Daddy issues || h.s

0.9

Her cheeks were rosy when she came home, closing the door softly behind her and throwing her jacket on the floor. She had never been a fan of coat hangers.

The house seemed empty, silent, and at first she thought she was the only one there. But then she could hear soft music floating from the second floor. She bit her lip, a look of wonder crossing her face. Her mother would never listen to that kind of music, which could only mean one thing; he was here.

Her sock clad feet started moving, almost against her will, towards the stairs. She could feel her heart beating in her throat, and her fingers twitching as she moved. A feeling of fright had settled deep in her stomach, but it drove her on. It lured her up the stairs, following the music. She had never felt like this before, so scared, yet so intrigued. And even though she wanted to hate the feeling, she couldn't help but love it.

The door to her mother's bedroom was wide open, and she stopped in front of it. The music seemed to come from in there. She held her breath, and peeked inside. The room was empty.

She frowned, and was just about to turn around and leave, but then she eyed the door to the en suite bathroom. It was slightly ajar.

A small voice in her head urged her to leave, but another, slightly more appealing one, told her to keep going. So she stepped into the bedroom, tiptoeing towards the door. As she came closer, she could hear water running, and a low voice humming. She stopped about a meter from the door, angling her head so that she could see inside the bathroom. She could only see a small part of it; the shower was out of sight from where she stood. So she took another step, trying to get a better look.

Suddenly, the shower stopped running, and she could hear him stepping out on the floor. She took a quick step backwards, holding her breath and hoping to god he wouldn't see her.

He stayed out of sight for a moment, probably drying himself off with a towel, but then he stepped in front of the mirror, and into sight.

He was naked, and she could see him in all his glory. She took in the sight of his wet ringlets, plastering to his face as he turned slightly to the right, and she could see his profile. His small button nose, and his plump lips shone in the light from the small bathroom window. Then her eyes travelled up his body, up his long legs, across his broad back, and she saw the muscles rippling under his skin. Her eyes stopped for a moment, looking at his bum, and she could feel a small smirk forming in the corner of her mouth. His skin was pale, almost milky white, with a hint of pink from the hot water of the shower. She wondered what it would look like in the summer, when the sun could kiss it and give it a light, caramel colour.

He lifted a white towel and started rubbing his hair dry. His damp curls fell over his eyes as he ruffled it and pushed it out of his face. Adelaide took a step to the side, the condensation on the mirror was fading away, and she didn't want him to see her through it. As she stepped away from the door, and turned her head to the cold, white bedroom, she saw a black notebook lying on the bed. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she walked over to it and opened it. It was filled with beautiful drawings done in elegant, grey pencil strokes. Whoever had drawn them must have been an exceptionally talented artist. The way the lines danced across the paper and formed beautiful images of hands and faces and flowers was simply breath taking.

Her eyes landed on the image of a cherry blossom, the details were beautifully formed, and the lines were so simple, the flower almost looked real. The sight of it touched something deep inside of her, and she felt tears stinging in her eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?" Harrys sharp voice cut through the room, and made her head snap up. His eyes were glistening with a kind of anger that scared her. Her mouth fell open, and she was unable to get a word out of her mouth. "You can't just come in here and look through my personal stuff! This is personal." He ripped the book out of her hands with a force that startled her. She took a couple of steps backwards, and she looked up and into his forest green eyes. Something moved inside of them, something deeper than anger; betrayal.