SOPHIE
I fall asleep on the couch sometime around 11pm, after endless hours wondering what the hell just happened with Daddy and if any of that actually happened at all. A part of me doesn't believe so. Another little part of me wishes it was just a dream.
The part side, though, the part that I do actually listen to, wishes it had gone a little further than it did. Which is wrong, yes- there's no doubt about it- but a lot of things haven't necessarily been right lately so you can hardly blame me.
I wake up some time aorund 3am. I've noticed that I've been getting shorter hours of sleep and longer dazed, unproductive phases. I should really fix that but that's not the main thing chipping away at my mind right now.
Daddy's sitting on the couch of the bus opposite me and I don't notice him until I shift land a blanket falls to the floor. I'm pretty sure that it wasn't there a few hours ago, and my cheeks turn a slight shade of pink at the thought of Luke draping it over me whilst unconscious.
It shouldn't be leaving such an imprint on my mind but after the events of just earlier on, not thinking about it simply seems insane.
Daddy looks like he wants to say something to me but isn't quite sure what yet. He's sitting on the the seat, looking at me, fiddling with his fingers. I can't read his expression- the tourbus is too dark and my eyesight isn't the best- but I assume it's not the happiest.
I stay where I am, half off of the couch and the other half fully sunken into it. I'm afraid that if I move, he'll disappear, making my halfhearted wish of everything being a dream come true.
Even in the dim glow of the moonlight streaming in through the window, Daddy manages to look breathtaking. He's wearing an old flannel of his, buttoned halfway up, and ripped black skinny jeans that I'm assuming are new- they don't look too worn out. Then again, I'm judging by a squint and a shadow.
A beanie is what's keeping his hair down, tucked behind his head, barely touching the tops of his ears. A beer is in his hand. The slight sight of it makes my stomach flip.
Daddy doesn't drink any more around me because he knows how much it bothers me. It shouldn't, I know it shouldn't- he can take perfect care of himself- but it does. Maybe it's just the psychological fear of him doing something stupid because of the intoxication, or maybe it's because of how much he used to drink before I indirectly forced him to cut down, but whatever the reason, I'm just happy he stopped for a little while.
He looks at me and that's when I realize how long I've allowed myself to stare at him. I probably look a mess, like I always do when I wake up, but he doesn't seem to care. There doesn't seem to be much emotion on his face other than the stoic one painted on since I woke up.
I move myself, deciding that a position in which I'm sitting up fully is much more comfortable than the awkward lean I have on the back of the couch. I can feel Daddy's eyes burn into me as I turn to the side, shuffling the rest of my body back onto the seat before tucking my knees up to my chest.
We're alone in the tourbus, I know this much. There's no faint sound of Michael playing Pokémon on whatever handheld device he's got, no echo of Ashton's little giggles, no screaming at them both to stop from Calum. That, and all of the bunk curtains are pulled back, exposing four empty beds.
I don't expect him to be, but Daddy's the first one to speak. He sets his beer bottle down on the floor, tearing his eyes away from me as his gaze locks onto his fumbling fingers. He looks tired, but he doesn't look drunk. It must be his first bottle or even his second; Luke's not a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.
"Did I wake you?" his voice is soft, but it breaks. His tone is gentle, but the meaning behind it is rough. I don't know whether or not he was crying before I woke up but his words come out at hoarse, making me think so.
Warily, I shake my head no. Daddy nods. It's painfully obvious that we both have no idea what to say. After the intimate moment we shared just few hours prior, almost nothing seems appropriate to do now.
I'm at a loss for things to do so I end up fidgeting. I've never been this nervous around Luke before. Not even when I was younger and didn't know him all that well. It's crazy how things change and progress, from something so innocent to a feeling that's entirely forbidden.
I've zoned out again. I don't notice Daddy standing up and making his way towards where I am until I feel a dip in the empty couch space next to me.
I look up at him, a mixture of dazed and confused and in absolute awe of how flawless he looks. I can't lie- Daddy has this certain trait that makes my heart flip regardless of what he's doing. Even the simplest act of stretching an arm across the back of the couch causes a breath to hitch in my throat, eyes scoring along each and every muscle in his bicep as he flexes.
He's not drunk. Like I said, Luke doesn't get drunk easily and I can't even smell the beer from where I'm sitting, which is very close to him.
The bottle doesn't even look half empty and I know that if he had had a couple of beers before that one, he'd be much more tipsy than he currently is right now.
His hand finds mine and the gesture is so unexpected that I almost pull away. I save myself though, instead linking our fingers like I've done plenty of times before in the past.
It's only different now because I know where his hands have been- likewise, it's different now because I know where I want Daddy's hands to be.
We stare at each other, studying our features quietly. I'm not sure whether or not he's thinking about me as deep as I'm thinking about him, but surprisingly, I don't care. I'd give anything to remove the tension from this moment and if that means disregarding the possibility that he may be regretting what we did, then so be it.
Daddy's arm wraps around my shoulder, pulling me in close. It's weird for me not to cuddle into him so that's exactly what I do; I drape my own arm across his torso, pulling him closer to me, breathing in the scent of his familiar cologne like it's a type of oxygen I've been deprived of.
We have a lot of hugs like these, random cuddles on the couch or on the bed or even in the hotel lobby when we're sure noone's around to judge. This is normal for us. What's not normal, however, is how much I'm craving his fingers to be somewhere other than interlocked with my own.
Daddy brings my hand up to his lips, kissing my knuckles gently. His mouth is warm and the kiss lingers for a little while longer than I'm used to, but I don't mind. I like it; perhaps a lot more than I should.
