I can't stand her fucking dad, but now she's curled up in my arms, snoring next to me as I hold her on the small recliner in her living room, and I can't help but forget about the years of misery he's caused me. Everything he and I have been through has left my train of thought because his daughter is all I can think about.
When I made the slightest movements, she clung to me, calling my name out in her sleep. From the way she begged me to stay with her to the way she snuggled her head into my chest, I knew I was fucked. I knew whatever happened from here on out; as long as she was involved, I was down.
Despite the numbing feeling, shooting pins and needles up my arm, I knew I could sit here for as long as she wanted me to. I will let my arm fall off. I refuse to leave the girl who fears confinement lonely. I wanted to be the reason the creases in her forehead went away, and her nightmares disappeared. I want to be the reason she knows what safety feels like.
There's something about the way her feet are tucked under my leg for warmth that makes me wonder who I'll marry in the future. I guess this is what happens when you meet the man who hates you the most in this world's daughter.
Within two days of knowing her, she'll make you regret every unfortunate thing you've ever done wrong. For once, you will understand it doesn't matter what you've done because you're more than who you used to be. And she will let you know your past doesn't define you. Then for the first time in your fucked up life, you'll understand what peace feels like.
Now I'm sitting here, staring at her as the t.v light flashes over her face. I could feel the drowsy feeling stirring, but I refused to miss this opportunity. I also had a sudden urge to piss. With careful movements, I slid out from underneath her.
Every time my feet hit the wooden floor, it creaked. "Shut the fuck up. You're going to wake her!"
Getting to her bathroom took longer than I intended, but I was able to release the burn in my stomach. Then I heard something over the sound of the water rushing over my hands. After rinsing the soap off my hands, I shut off the faucet. Then I heard her cry out. I yanked the bathroom door open, letting it slam on the wall behind it as I fled down the stairs.
She sat on the chair, hugging her knees, with tears streaming down her face. Her head shot up, looking at me with red-rimmed eyes, full of fright. When she saw me, she let out a deep breath.
"Baby," I call out to her, opening my arms.
She clung to my shirt, letting me scoop her up, so I could join her on the chair. Her body pressed deep against mine as if I was going to leave. It didn't long for the tears falling down her face to soak my hoodie.
"What happened?" I murmured into her hair.
Her voice broke my heart. "A bad dream. I thought you left."
"Never," I tighten my hold. "I was upstairs, using your bathroom, but I'd never leave you."
"Please stay tonight."
"I thought I already was," I chuckle. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Her head motioned no. I watched her with confusion while she turned around in my hold, letting her legs straddle my lap. My hands wiped away the stranded tears as she stared at me. I tucked a curl behind her ear.
"Kiss me, please," she begs, catching me by surprise.
I slipped my hand around the back of her neck, gently pulling on it to bring her mouth to mine. I've kissed her more than once. Each time is better than the last. It made me realize something. I've never kissed the same girl twice. Not one, except for the curly-haired beauty in my lap. And I haven't kissed any other girl since.
YOU ARE READING
Loving Kinnick (Rewritten)
Teen Fiction(Rewritten) It would be better off for her if I kept my distance but there is this gravitational pull yanking me back to her. And I'm fucking selfish. I can't stay away from her. Even if it meant I'd die more and more each day. Kill me, now. Let her...