Love Is Ǝvil

5 How Proud I Am That I Got Her

He stared into the fridge with disgust. His nose wrinkled up on the impulse and, finally, he exhaled audibly as he shut the door again. There was nothing here he wanted to eat. Well, he didn't want to eat at all but of course you had to at some point. If you found something you could bring down your pipe, that was.

He sat back at the kitchen table. A notepad lay open and had some notes scribbled on its page. He was chewing on the end of his pen, a bad habit of his. The words on the page didn't make much sense to him. Sure, he had written them down there but that didn't mean shit. It wasn't a rhyme, he was trying to figure out, that would've been so much easier. No, he was trying to figure out something very different, almost the opposite. At least, his therapist wanted him to figure it out. He knew he should, but he couldn't bring the words into focus, much less his thoughts.

His honest thoughts, she had pressed him.

He grumbled frustrated und ran his hand over his short hair. He should just ditch her and finde some other therapist. Or maybe just ditch the whole therapy thing altogether. He had been sober for more than two years now and even though he was back to work and back on stage, he didn't feel tempted, not for alcohol or weed and pills didn't enter his mind like that anymore. He still rapped about them, of course. What else was he gonna write about? But he was good. His addiction needed no therapy no more.

He had other problems, though. Obviously! He'd had a melt down in his therapist's office, for fuck's sake. He had cried himself to sleep the other night, not generally a sign of a healthy mind.

Her words still spun in his head. How did she know all this shit? He thought, he was pretty good at hiding it. It didn't take much effort anymore, he had a whole routine for this. The bad and public history of his relationship failures and the rather misogynistic lyrics of his songs actually helped. People generally didn't expect him to care for women, not in a fond or tender kind of way, so there was no need to pretend. They didn't even expect him to like the general idea of dating or relationships and he had no need to correct them. So how the fuck did she find out? Why had she brought that up in the first place? Way before he got into this whole motel situation, she had this crazy idea in her mind he might be gay. Why did she think that? Next time he saw her, he needed to ask. If it was so obvious, he needed to change something. Immediately.

He sighed deeply.

She was right, though. And he hated that. He also hated, that it was just as obviously a problem and he had to work through it. Couldn't he just forget about all this? No, fag, you love dick. Stop crying over it. Sometimes he hated his head.

His life shouldn't have so much hate in it. He shouldn't hate himself so much and he thought, he'd done better in the last couple of years. He wanted to do better! But some things never changed ...

"Dahad!", a high pitched whine pierced his ears and a hand waved in front of his face.

Marshall blinked a second and fixed his eyes on his daughter. Judging by her pouting she had stood there for a while already, too long a while for her. "What up, Hai-Hai?" A quick movement of his hands flipped the notepad over.

"Lainy doesn't wanna help me study. The biology exam's tomorrow and I need someone to test me on it."

Marshall smiled with pride. His kids were really smart and they studied hard, he was so glad they didn't take after him with their school work. He tousled her hair a little. "Sure, I can do that. Sit down."

She straightened her hair again and gave him an annoyed look. But she sat down and gave him the book with the colorful highlighters and sticky notes all over the place. He still didn't know, how she could learn like this. As long as it worked for her.

"Pages 231 through 258", she told him.

"Aight", he mumbled and looked for said pages. "Let's have a look. What subject you're on anyway?" He found the pages and read the headline: Developmental biology: reproduction and ontogeny. Great, exactly what he needed right now, more sex talk.

"Don't panic, no human experiments involved", his daughter said reassuringly and smirked at the same time. She could be so cheeky, that she definitely took after him.

"Don't try me, you only turn red like a tomato again. There's still plenty we haven't talked about yet, you know. I got some experience with reproduction, my child."

She tilted her head. "That doesn't count. There's a time limit for these things and you, dear father, are way passed it. I had more dates this month than you had in the last couple of years."

He arched his eyebrows. "What?"

"You sure you don't revert back to a virgin after some time?" He saw her eyes twinkle with mischief. Oh, she so took after him sometimes and her big, innocent blue eyes did nothing to hide it.

He lowered the book again. "I go on dates, what do you think?" He was so stupid. Why did he fall for this? He had no reason to justify himself to his daughter and he sure as shit wasn't going to tell her about the dates he recently had had. "I just don't tell you girls, that's all. Or do I need your permission?"

"You do?", she asked surprised. "You never bring anyone home."

He shrugged. "Why would I?"

She tilted her head again and looked at him closely. "Don't you like any of them?" Not really a question and her tone was lurking, a little disbelieving. Maybe disapproving?

He shrugged again. "I'm not looking for something. It's better this way."

"You don't need to hold out because of us, you know that, right? We're big girls, we can deal with our dad having a girlfriend."

"Yeah, I know."

Hailie leaned forward in her chair, curiosity all over her face. "So, are you seeing someone? Is she nice? What does she do? Where did you guys meet? Does she live in the city? Does she have kids, too? When are you bringing her home?" Girls and gossip, the bane of humanity.

Marshall's phone beeped. Marshall's phone never beeped, he hated notifications, but now it did.

"Is that her?", Hailie asked and reached for his phone.

He was faster, luckily, and snatched his phone away from underneath her fingers. The display showed a notification from the dating app he used, there was a new message from Benriya: wanna cum tonite?

Marshall's dick twitched. Instantly he had the guy's taste in his mouth and images flashed before his eyes of him sucking that guy's dick. Why was he imagining that of all things? Because you'll love it. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"It is her", his daughter realized and had a big fat grin on her face. "You actually have a girlfriend, how cute is that."

He looked up. "What?", his voice was thin. He cleared his throat. "No, I ain't."

"Oh yes, you do. It's written all over you face, dad."

Let's hope not!

"Don't you have an exam to study for?", he asked stiffly and opened her book again.