Then he brings our hands back down, giving mine a reassuring squeeze before leaning back and looking at me deep in the eyes again.
I watch as his plump lips open, words pronounced in a hushed whisper; mimicking a secret that should be kept from the world.
"You know I love you, right?"
I nod. I'm too tense to even form the proper words so I just nod. Daddy sighs.
His other hand cups my face as he swallows, jaw clenching, blue eyes ablaze with a certain type passion I've only ever seen in them a couple of times.
"Baby?"
This, I can answer to.
His voice is back, his strong, accented voice that makes me feel safe and secure, the pitch of it that isn't broken because Daddy knows what he wants now and he isn't afraid to show it.
It's the voice that I've always loved, the tone that's never let me down, and the more I hear it the more terrified I am of it slipping away.
"Yes, Daddy?" I'm shy in my words, contrasting Luke's completely. I guess that's how we fit so well together. If opposites were originally made to attract then I'm grateful that we are nothing alike.
"You know that..." he gulps slightly, trying to find his words as I brace myself for the impact. "...That what we did, earlier..."
I don't let him finish. I know what he's going to say and I can't quite condition my mind to accept it.
"It's wrong?" I say quietly, staring down at our interwined fingers. From a Nikon snapshot, or a blurry polaroid of this very scene, you wouldn't think it to be a father and a daughter. You'd think a couple, a couple going through a rough patch and trying to fix things up, two people who don't have to worry so much about things being wrong and things being right.
That's the beauty of a picture. It tells a story to a certain extent, and people don't often bother to delve deeper for the alternative.
Real life is a whole other explanation. Things have backstories. People have curiosity burning in their veins and questions grazing the flesh of their throats. You can't expect to do one thing without it harbouring a consequence, one way or another.
Luke nods, very slowly, as if it softens the fact that he's telling me something I already know.
"Yes."
"Then why did you do it?" I mumble. I almost hear him hesitate.
"I... I don't know," he sighs soundlessly. "But I shouldn't have. I really shouldn't have, baby, and I'm sorry."
He looks genuinely apologetic. I feel disgusting for wishing that he wasn't.
"Don't be," I murmur, moreso to myself than him. This conversation is headed in the one direction I'd prefer it not to go- not unless my numerous questions get answered before it has the chance to, that is.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, baby?"
"Please tell me the truth," I whisper, turning to face him. Luke looks down at me, eyebrows furrowed slightly, but he doesn't shake his head no or refuse. I take this as an open oppurtunity. "Did you mean any of it?"
"Any of what?"
"Those things that you said," I reply softly. "Earlier. When you... had me against the couch."
Another sigh falls from his lips and my shoulders slump. I shouldn't be urging the topic on like this but it needs to be done.
"Yes," Luke responds suddenly, without even missing a beat. My heart flips. I watch him swallow, attempting to quickly regain himself.
"I-I mean... it's still..." he's struggling to find the right words and I'm struggling to understand why. "It's still-"
"Wrong."
"Yes." he says, giving up, scratching the back of his neck and toying with his lip ring. "It's still wrong, baby."
"Then why did you say it?"
Daddy shrugs his shoulders slightly, the smallest, most obscure hint of a defeated smile playing on his lips. "I-I still don't know myself,"
"Was it in the heat of the moment?"
"I-I guess."
"Oh."
"I'm sor-"
"Is that what made it okay?"
"Huh?"
I bite my lip, my nerves getting the better of me. "Was it okay then because it was 'in the heat of the moment'?"
Daddy doesn't reply. I feel like I've lost him completely; it sounded much better in my head than out loud.
Finally, (and to my surprise) he nods. It's faint and almost unnoticable, but it's there. This alone is enough to give me hope.
"Daddy, can I ask you something?"
"Yes, little girl. Anything."
"What if I acted in the heat of the moment now?" I ask. He raises an eyebrow lightly, moving his face to align with the glow of the moon trailing in through the curtains.
"What do you mean?"
"If I acted on impulse, now," I say, hesitantly. "If I leaned over and kissed you." his eyes widen the slightest bit. "Would that... would that still be wrong?"
"I-I-" he stutters. "I think s-"
"But that would make all the things you said to me wrong, too."
"I-I know," he looks guilty and I feel the exact same because I'm responsible for his uncomfort, for putting him on the spot like this. Even so, I'm relentless, trying to ignore the negatives eating away at my morality as I try to press on.
"Daddy?"
"Hmm?"
"Would you kiss me back if I kissed you?"
"W-what?"
"If I kissed you now. Would you kiss me back?"
"Sophie..."
"What if it wasn't wrong? What if we weren't like this?"
He exhales. "Then I would. I would kiss you back." my heart is hammering so loud in my chest that it feels ready to burst any minute now. "I'd kiss you back and I wouldn't be able to stop."
"Daddy?" I whisper, inching closer to him. It may just be me, but I swear Luke does the same. He cranes his neck down so that our faces are just centimetres apart.
"Yeah, baby?"
"People will think we're weird if we kiss, won't they?"
"Maybe,"
"Do you think we're weird if we kiss?"
He pauses. "N-No,"
"Can I kiss you, Dadd-"
"Fuck it. Kiss me, just kiss me," Daddy says breathlessly, cupping the side of my face with his broad hand before smashing his lips against mine.
❥
Well I mean it only tOoK 23 cHaPtErsS
So now we are here and the real smut cAN bEgIN
I'm half asleep right now and half dead because my head is fucking up and I can't see things properly but I hope you guys liked this chapter and I'm sorry if it's got any errors xx
I love you all. Thank you so so so much for reading! Daddy's Girl is at 100k and I can't believe it aw, it means a lot to me!
Take care you guys :-)
-M xxx