Daisy (lashton)

Chapter 6

Luke groaned as he rolled over, his eyes fluttering softly as he curled himself deeper into the depths of the soft comforter. He didn't remember much from the night before, but he sure did remember the way in which the curly-haired man with the nimble fingers had managed to sweet-talk Luke back to his place and into his bed.

His head pounded with the beginnings of the hangover he knew was sure to haunt him for the rest of the day as he pulled the thick blankets up and over his head, desperately hoping that the warmth from the cocoon of blankets would somehow mask out the thundering sound of the shower from what Luke assumed to be the attached bathroom.

Just a few more minutes of shut-eye, just a handful of minutes, and then Luke would gather up his clothes and sneak his way out of the stranger's house before he got out of the shower so that they wouldn't have to deal with any of the morning after banter. Luke had had enough one night stands to know that you always ditch before the awkward "good morning" exchange.

Just as Luke shut his eyes for a couple of minutes of much-needed rest, he felt a sharp tug on his curls. It was almost as if someone had yanked on his hair, and he sat up with a yelp of surprise, whipping around to see what was touching him.

Luke spun around on the bed, clutching the comforter against his chest as he came face to face with a small child- a little girl. The tiny toddler had light brown curls that stuck up in every direction from a night of tossing and turning, and bright hazel eyes that Luke swore to be the size of tea saucers. A worn-out teddy bear with one eye was clutched into the crook of her arm and one of her tiny sun-kissed thumbs was tucked firmly between her lips.

"Uhh," is all Luke could manage to say as he sat up in the bed, running one of his hands through his tousled hair as he stared into the child's unblinking eyes. He didn't know who looked more surprised at the moment: him or the kid. Why hadn't the stranger mentioned he had a goddamn kid the night before? There was no way in hell- drunk or not- that Luke would have gone home with the guy had he known there was a little thumb-sucking, germ-infested monster running around.

Luke cringed as he watched a string of spittle run down the front of her nightgown.

"Are you my mommy?" The little girl lisped around the slobbery thumb that still jutted out from her mouth. Luke visibly cringed.

"Do I look like a mommy to you, kid?"

The tiny girl giggled, pulling herself up onto the bed and Luke shifted away as much as he possibly could.

"I have a book about a little ducky trying to find his mommy and, and he asks all sorts of aminals if they're his mommy! My daddy says that mommies don't always have to look like mommies! Daddies can be mommies and mommies can be daddies!" Luke's eyes scrunched up as he looked back at the tiny girl who wore a shit-eating grin across her face, almost as if she had outsmarted him. The little twerp.

"How old are you anyway?" The little girl giggled again and took Luke's sarcastic question as an invitation to begin climbing closer towards him.

"I'm five and three quarters!" The little girl looked proud as she held up five fingers in front of Luke's nose, and he simply rolled his eyes at her childish answer. This was why Luke hated kids.

"So you're six?"

"No! I'm five and-"

"three quarters yeah yeah." He swore his eyes were going to get stuck in the back of his head from how much he was rolling them.

The little girl took her chance and climbed into Luke's lap. To say he was shocked was an understatement. He'd never even held his brothers' kids before, and here he was with a stranger's spawn sitting smack dab in his lap.