Out of the Lamp

Chapter 7: Fathered

Alia

'Dad!'

My voice is squeaky high and I know I'm flushing from head to toe. I sound as guilty as I look.

But why should I be feeling like a criminal?

Because you wanted naughty things to happen

I scowl at my internal voice. It was influence of that demons lust!

Mmhmm, sure

Damn it.

Dad opens the door fully and smiles at me. His eyes crinkling in the corner. His chestnut brown hair is starting to streak with grey but his eyes never age. The same hazel colour as the day he was born.

'Hey kiddo, I thought I heard voices upstairs,' he looks around my empty room confusedly. 'On the phone? Or am I going mad?'

I laugh with him. The sound so very forced and fake. I wince at it. 'Something like that.' The heavy pressure in the atmosphere has lightened with Daemon's exit. But the palpable sense of raw fear of keeping deaths company lingers like a bad taste in my mouth. I'm sure dad will pick up on it.

'How was the big first day at uni?' He asks, walking in and pulling out my wheelie chair from my desk.

'Meh, not bad. Made a new friend from my first lecture.'

'So you got booked again?' He stops spinning around like a child on the chair, to look at me. A parental seriousness edging his eyes.

'Yeah, no big deal, just this obnoxious guy-'

'Guy?' My dad exclaims over me.

I nod, frowning at him. A protective glare settles over his face.

'No biggie, dad, just another notch on the genie belt of clients.' I try to shrug it off.

'Mm.' Dad hums. 'A testosterone filled, hormonal, adolescent boy.' He raises a brow aseptically. 'I've been there before honey, and let me warn you, it isn't pretty.'

I can't help but burst into a fit of giggles at this. It's kind of cute at how dad's trying to look out for me. 'I'm a big girl dad, I think I can handle it.'

At the mention of 'big girl' his face droops a bit. 'I know, you're all grown up.' He mumbles. Staring at his open palms, in thought.

This makes a twinge of sadness wash over me. 'Yeah, but I know where to find my knight in shining armour if I ever get stuck.' I say. He looks up at me with a quizzical expression. 'Although his fashion sense is questionable with those loafers and no socks-' I point at dad's footwear. 'Seriously, dad - yuck!'

He takes a moment to register it, before erupting into hearty laughter. Kicking off from the ground, dad wheels the chair over to me, and pulls me into a warm embrace. The familiar scent of everything that makes him my dad, envelopes me and I breathe it in.

'I'll be down in my study if you need me, dinners at eight.' He stands up and walks to the door. Looking over his shoulder he smiles a rather unusually sinister smile. 'And the next time Daemon harasses you in my house, I'm going to exorcise his damned demon arse with every cliché holy item in the book.'

My jaw hits the floor as dad walks off with a two finger salute at me.

~*~