written in scars || father lrh (au)

chåpter øñë

{AnnaSophia Robb is Leilani so just imagine her as a kid, or look at the picture it's kinda 50-50 accurate}

"Cmon, kid, up you get." I muttered monotonously, shuffling into the room.

"W-Who are you?" She visibly quivered.

"Nobody you've ever met before. But I'm here to take you to your new home." I sighed.

"You won't hurt me?"

I raised my eyebrows in surprise.
"No...?" I slid my hands out of my pockets. "Cmon, let's get outta this place. It's way too white." I shook my head, grimacing in disgust of the overly vibrant walls.

She giggled slightly. "I agree." She stood up, with the inkling of a smile, grabbing her small suitcase. I held the door open as she wheeled it out.

"So, who are you?" She tilted her head at me as we walked, as if curious.

"Enough questions, kid." She looked down in response to my comment.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude." She closed her eyes as if bracing to be hit as she stopped in her tracks. Stopping a few feet ahead of her, I turned to face her.

"What are you doing?" I spoke, placing my hands on my hips as I huffed with impatience. She opened her eyes slowly.

"Y-You.." She shook her head, as if silencing herself. She briskly walked to my side, and soon we were outside beside my car.

"Hey, Mister?" She spoke as I took the case from her and put it in the boot.
I sighed exasperatedly, "Yeah, kid?"

"Who am I?" I turned to face her again.

Her eyes were broken and tired, and she looked as if she'd lost all will. The lines that etched themselves beneath them grew heavier by the moment, and the longing gaze she possessed begs to be guided into truth.

"You really don't remember at all, do you?"
She shook her head as a reply, our matching eyes meeting.

"Your name is Leilani Rayn Hemmings. But I'll call you any nickname you prefer." I bit my lip, opening the car door for her and closing it as she shuffled in and put on her seatbelt. Atleast she's more of a sensible kid than I ever was.

I drove home with Leilani in the back. There was an awkward silence lingering over us. I pulled up at my house, and ushered her out, handing her the suitcase. Nonchalantly, I headed for my door as she followed. I locked the car and unlocked the front door.

"You can hang up your coat in that cupboard." I muttered monotonously, closing the door behind Leilani.

"I-I'm okay, th-thankyou." I sent her an intense stare. What was this kid playing at?

"Uh, okay, fine." I grumbled. "This way."

After slipping off my jacket, I walked into the kitchen, flipping on the heating as it was early January, and then proceeded to lead her upstairs to the spare bedroom. I was suddenly glad I had OCD. Even my prison cell was always neat and tidy; the guards found it hilarious.

"Eila. {eye-luh}" Leilani uttered.

"Hmm?" I turned my head to face her.

"Eila," She repeated, tilting up her head to give me close-eyed grin, "Could that be my nickname, please?"

I chuckled under my breath. "Sure thing, kid." I turned and walked forward to open the wardrobe. "I mean, Eila."

She smiled, and I left her new room and trudged downstairs without another word.

--

I walked into the living room after retreating into the kitchen for a few minutes, plopping down onto the sofa with a beer can in hand. It was then that I realised Leilani sat watching the flames dance beyond the mantelpiece, knees pulled lightly to her chest.

"Kid, what the hell are you doing up? It's past midnight." I frowned, placing the can to the table. She yelped, leaping up to face me.

"I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean any harm, I just couldn't sleep!" Her trembling figure's eyes leaped toward the can.

I shook my head.
"It's okay." I spoke gently. I stood. Eila staggered back a few steps.

"Kid, it's okay." I spoke, walking to her slowly. She was shaking, eyes wide. I kneeled down infront of her.
"What's wrong? Do you think I'm gonna hurt you or something?" I said, mind scattering my thoughts as I dreaded any answer to come. I had a feeling I already knew.