(daddy's little girl) (Permanently Discontinued)

chapter five

Moxxie sat at the table in silence, everything was quiet and calm.

Turning his head he watched as his father gently woke you up for breakfast, the both of you had been curled up on the couch together fast asleep.

Envy filled his gaze, why couldn't he be the son his father wanted? Why couldn't he be big and strong like you? He couldn't help but let the dark thoughts in.

If something were to happen to you, then his father would have no choice but to train and teach him more.

Maybe if he chocked you it would be quick, or if he staged an old antique to fall and crush you, it would be an accident. And no one would be the wiser on who or what happened.

He paled, what was he even thinking?! Harm you? He could never, not even if a captor were to take both of you and say: you cut your sister's finger off for your freedom, or you cut your own off for her freedom.

He'd chop that digit right off, and he knew you'd do the same.

Looking down at the table as shame seeped in, how could he think of such awful things? He cared far more for you than he even cared about himself.

His mother came into the dining room, carrying plates of food.

Setting his down in front of him she watched as he shakily picked up the fork, shoveling the freshly made eggs and bacon into his mouth.

He watched from The corner of his eye as you slowly woke up from your sleepy slumber yawning as his father took a seat in his chair.

You yawned once more, picking up the fork slowly as you shoveled the food in your mouth.

Your hair was sticking up in different directions, your nightgown was wrapped around your waist with a red ribbon to keep it off the floor and as to not trip on it.

Your mother sat down into her seat, buzzing with excitement as she watched crimson go to take a bite of the poisoned food.

Crimson watched you eat, looking down at his food it emitted an odd smell, not horrendous, but not good either.

Scrunching his brows up he put the fork to his nose, it smelled really odd, it didn't smell like eggs and bacon.

Suspicion arised, narrowing his eyes at his 'wife' this wasn't the first time he had his food poisoned.

Setting the fork down he pushed the plate away from him.

"Actually I ate earlier this morning, how bout' you take it to the sharks."

He spoke, watching as his 'wife' stood up, taking the plate out of the dining room and out of sight.

"Daddy, who is Chaz?"

You asked, watching as your father released a low grumble.

"He's The son of my friend who's coming over. The kid is as dumb as a fuckin' goldfish."

Crimson spoke, leaning back into the chair as his 'wife' came back into the room, holding The empty plate.

She sat back down in her seat, her thoughts angerily swirled around her head. She gripped her fork tightly in her hand, watching as crimson stood up to refill his wine glass.

She'd just have to up here killing game.

Word count 550