𝗘𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗟𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 [ 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 ] ❜

𝐹𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟

𝐼𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ - 𝑂𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 18𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝑌/𝑁 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒

Inspired by: Father ~ Demi Lovato

This is the first of the father and daughter one shots, each boy has their own. I'd like to reaffirm this is definitely not going to be romanticised in any way, it's strictly platonic and just about a bond between dad and daughter, well in this case, the lack of bond!

♡'･ᴗ･'♡♡'･ᴗ･'♡♡'･ᴗ･'♡♡'･ᴗ･'♡

Father, I'm gonna say thank you

Even if I don't understand

Oh, you left us alone

I guess that made me who I am

A living room, somewhere, 2008

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Y/N, happy birthday to you!" I couldn't help but smile a little as my family cheered enthusiastically around me, watching me blow out the cake candles with bright eyes. When my stepdad, Sam, took the cake from under me, I found myself sighing in relief.

I was finally 18. Finally an adult. I could finally leave here for good.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love my family, I really do. Deep down, I know they care a lot. But things just haven't been the same since he left, and that was 10 years ago.

He as in my dad, my biological dad, or as my best friend and I referred to him as, my sperm doner.

I was pretty young when it all happened, so most of it went over my head in the way that all things did when you were 8. All I could tell you was that one night we were sat at the kitchen table eating lasagna together and the next he'd disappeared and never returned. He never even said goodbye to mum, only me.

I should have sensed something was up, considering the man barely knew how to boil an egg, when he said he'd make dinner for us two while mum was working late instead of getting a takeaway. But I was young wasn't I? Foolish even, to believe dad did it because he loved me. Turns out it was his way of saying goodbye. I hadn't eaten a lasagna for 10 years.

The worst thing about it all was that I missed him, and not even just a little. Sometimes I'd wake up in the middle of the night, physically nauseous thinking about what we user to have, and then I'd lay there until morning, crying into my pillow, holding it close to me as if dad was really there, comforting me after a nightmare like he used to.

I hated myself for missing him. If mum ever found out I still cried myself to sleep thinking about her ex husband she'd probably hate me too, though I am pretty sure she already did, in a way.

It was easier for her though. She was able to remarry a year later, to the man I called my stepdad today. Once Sam was in her life, she literally forgot all about my birth dad. He just became a very distant memory, one that was inconsequential in her new life with Sam.

Of course I was happy that she had moved on, and I was grateful to have a father figure in my life, but then, there was always that part of me, that slightly sadistic and bitterly twisted part of me that wished she hadn't met Sam. That part of me wanted her to feel the same pain and grief that I had suffered for 10 years, to have the same desparate want and need to let him go, but simply not being allowed to. As his daughter, there was simply no way to move on. I was stuck, with the ghost of his presence forever, and I hated myself because of it.