Baby steps "Who's that for?" Andrew James asked, as he entered the kitchen to find Cleo wrapping a present on the kitchen table.
"Isaac," she replied trying to keep her voice neutral. Daddy knew that they were dating because she didn’t feel right keeping something that big from him. It was clear he wasn’t really okay with it, but he also hadn’t tried to outright stop her. They hadn’t really talked about it a lot, but she was concerned that every time she mentioned her boyfriend's name there was the possibility it was going to uncork the bottle of a mighty row. Sometimes she thought daddy seemed like he was gearing up to try to Say Something About That, but then he never did.
"Hm," Andrew James did not really realise that he had developed this little verbal tick, but a small, unimpressed escape of breath had become his default reaction to the boy's name. "What did you get him?" he asked, hesitant about sticking his nose into this area of his daughter's life but more hesitant still at the thought of letting there be elements of her life that he didn't know about. He was still struggling to know how and what to ask about The Boyfriend. He wanted to know… But he didn’t want to know. He wanted to know she was safe with him, but he had found no way yet of asking that. Asking if she was in control of her powers or if she was sure about this just got huffiness in response. And the alarming feeling that, if she had nothing to hide on that front, she wouldn’t be so defensive…
Cleo hesitated too. In some ways, things with Isaac felt private. She wasn't sure she wanted her daddy scrutinising her relationship, especially not after how he'd behaved to Issac at the concert, and especially when he kept making that noise every time Isaac's name was mentioned. But they had never really been secretive with each other, and she knew it was going to seem suspicious if she wouldn't show him. She held out the package, which was still open on one side, revealing the box inside. She hadn’t been sure what to get him for Christmas, hence she was sending it now rather than having been ready at the end of term. Cleo wasn’t really great at gifts in general, and she wasn’t sure what was appropriate. Christmas catalogues all seemed to suggest that you should buy the males in your life socks, chocolate, or Quidditch-related gifts. If they were a boyfriend, you could have heart motifs on any of these. All of these seemed pretty dull, and the addition of hearts just made her feel like they were dull but also kind of nauseating. She’d found what she thought of as a better present in the divination supplies section of a school catalogue. It was a little globe, much like a snow globe, only instead of tiny shreds of whatever, when you shook it, it would mimic the most recent sunset. You were meant to be able to figure out certain portents from the clouds and colours if you were into that. Cleo had thrown away the leaflet full of nonsense that had come with it and made it clear in a note that she'd put in instead that she didn’t believe in that but had thought it was nice because of their sunset date, and that it could maybe cheer Isaac up on the occasions when he’d have to be studying instead of watching the real thing.
"Into divination, is he?" asked Andrew, frowning slightly, but more because this was odd than because it was suspect.
"No, just sunsets," Cleo answered, finding she was blushing slightly as she said it because it felt more personal than she had realised it would. "Would there be something wrong with it if he was?" she asked, slightly sharply, because Daddy had been frowning again and whilst she knew divination was a bunch of nonsense she also didn’t think it was worth picking on Isaac for, and she didn't really want her present choice critiqued.
"No. No, just… curious," Andrew replied, smoothing his face back into a neutral expression. Sunsets. Hm. Was Isaac the romantic type then, or just knew the kind of things girls liked? That came closer to the sort of thing he wanted to ask, but which he didn't dare do directly - how did Isaac behave towards her? Was he pressuring her? Or was pressure… unnecessary? Was Cleo instigating things with him? He still imagined his little girl whenever he thought of her, but every time she came home, he was surprised by how much she'd grown. Still, there were all kinds of things he didn't think she was ready for. When he thought of the events that had led to Cleo's existence, certain adjectives sprung to mind. Passionate was the least offensive. Wild and uncontrolled were more accurate. Adjectives that seemed fun, when applied to your own youth, took on new and terrifying meanings when applied to your teenage daughter. Was it in her nature to turn into her mother, or could she have a more level head on her shoulders? He could not ask though, and he didn't want to risk putting ideas in her head. “It’s a nice gift,” he tried.
“Thanks,” Cleo said, a little stiffly, expecting some form of ‘but’ to follow on the heels of that. But when it didn’t, she looked up and ventured a step further. “He’s a nice boy, Daddy.”
“Okay,” said Andrew James very slowly, crossing his arms across his chest. He looked about as skeptical as if he was being asked to consider the possibility of a cuddly dragon - however, he also looked like, for the sake of the person in front of him, he was willing to try. “I… I hope so.”
Having a boyfriend still felt a little strange to Cleo, but it was also rather nice. She still wasn’t sure if that was how it was supposed to feel. Jasmine seemed to think you should want true love and a handsome prince. Anna seemed to think that you should want to have fun and not take anything too seriously at their age. Cleo definitely didn’t have either of those things with Isaac. What she had was nice. As she had never particularly found either of her friends’ explanations either believable or appealing, she was starting to settle on the opinion that not having either of those things was not a bad thing. Maybe she needed to do things her own way, and maybe that was okay.
Her relationship with Isaac was, for the most part, characterised by a certain degree of hesitancy on her part. She liked for situations to remain calm and controlled. She liked to know what was going to happen. Hugs were something she was starting to feel attached to. The snuggly kind. It was nice to lean on someone, to know they were there and not going anywhere. The little kisses were nice too. The kind that landed on your nose or your forehead. Hello-goodbye kisses. Don’t-forget-I-like-you kisses. She wasn’t quite sure she was sold on the more passionate kind. She let Issac kiss her that way, because he seemed to like it, but it was like it sent her brain more than her body into overdrive, as she wondered where it was going, whether it was safe. She wasn’t sure whether it was this inability to turn down her own thoughts that made her not such a fan, or the act itself. The main thing she thought about making out was that it was kind of slobbery, but she wasn’t sure which thought had come first - had she concluded it wasn’t that nice because she couldn’t stop overthinking, or was she overthinking because her brain wanted something else to be occupied with? On the plus side, it seemed like overthinking was working to keep her veela powers in check. So long as she didn’t lose control of herself, then Isaac remained in control of himself. She had made him burble on occasion, but it was more when they were contentedly snuggling than getting physical. He would say something sweet, and then she would realise he’d lapsed into talking like a bad romance novel and she would have to click her fingers to snap him out of it. It was more endearing than threatening, though it still made her feel bad, and she wasn’t ever going to make him do it on purpose.
“He is,” she assured her daddy, finishing taping up the parcel. It was accompanied by a card which she was very glad was already sealed, thus removing any possibility that she would have to show it to her father. It had mistletoe on the front. Inside, along with the standard holiday greetings, it read ‘I’m glad you’re my boyfriend. Love and kisses, Cleo.’
“Right,” Andrew nodded. “Are you coming back to help with the shop after you drop those off?” he asked, feeling almost optimistic that his daughter wasn’t annoyed with him, for a change.
“Not today. You said I could go to Anna’s, remember?” Cleo reminded him, but he got a hug and a kiss on the cheek as she gathered her things.
(OOC - godmodding/summarising of the relationship approved by Isaac's author)