Chapter Text
“Daddy…?”
He looked up from the TV, his gaze focusing slowly. Its flashing lights left a slight ache underneath his eye lids as his eyes focused on the little girl beside him.
“Yes?” He muttered.
“When is mommy coming home?” She asked.
He swallowed his own spit, looking at the wooden floor for half a second. He looked back at her.
“Just a little more, sweetheart. I’m not sure how much. She went out with some friends.” He said, trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “Is there anything you need?”
The seven year old shook her head, unbothered. She leaned against him, focusing on the kids TV show that was playing in front of her, some Víctor didn’t recognize. It made sense since it was around 11 pm.
He had allowed Iria to stay up a bit since she didn’t have school the next day, and he believed it wouldn’t really do any harm to her if she wasn’t sleepy on her own, which was unusual. Despite not being his daughter, it seemed as if she had gotten her love for sleep from him.
He reached down, gently running his hand through her blonde hair. It was getting pretty long, he thought, chuckling quietly. He looked at her for a few seconds. She was the only thing keeping him going, even if she didn’t know that.
He wanted a beer, he really did, but he could never bring himself to drink in front of a kid. The thought alone made him sick to his stomach. He sighed.
“How long till it's morning…?” She asked quietly, her expression slightly afraid as he looked up at him. He looked back at her, smiling. She didn’t normally stay up late, so she probably thought morning was just a few minutes away and she’d be in trouble. He giggled. “Still quite a bit.” He said, his tone sweet and fond. “Do you wanna go to bed?”
She nodded quietly. He reached for the remote of the TV, struggling for a second before managing to turn it off. He stood up and turned the lights on, reaching for her carefully and lifting her onto his arms as Iria rubbed her eyes. She clung to him, hugging him. He smiled, kissing her forehead.
They made their way to her bedroom. Víctor laid her gently before turning the night light on, tucking her in. She let him, yawning.
He kneeled by the bed, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “No bed time story today?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
He smiled. “Good night, sweetheart. We love you.” He said softly. He knew he did, but he wasn’t so sure about the rest of the statement. He would never tell her that, though. God, the girl was barely eight. And he didn’t want her to grow up in a lie, but if that meant keeping her safe from being hurt, he would do it. At least, until she had the mental power to sit with him. Only there would he tell her the reason why she would never see him when she looked at herself in the mirror. He would rewrite the definition of “dad” in the dictionary if he could make it say “a person that acts like a parental figure during a kid’s childhood” instead of just “a father”.
When he snapped out of his thoughts, she had already turned around, fast asleep. He sighed and stood up, his knees cracking slightly, leaving her bedroom.
He walked into the balcony, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He pulled one out, lighting it up. He took a drag from it, exhaling the smoke. Just then, his phone rang. As he reached into his pocket and pulled it out as well, he read the caller’s ID. It was his sister. He pressed the button, answering it.
“¿Estás bien? He visto tu llamada perdida antes.”