I questioned, throwing him an inquisitive glance as I spoke.
"I don't suppose that you've been to that side of the sight. It's to the left side of the house," he explained, gesturing his hands toward the garden. "It's pretty much just a barn, all derelict now though."
"Oh."
"I didn't quite gather what you'd be doing though," he mused while picking at the food on his plate.
"Luke is literally just there," I said, motioning my hand toward the boy that had been the centre of our conversation, yet my father had been acting as if he wasn't even in the same room as us. "You could just ask him?"
"He knows what he's doing Adelaide," he replied. "I have no need to know." He then averted his attention back to the plate in front of him, my eyes flicking toward Luke, a smirk clad against his features as he locked his gaze with my own.
As my parent's divulged into another conversation, one that I had no interest in, a guard, who I had failed to name, approached Luke. They conversed with one another; a serious tone hanging around their conversation. I watched intently, Luke soon taking notice of this, letting his expression soften to send a smile my way before responding to his colleague.
"I should head back to work then," my father informed, smudging a napkin lightly over the corners of his mouth. Signalling to a few men on the other side of the room, he raised himself from his chair, bidding my mother a farewell before stalking out of the room.
"Do you need any help tidying up?" I offered, turning to direct my question toward my mother as she began collecting the plates.
"I'm good thank you, there isn't much washing up," she replied as she made her way to the other side of the kitchen, her back twisting toward me as she stood at the sink.
In the corner of my eye, I caught sight of two palms landing softly onto the table beside my own. I followed the stretch of tanned skin that trailed along a set of toned arms meeting in an arch to form a solid shoulder stance. My eyes eventually met Luke's beryl orbs as he leaned onto the timber surface.
