It was hard to communicate with him

when things got serious.

Screaming matches about your behaviour,

his behaviour,

about something that happened long

in the past or yesterday.

He would speak to you like you were

an adult and your mental space

didn't match up to that.

He knew you were fragile but his chaos

didn't keep that in mind.

"I'm fucking tired of this shit"

He ran a hand through his hair,

a tired look on his face because he came home

at three in the morning,

leaving you alone for two whole days

without so much as a warning and

without a good excuse.

"What do ya want me to do huh?

Fucking baby you all the time even when

you're being a bitch?"

"Daddy"

You choked out,

pushing his insults to the back of your mind.

"I haven't seen you in two days.

You didn't tell me that you wouldn't

be coming home.

You kissed me and said that you

would see me later"

"Yeah little girl"

He scoffed.

"Two days later"

"What?"

You breathed out.

"Daddy,

that isn't true.

What were you even doing?"

His intense blue eyes falling onto you,

an irritated sigh left his mouth as he stared

at you blankly.

"You were with girls,

Weren't you?"

You asked him quietly,

your little heart beating erratically

in your chest because you hated confrontation

or conflict of any kind,

especially with the person who was

supposed to make you feel safe.

Looking off to the side,

he didn't give you an answer

and you knew that it was true.

A part of you said that maybe

you could understand.

Taking care of you was like a full time

job sometimes,

maybe he wanted to fuck a women without

as much responsibility.

The other part said that you deserved more

but it wasn't like you were ever going

to do anything about it.

Tears brimming your eyes,

you left him sitting there at his desk,

shutting yourself into the bedroom and

climbing into your bed,

crying into your pillow softly.

When you woke up,

it was light outside,

opening your eyes to see him sitting there,

a cigarette in his mouth as he lit it,

his shirt unbuttoned and his hair starting

to lose its slick,

falling into his face slightly.

"You okay baby?"

He asked you lowly.

Staying silent,

you didn't want to talk to him,

the ache in your heart duller than it was

last night but still raw and alive.

Glancing at you with those intense blue eyes,

he reached out,

placing his hand on your thigh,

the rings around his fingers cold

against your skin.

"Hm?"

"I'm fine"

You replied barely above a whisper,

prying his hand from you and

sitting with your back against the headboard,

holding your knees to your chest.

"Are you doing anything today?"

"I don't feel like it"

He stubbed out the cigarette,

pulling his slacks up slightly to get to his laces,

taking his shoes off and leaving them

on the floor which was unlike him because

he was usually such a control freak,

laying on his side,

his eyes on you.

"Did daddy hurt you baby?"

"It doesn't matter"

You answered him quietly,

avoiding his eyes on you.

"It does fucking matter"

He pulled you closer to him by

your ankle,

a grin on his mouth as he leaned down

kissing your lips softly,

his hand squeezing at your waist,

deepening it,

touching the tip of your tongue with his

because it always made you laugh.

"Daddy!"

You giggled,

pulling away from him.

"Stop it"

"You wanna make milkshakes?"

He smirked.

"With cream?"

You looked at him suspiciously.

"And marshmallow pieces

with a cherry on top?"

"Anything ya want"

He grabbed at your tummy,

making you cry out in laughter

because you were ticklish,

the room falling silent.

"Who's my little baby hm?"

He knew the answer

but he still wanted to hear it.

"I'm your baby daddy"

You whispered against his lips.