Daddy, please.

Unveiling

"Hey, Alex?" I asked shyly, watching as he turned his head away from the tv to give me his full, undivided attention.

"Yeah?" He asked curiously, scrunching up his eyebrows in an adorable way.

"How old are you?" I asked, wanting to get to know the person who had already helped me so much.

"Eighteen, why?" He asked, confused, and I smiled slightly at the way his nose crinkled when he was confused.

"No reason, I just wanna get to know you better if that's okay with you?" I trailed off near the end, my cheeks aflame with embarrassment. I shied away from the look he was giving me and sunk back further into the couch.

"Okay." He agreed easily and I looked back over at him to see a bright smile had replaced the confusion that had earlier clouded his features. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen," I blushed, "when's your birthday?"

"February 26th, when yours?"

"August 5th," I pouted slightly at the fact that he'd turn nineteen before I'd turn eighteen.

"What's your favourite band?" He asked, looking at me like he'd just asked the most important question ever. Which, he kinda had, because I love music.

"Twenty One Pilots," I grinned cheerfully. Their music has always been my escape. "Yours?" I turned the question on him and looked at him seriously.

"Three Days Grace." He said with a proud smile and he actually looked so adorable.

"Nice choice." I nodded in approval. "If this is too personal you don't have to answer, but why do you live alone? Like where are your parents?" I blushed, looking down at my hands as I awaited his response.

Regret instantly course through my body the moment I felt his body tense up under my legs. Oh god that was not the right question to ask.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. You don't have to answer that. I was just curious but you don't have to tell me." I rambled, fidgeting with my hands as the anxiety began to crawl up my throat. What if he hates me now? Shit I need to breathe but I can't. I'm having a panic attack. Mayday, mayday! Please send help. This idiot here messes up everything for herself.

"Hey, it's okay. Breathe. Haley, you need to breathe." Alex told me as he held my hand and looked at me, fear hidden behind the uncertainty veiled in his eyes.

Shit I can't breathe. This is how I'm gonna die, but I really don't want to die yet. Oh god please let me live.

Gradually, I began to panic less and less as Alex rubbed my knuckles soothingly and I took as deep of breaths as I could manage with the condition my ribs were currently in.

"Hally, it's okay. You're okay." He reassured me. I closed my eyes and breathed in slowly before reopening them and looking at him gratefully.

"Thank you." I whispered, not being able to talk any louder than I had.

"Don't thank me." He whispered back with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Too late," I teased, smiling back at him lightly as I realized he was still holding my hand. Not wanting to let go, I lowered our hands to my lap and hoped he'd keep his there.

He did.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you don't already know." He mumbled quietly, looking down at my small hand in his own, much larger hand.

"Why would I know?" I looked at him, utterly confused. "What would I know?"

"It was all over the news a few years ago." He said, his voice devoid of emotion. It was strange seeing him in such a state when I'd only ever seen him happy and full of life. "The reporters hounded me, even though I was only fourteen. They just wouldn't leave me alone. They were parasites. They wanted all the info I had to offer, even if it killed me inside."

I didn't say anything, I just squeezed his hand reassuringly as it dawned on me that he was talking about his parents.

"My mom was uh, she was deaf." He paused, looking over my face to see how I'd react. I assumed many people looked down on him, and her as well, because of her disability. When my face didn't change, he went on. "My parents had to go to the bank. I stayed home because my friend slept over. There was a bank robbery, and because my mom couldn't hear, she didn't know what was happening around her. She was oblivious. The guys thought she wasn't cooperating so they tried to shoot her. My dad got in the way of the bullet, but they both died." He whispered the last part, like he was scared to say it. Maybe it made it too real for him.

Instead of saying anything, I lightly pulled him down to me and rested his head on the pillow on my chest. I ran my fingers through his hair that was still as messy as it was this morning. I started humming the tune of one of my favourite songs, A Lovely Mess by Front Porch Steps, and I felt him gently clutch onto the fabric of his sweater which I was still wearing, like he needed the reassurance that I was there.

I can't even begin to imagine how hard it must've been for him. Looking at him, you'd never guess that he lost both of his parents at fourteen, during the time he needed them most. You'd never guess that he's as broken as me, if not more.

Halfway through my humming I switched to rubbing his back, knowing that always calmed me and lulled me to sleep as a kid, hoping it would have the same effect on Alex.

It did.

I reached towards the coffee table that was close to the couch, grabbing the remote and switching the tv off. I slowly let myself fall into my own dreams, once I knew for sure that Alex was asleep, and okay; for the moment.

"Oh shit!" I'm woken up by a weight being lifted off me and I instantly miss it. For some reason it made me feel okay. It was like an anchor that I needed to weigh me down and now it was gone and I was left floating in an endless abyss.

"Nooooo, come back!" I whined, reaching out for whatever was previously keeping me warm and safe. I grabbed onto a fabric of some sort and tugged, until the weight was back and I could sleep again.

"Am I hurting you?" A voice asked from right in front of me, which I recognized to be Alex's, and I slowly opened my eyes, meeting his hazel ones with my own.

"No," I mumbled, closing my eyes again and smiling dopily. These meds make me feel weird sometimes.

"Okay." He murmured, moving down to put his head back on the pillow to get comfy. I rested my hands on his back and lightly ran my fingers along it until I fell back into my own safe haven; my dreams.

"Hally, wake up. You've gotta eat something." I heard a gentle voice say as I felt something wet lightly trail along my cheek.

"Did you just lick me?" I asked calmly, keeping my eyes closed.

"Nah, I licked my finger and wiped into on you. I wouldn't lick you. You've got cooties." He teased childishly as I stuck my tongue out at him and slowly tried to sit myself up. He saw that the struggle really was real, so he put his hand behind my back and gently brought me upright.

"Thank you." I murmured, slipping on the slippers that I left at the foot of the couch for when I got up, so that the cold of the hardwood floors wouldn't get to my little piggies.

"I made soup, chicken noodle. So I hope you like chicken noodle soup." He chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as he led me in the direction of what I assumed was the kitchen.

"I love chicken noodle soup." I beamed excitedly. This manboy just keeps getting better and better. "You're warm and cuddly, and you make good soup? I think I'll keep you!" I joked, sitting down at the island where two bowls of steaming soup currently sat. "This smells amazing! Thank you." I said as I blew on my soup and took a bite. IT TASTED EVEN BETTER THAN IT SMELLED.

"You thank me way too much." He chucked lightly, slurping his soup.

"Because you've done so much for me." I told him honestly as I felt a Scarlett blush creep upon my cheeks.