Rowan: Queen of Chav's

Sitting on the windowsill (Tweleve)

Rowan PoV

My Dad and Papa watched me like a bloody hawk after the incident with Megan, which honestly I actually don't blame them for, since I was M.I.A for a good 8 and a half fucking hours before I was found in Bushy park at 10 O'clock at night.

Also my Nan was in a lot of shit with my Dad for letting Megan in Dad and Papa's flat, since it wasn't her flat, (duh, no shit), and that I was M.I.A for 8 and a half hours because of her actions, I almost pitted her, almost being the operative word here as I didn't pity her because she created the mess she was in.

I sat in the living room, on the windowsill, a cuppa in my hand, at 3 O'clock in the morning, since my sleep had been shit for a while at that point in time.

I heard some clinking and clacking from the kitchen, I then realised that it was Dad making himself a Coffee, (because insomnia is a bitch), then he sat across from me on the windowsill.

"What's worrying you so much Bambina?"
"What makes you think that I'm worried Dad?"
"Oh I don't know Buba, maybe it's the fact that you're sitting on the windowsill this early in the morning would kinda give that away, that and I have done the exact same thing myself, so what's worrying you?"
"I feel bad"
"About what Sweetheart?"
"About the other day"
"(Sighs), I can't say that you were wrong in the way that you handled it, because there was a million and one ways you could've handled it worse, and honestly Babes, if I were in your shoes I'd would've actually punched somebody, so I'm actually very proud of you for not getting the fists out, even if you really wanted to, but next time just let me or Papa know that you're ok"

So I put my cup of tea down, as I was finished with it and I was about to get a little bit serious, take that as you will.

"The reason why I didn't answer anyone's texts or calls is because I didn't know how to explain what happened without exploding and me snapping at you or Papa, which wouldn't be fair to you guys as it's not your fault that your mother doesn't know what boundaries are"
"That explains a lot Bambina, ok so do you know what you do if this ever happens again?"
"No"
"Ok, so you go where you need to go, as you did this time, you then call either me or Papa and you just say that you can't explain what happened at that time but that you are ok and that you're at a random public place or something along those lines"
"Ok Dad"
"You gotta promise me that if something like this happens again that you will do that"
"I promise Dad"
"Good, I'm glad that we're both on the same page about this Buba"

So we both sat there with our thoughts for a while, as you do when you can't sleep, and it was quiet, I wouldn't say that it was peaceful or anything like that but you get it.

"Dad"
"Yes Baby"
"I'm really sorry about worrying you the other day, I was going to come back earlier but-"
"I know Sweetheart, I know, you're a good kid-"
"I'm really not a good kid though Dad"
"But you are"
"Well no because good kids don't worry their parents about where they are-"
"You made the best decision in a shitty situation and that does not mean that you're a bad kid"
"Ok maybe"
"Look if it makes you feel any better, I might've done something similar when I was your age-"
"What about me?"
"I brought you with me obviously kiddo"
"So what happened?"

Dad kissed my forehead and then continued the conversation.

"Well Sweetheart, you were 3 months old, and it was a Saturday because I wasn't in school that day, there was a knock on the front door and my Dad was there, demanding me to go to Cardiff with him, I didn't want to leave you with my Mum, which he wasn't happy about, and so we went to the teen parent group like normal and then I took you to visit your Uncle Rueben and Aunt Fran for a week"
"Did they know about what happened?"
"Yeah"

I did actually feel a bit better after we talked about stuff, (not a lot better but still), but I still didn't feel good enough to sleep, if that makes sense, (it probably doesn't but that's ok dude).

So eventually I just sat on my Dad's lap, with him brushing his fingers through my hair, because he figured that I wouldn't sleep otherwise, (though I'm not that subtle about anything so...).