Wishes

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Nick Stone

"She.. uh. She slipped."

I saw Charlie wince with pain as she struggled to sit up. I took hold of her hand to help her up, but she slapped it away.

"That hurt!" I complained.

"Really? That hurt?" she retorted, sarcasm rolling off in waves.

My father put down the bat and helped Charlie up, also took care of the mess.

"This is the reason why I have to go home early. I just realized that Alex will be working tonight, meaning there'll be no one to stop you from killing each other." he sighed.

I tried to avoid Charlie's scathing glare, she's rubbing at her head, probably forming a lump there.

I honestly don't know what happened. We were arguing, I was really pissed off at her, but then I looked down and saw her chocolate brown eyes filled with hurt. It was a different Charlie all over again.

It was that Charlie I took care of, the one unprotected by the harsh world she's living in alone.

I had the sudden urge to protect her. It's fucking corny and cheesy as hell.

But I seriously didn't intend to push her that hard.

"I really expected you, Nicolas, to be a gentleman enough and be the better person..." my father drone on but I zoned out.

"I'll be in my room, excuse me." Charlie said quietly when Marco finished his rant.

My father looked at her, worried.

"But I bought roasted pork belly, sweetheart. I know it's not my own personal recipe but you'll love it, too. You should eat."

"No, I'm fine, Mr. Stone. Thank you."

We watched as she walked out of the kitchen and took the stairs. My father and I looked at each other. Charlie never turn down food.

Marco cocked an eyebrow at me, I then avoided his knowing gaze.

"What?" I asked a little defensively.

"You should really learn how to treat a lady properly. When I was your age, if there's a girl like that living in our house, I'd totally bang-"

"What- No! Dad, eew, I don't wanna hear it, it's disgusting!" I drowned his voice with my own. It really is disgusting and awkward, having conversation like that with your old man.

Marco just laughed at me, finished with hanging up the pots and pans. He took out a dish and dumped the roasted pork belly in it, then stuck it to the oven to heat.

"You do know that you sounded like a freaking girl just now, right?" he teased at me, then eyed the ramen on the table.

I just rolled my eyes at him, taking a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Did you eat this? It smells spicy." my father asked, sniffing at the bowl. He knows I can't stand that much spice.

"I tried to." I answered offhandedly. I watched him pour the contents down the drainage. My father isn't a fan of instant food, especially for his children.

"That girl must be having serious domestic issues.." he muttered.

I saw worry and concern in my father's eyes. His mouth set to a tight line. I won't be surprised if he run a personal investigation regarding Charlie and her family.

"Can you make it to the game?" I asked him. He didn't mind the abrupt change of subject.

"When did I ever missed your games, Nick?" he smiled at me warmly. He had played football in his early years, but never minded that I chose soccer as my sport. He's very supportive about it.

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