(daddy's little girl) (Permanently Discontinued)

chapter fifteen

Sitting back down in his chair, moxxie watched as his mother cut his steak. The seat next to him empty where you should've been.

It was a shame, really. He had wanted to play with you outside in the backyard.

Father's seat was also empty, leaving him and his mother left at the table to eat.

"We're having some people over tomorrow night. So I need you to your sister her new modifed dress."

His mother spoke, gesturing over to a dress that had little tassels at the bottom of it. With red roses decorating the dress's fabric, the back of the dress had two holes for your wings.

Since most of your clothes do not fit you anymore, Thanks to your new appendages.

His mother handed him back his plate, smiling softly at him as she went back to cutting her own.

"Who is coming over tomorrow night?"

Moxxie asked, chewing the hard meat in his mouth that only seemed to soften with gravy.

His mother hummed, setting down the knife on a napkin beside her plate.

"I believe it's your father's friend and his two sons."

She spoke unsure, grabbing her glass of water.

Moxxie hummed, satisfied with what was said. So Chaz was coming over, and with a sibling? He didn't even know Chaz had a brother.

Well, at least you'd have company to entertained.

How long would you be in bed for? When will you get your eye surgery?

"Are you going to eat? You've been starin' at your plate for ten minutes."

Crimson spoke up, taking a seat in his chair as Mia left the table with her empty plate in hand.

Blinking rapidly out of his thoughts he shoveled the cut up steak into his mouth quickly.

Crimson hummed, looking down at his own plate. He had eaten only half of his steak, the time being consumed by giving you, your eye drops to soothe the pain. And putting some cold cream on your back, he hadn't the foggiest clue about what it was called.

All he could remember was the doctor telling him it would help soothe the wounds and heal your back scars quicker.

And just as he said, the scars on your back healed. Sure, it would take a couple more weeks but the parts where you were missing chunks of flesh had mended together, shutting the open wound completely.

It has been a task not to gag, the flesh was soft and spongey. And every time he applied the cream directly on the flesh he had to close his eyes, willing himself to ignore the squelching sound, or the feel of its soft and squishyness.

His food was cold but he could manage. It wouldn't have been cold if he hadn't take a vary long time washing his hand, he had repeatedly scrubbed his hands clean, going over the same spots to the point we're the flesh he had scrubbed repeatedly was redder than the rest of him.

Moxxie set down his fork, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. His father was oddly quiet, no puffing off his smoke or soft grumbles. It was unnatural to him, standing up he grabbed his plate pushing in his chair as he walked to the kitchen casting one last look over his shoulder at his father.

His father's posture was slumped forward, it screamed exhaustion. His tail didn't twitch or move, it just laid stiff on the floor. His hair wasn't neat but it wasn't messy either and his attire wasn't proper.

His tie was loose, and the buttons on his suit, which were just for show. Weren't done up.

You'd think he was the one that was deadly sick, but no. You were and you didn't even look, the only way you'd be able tell if you were sick were your eyes.

They'd be glazed over with a misty kind of fog in them. Other than that, there was no body ques as to when you get sick.

His mother and father learned that the hard way when you came down with a vary bad fever. They only noticed when he spoke up about your eyes, Which were vary foggy looking.

"Here, sweety. Let me see that."

His mother spoke up, taking his plate from him and putting it in the sink to wash.

Word count 725