In a world where everything seems perfectly logical and pragmatic. The thought of anything existing outside of the realm of what one already knows seems impractical.
That is how Melinda Morrison sees life.
The very life where she has shared nearly e...
"My daughter has something to tell me? This would not be the first time I've heard that. But as always, I am excited about what you have in store, Lavee." Father opened his arms out expectantly, a brush of a wide smile spread across his face as if he were pleased to see me at this moment.
I walked over to father as I always did when I came to visit him in his office—which was pretty often enough for us to set a bit of a routine. He used a bit of his magic to lift me from my feet so that I slowly levitated and rested on his lap. I placed a kiss on the side of his cheek, his own lips pressed at the top of my head endearingly.
Father's heavy oak wood desk was stuffed to the brim with various work documents he was overlooking; despite the desk being as large as it was and ornately designed with golden designs of the Plarinu's lineage etched into the wood and metal, it reminded me of the mess of my own desk back at the science lab.
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
I was constantly teased about how unorganized I seemed, but I always had the exact location of where I placed things in my mind; it was just that the person who watched from a distance that would think I didn't.
"I have to make a request of Father." I began.
Father's silver-moon-colored eyes gazed down at me curiously wondering where this topic of discussion will be going now.
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
"Anything my daughter desires, I will do my best to provide her with. So what can this father do for you?" He inquired.
I pursed my lips a bit.
My father, at least the one in this world was far more attentive—a complete contrast to the relationship I had with my dad in my previous life. I couldn't imagine sitting on that man's lap and asking for anything. The one time I did ask my father for something small, quality time to spend and have a meal together for one of my birthdays he made a mockery of me and compared me to my half-sister that I could never amount to.
I would never dream of ever being comfortable enough to vent out my frustrations or requests to him the way I was with the Grand Duke.
Funny enough, the longer I stayed here, the less I remembered those feelings of inadequacy and being unwanted by my own flesh and blood.
