"Little Girl" - lrh

13.5

It's 3 in morning and Alice is asleep in my bed and I'm wide awake staring at the ceiling trying to understand what in God's name is wrong with me. I've been trying to figure it out for 2 hours and I still didn't come up with anything. How can I hear myself say to myself I am in love with Alice? There's no way.

I look over at her and she appears so far away in this bed. There's a significant amount of room between us that I wish to fill. I don't like being that far away from her. I don't like not having her wrapped up in my arms. I don't like seeing her shiver from how cold she is.

I guess since she's sleeping, I'll be the one to fill the gap. I roll over, covering her up more with the blanket and wrap my arms around her. She's so small I could probably do it twice if my body didn't have bones. Her shivering stops immediately and there's a small sigh coming from her when she rests her cheek on my chest.

I don't want to let her go. I've been preparing myself for when she goes to college, and I'll be alone in this house since Jess died. I'm still not prepared, and I don't know what I'm going to do when she leaves. I know she's been accepted somewhere out of state, where she'll have to dorm and will only come home on breaks for maybe a few days or a couple weeks. I'm not ready for that. God, I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that. I don't want my little girl leaving me. It's coming up so soon and it makes me sick.

I hug her tighter, attempting to control the tears I feel coming from behind my clenched-shut eyelids. If she only knew how much it hurt seeing her with Calum and remembering that she'll be off to college. If only she knew how much I love her. How I truly, deeply love her. I'd cross every single ocean, river, and lake for her if she told me to. I'd run from here to California without stopping if she said I had to. No questions asked, I'd just start running.

She kicks the blanket off and her legs tangle in with mine. I can't help my wandering eyes as they slowly take in every inch of her little body. They stop and linger at her exposed hips. My shirt must've ridden up while she slept, and I see her underwear. I have seen almost every single pair of underwear she owns (considering she won't do laundry) and these pair are new. I didn't get them for her, and she never goes underwear shopping, I don't think by herself anyway.

I stare. I prop myself up on my elbow and peek over her to see what they look like on the back. They look like the front but there's a bow on the back and it's so cute it makes me turn red. Before I even know what I'm doing, I reach down and play with them with my fingertips, careful to be subtle so I don't wake her. They feel soft, I'm kind of jealous that girls get the soft underwear while we get boxers that feel like paper.

I glance down at her, to be sure she's still asleep, before gliding my fingertips along the smooth skin of her thigh. She shivers and I pull my hand away. God, what am I even doing? I'm touching my daughter as if she's my girlfriend. You don't do that unless you're some kind of sick, perverted freak.

"Daddy?" Her tired, hoarse voice makes me jump. She rubs her eye and yawns, cuddling into my side like a little kitten.

"Yes, baby?" I tuck her hair behind her ear and rub my thumb on her cheek. Her eyelids flutter before she looks up at me fully. Her green eyes sparkle a little from the light of the moon pouring in from the window.

"I felt something on my leg," she looks around, pulling her shirt back down over her thighs. I bite my lip. Part of me wants to ride it up again and admire her. Another small part of me wishes she'd put pants on and end this self-induced torture I'm going through.

"Must've been your imagination, baby," I whisper. I want to keep touching her skin, watching goosebumps form from the contact, and hear her little moans because of me.