[ STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER ]
It was 9 o'clock by the time Lucas reached the Black house, a bouquet of hydrangeas clutched in his hand, as he knocked on the door.
The boy let out a nervous sigh, before the door swung open, to reveal Martin Black.
"Can I help you?" Martin asked, his accent matching his daughter's, looking the boy up and down, eyes narrowing at the bouquet.
"Uh, my name's Lucas," The actor introduced himself, his mouth suddenly becoming very dry, "I'm, uh, I'm here to see Bekka,"
Martin glared at the teenager, "Stay away from my daughter," The man hissed, before slamming the door shut in front of Lucas' face.
"Daddy?" The sound of Bekka's voice came from the top of the stairs, making the man turn to face the girl, "Was - Was that Lucas?" She questioned.
"Uh, no," Martin shook his head.
"Then who was it?" Rebekka pressed.
"Just some people giving out leaflets for something," Martin lied, "Nothing important,"
"At 9pm?" Bekka asked, unconvinced.
"Uh-hu," Her father nodded.
"Right," The blonde hummed, "I'm gonna go to bed. See you in the morning,"
"Goodnight, sweetheart," Martin smiled.
"Goodnight,"
Bekka let out a sigh as she closed her bedroom door, confused as to why her father would lie to her.
The girl was so wrapped up in her thoughts, that she let out a small shriek of surprise when she heard a knock on her bedroom window.
"Lucas," She chuckled, opening the window for the dark-haired boy, who climbed in, "You're mental,"
"I am aware," Lucas nodded, before holding out the bouquet of flowers to her, "For you, m'lady," He bowed.
"Hydrangeas," Bekka grinned, giving a little curtsy.
"I just guessed," Lucas shrugged, "You like them?"
"I love them," Rebekka nodded "So would my mother,"
"You know, you never talk about her," Lucas said.
"That's because she's dead," Bekka whispered, barely audible.