Meet Aymie.

Father daughter time

"What the hell did you think you were doing?!"

I cringed at the harshness in my dad’s voice as I watched him pace relentlessly across the living room of our 3 story house.

Note the word house - not home.

"Dad I swea-"

"No Aymie, you always do this. You always say, 'oh it was an accident', or 'it got a little out of hand' or, or some other lousy excuse for your rebellious behaviour and I am honestly sick of it!" he roared causing me to flinch slightly.

"Making out with a boy?! Have the heavens cursed me? Has my daughter gone completely insane to make out with a random stranger on her FIRST FUCKING DAY OF SCHOOL?!"

Flinching at the anger in my dad’s voice I realised I needed to stand up for myself.

"Common dad, you know Dronesperg bullshits out of his mind, if anyone was getting 'too inappropriate' or 'NSFW' it was him!

Eying me like the 24 buckets of KFC he wanted to eat for breakfast! The amount of times he and his oversized head winked at me today was ridiculous! "I yelled, slowly but surely gaining confidence and volume.

My dad let out a huge sigh and plonked himself on the sofa rubbing his forehead back and forth.

I let out an exasperated sigh before sitting back down in my chair.

"You remind me of your mother you know that" my dad whispered as his face went blank.

I hated that woman with a passion.

"ew"

He laughed but continued anyway, "she was always the apple of any boy’s eye, witty, smart, beautiful, daring" he spoke about her with so much respect and admiration it pissed me off.

Rolling up his work shirt sleeves, he leant his tattoo covered forearms looking me directly in the eye.

"Aymie, you're insanely beautiful - like your mother was, I mean she still is - but the bitchiness kinda ruined it" we chuckled together.

"You've got your granddads personality, my amazing looks" he winked at me which I agreed to - if he wasn't my dad he'd be a dilf - " and your mothers daringness, which is bound to cause a problem"

"Daaaaaad. Common we're not having a moment right now. I get it, I get it you think I'm beautiful, you're still in love with that Bxtch, and you don’t want to see me get hurt, I know I know! haha okay?" I whined.

"Exactly Tia-Maria" he smirked winking at me in a fatherly manner again.

That nickname really got me, it was the drink that my dad adored and ordered from that bxtch under the title of my mother on a night out.

He said that the drink tasted "pure" and "extraordinary" and that’s what gave him the courage to talk to my mother.

Sweet?

Oh I know.

"One thing though" he asked laughing. 
"Mnkay........" I replied cautiously.

"What kind of fucking name is Dylanté?" he stifled out while laughing.

I sunk deeper and deeper into my chair - it’s gunna be a long night.

***********************

Knight's P.O.V

“Mom!” I yelled, chucking my bag on the floor and removing my jacket.

No reply – as usual.

You see, I’m no spoilt brat – don’t get me wrong, but I think everyone at least deserves the closure of either parents, or just one. It feels like I have none.