And holy muffin shit, The younger one looks exactly like me, same hair, same eye.
You mean, you look like him?
My inner bitch has to shut up sometimes, more like every freakish time.
"So, you're the father of the year, yeah?" I asked, narrowing my...
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"My father huh?" I look at the man who looks very much like me. His eyes were watching me carefully. His eyes gleamed in something I couldn't decipher. If I let my power guide it then it's from happiness.
And I don't know why he is being too damn happy.
The nerves jitter in me as I look at him. It's going to be Evening soon, the orange light from the setting sun filled the air with quiet.
He gave a small nod and A little frustrated grunt left my lips. Is he going to speak or just roll his head at every damn question?
"I didn't know you were that eager to talk to me, amore" he chuckled slowly.
Did I say that out loud?
Fuck.
I narrowed my eyes on him. "If you are my father, where were you till now?" The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Where's Lyla?" I added.
His eyes thinned into fury, his jaw muscles twitching.
"Did you marry her? Or are you just her sugar daddy?" I question further.
God, how the hell Lyla got this fine man?
"Not to offend but you look like a man who has taste" I gave him once over.
The man is wearing a tailored Richie rich, like my kidney will be on double sell kinda suit with a Rolex in his hand. Even his shoes seem fancy, freshly rolled out of some shop in Paris.
Lyla doesn't know any voodoo shit then getting High on her drugs.
Maybe he is also a druggie like her.
"No" he released a sigh or grunt like a wounded animal. "I didn't married her" I open my mouth to speak something but he shows me his palm, stopping me, that action shuts me up.
"I'm not her sugar daddy too" a grimaced, disgust rolling over his face.
"I'm your real father, Lyla had run away when she was pregnant" he explained, though i can feel the shimmering disappointment and rage brewing in him.
"Oh" I hummed, my fingers picking at the dead skin around my nails as I tried to understand it all. I am sixteen now if these people are telling the truth, How did I forget the last three years?
What had happened? There were so many questions but I couldn't get an answer from anything. Even though I tried to invade his mind and see if he was telling the truth, I couldn't. All I can see is blank space. It's like an empty canvas. I don't know what has gone wrong with me. A familiar migraine starts to boom at the back of my head.
A big hand wrapped around mine, warmth sipping through him as he looks at me with affection.
"Don't think much with that Little pretty head of yours, just rest yourself" he gave a small smile, his hand dropped by my hair, caressing it gently.
