《evangeline. °styles》e

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"you."

her quiet voice spoke, telling me that she was trying to impress me. fuck.

for what seemed like the millionth time i felt myself getting hard because of her, i tightened my grip around the steering wheel in a weak attempt at calming myself.

the image of me taking her over my knee and punishing her, overcame my mind and really didn't help my hard-on disappear.

but i already knew, she was my little sisters best friend, i couldn't cross that line. unless i wanted my sister to hate me, and unless i wanted evangeline to lose her only friend.

i was reminded of how five year old evangeline used to come running into my fourteen year old arms, with tears in her eyes and her blue bruised knees. i used to look after this girl like she was my daughter, and now i couldn't stop lusting for her to call me daddy.

what the hell have i become.

i shake my head and let out a sigh, whispering her name in order to rid myself of these dirty thoughts and continue driving down her street.

i hear the click of her seatbelt, when i pull up at her small brick house with her pink rose bushes and daisy's which i knew she grew herself, she loved gardening.

"buh bye harry" she sing-songs leaning over the centre console of my car, pressing a light kiss onto my cheek bone. i watch her tiny fingers clasp around the door handle and open it as she wiggles her way out, falling gracefully to the ground with a thud. this causes the back of her skirt to fly up around her cute ass and give me a perfect view of her white cotton thong as she skips to her front door.

fucking hell angel

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-

i didn't want to go home to the recurring sounds of yelling and slamming doors, but regardless, i knew that i had too.

as i entered my home, my demeanour completely changed. i tugged my skirt so it hung far lower against my hips, covering up as much skin as possible and pulling my blazer over my chest cover my partially sheer top.

i only dressed like that to tease harry.

i swear if my mother saw me dressed like that she would condemn me to hell and make me pray in front of our altar for many hours.

i grew up in the church, so catholicism was pretty much all my childhood consisted of. i played piano for our parish, and i spent on average 2-3 hours a day within the holy walls. i never really minded, because i didn't have anything better to do, seeing as cindy was staying in england.

my mother never liked her, said she was 'exposing me to the harsh reality of the world' which i didn't understand why that was a bad thing.

on the other hand, she absolutely adored harry for his way of shielding me from anything too perverse or rough for my innocent eyes.

how funny would it be, if she only knew he was the one causing these perverse thoughts to run wild in my mind.

i felt ever so guilty for feeling this way towards him, but i just cannot help myself.

my mother single-handedly raised me, my father abandoned her when he found out about the pregnancy, and the only thing i have to remind me of his existence is occasional birthday card he might send if i get lucky.

from that day, she became heavily religious claiming that 'our father' would save us. and of course i never knew better then to disagree.

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i loved mother, i really did. i mean, what child is ungrateful enough to say that they do not love their mother after how much they have sacrificed for them. nevertheless, there always came a time when her yelling and her scoldings became to much, but again i always ended up picking myself up off the floor, wiping away my tears and apologising to her.

an apology can always make amends, no matter whether you are in the wrong or not.

__________________

vote & comment for more

sorry this chapter was a filler

xo

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