written in scars || father lrh (au)

chåpter ñíñë

I watched curiously as Michael smiled down at a sleeping Leilani. She seemed at peace for once.

"She's definitely a Hemmings." He chuckled softly. I nodded, sucking in a breath. I took my hair in my fist, releasing it and rustling it slightly.

"Mike, I don't know what I'm doing." I frowned.

"What do you mean?" He mumbled, turning slightly to face me, bracing the girl in his lap.

"I don't know how to be a dad. I never had one." I spoke, letting my fear be evident in my eyes.

He sighed softly.

"Luke," he started, "I don't know either, okay? I guess you just.. Don't push her away, okay? Protect her, show her you care. Whatever you do, no matter what, always remind her that you do really want her; a kid like her? It's easy to feel unwanted."

I sighed. "I still can't believe Dahlia did this. This is why she left. Everything would've been so much better if she never did."

"I know, bud." He saw his screen light up from the table, leaning forward a little to check the contact. "Bro, I gotta go. Nia {Nay-uh}  ((ehehehehehehe)) needs to talk to me about something.  Says it's urgent." He smiled slightly at the mention of her name.

"Mate," I pointed a finger at him, "You tell her how you feel at some point, 'kay?" He nodded slowly. "I'll try."

We stood in unison, him being cautious as he lifted Leilani. He reached his arms out to hand her to me, and awkwardly, I took her near-on weightless and petite body in my arms. I looked down at her briefly and bit back a smile. My daughter.

"I'll let myself out." He muttered, sending me a nod and quietly closing the door behind him after grabbing his stuff and walking out of the living room. Pulling her form closer to my chest, I watched her face contort into frowns and grimaces as I climbed up the stairs to her room. Gently easing the door open, I entered her room, and looked around the walls. I decided that Leilani wouldn't be leaving for a long while. I wanted her to feel protected. Maybe we should decorate her room sometime.

I shuffled towards her bed and propped her legs on my knee as I pulled back the covers with my now-free hand. Resuming my previous stance, I bent my torso over to glide her down onto the bed. I felt my hands beneath her back hit the mattress, and slid them from beneath her.

As I went to lean back up, I noticed her tiny hands clinging to the material of my 'THE OFFSPRING' shirt. I stood there, unsure of what to do. I looked down at her face. She whimpered in her sleep, deep in her nightmarish trance already. Grabbing a cushion from the end of the bed, I threw it at the door to push it to a near close.

Scooping my arm beneath her, I crawled into the bed beside her and pulled the covers up to her collarbones, which reached to the top of my stomach. Lying down beside her, I pulled her closer. She visibly froze in her sleep. I bit my lip.

I wanted to. Do I? Do I not? Is it wrong? Would it really be? I mean, she's my daughter. There's nothing wrong with it, right? Oh lord, brain, quit it. Michael said don't push her away, that means no overthinking things.

And just like that, I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. I watched a smile curl onto her face.

"Goodnight, Eila." I whispered, smiling as she cuddled into me. And slowly, I dropped off into my own trance. Maybe this was how to be a dad. Maybe I just needed to open my walls.