daddy's girl ❥ luke hemmings ✔️

36. "sweet little girl"

LUKE

"Okay, everything's sorted," Rachel sighs, puffing her cheeks out as a pile of papers are dumped onto the coffee table in front of me. "Chris can't see Sophie anymore, Sadie's had a word with your management company, and the contract's getting dropped right after the tour is over."

"Which is in a month," I state, unsure of the actual date. Rachel nods.

"Yes. In three weeks and six days, Five Seconds of Summer will finally be Modest! free," she state. I can't help but to smile as she waves me off, grinning. "You can thank me later."

"Actually, I'll thank you now," I chuckle, standing up from my seat on the couch and holding my arms out for the older woman to step into. She does so happily, arms wrapping around my broad frame in a short embrace.

When we pull away, I can't help but to hold her by the shoulders, looking at her dead in the eye. "I mean it, Rachel," I say, sincerely, for none of this would have been possible without her output on the fact that Chris was a lousy publicity coordinator. She didn't just get him fired, either; she got the actual contract dropped. "Thank you. For everything."

"No, no, thank you," she says, shaking her head at me. "It's the least I could do for you, Luke. You've always been there for me, and for my little girl. We- I- owe you this."

"You don't owe me anything," it's my turn to shake my head, though I'm not complaining.

Rachel doesn't owe me anything because she gave me something the minute she stepped to the side, introduced the once shy seven year old to a rowdy group of wannabe pop-punks that eventually lived up to their title over time. She gave me a responsibility that I'd never dream of trading for anything else in the world, because that responsibility is no doubt the best thing that's ever happened to me. That 'responsibility' is Sophie.

I get back to the hotel room at an earlier time than I normally would. There's no show tonight and- thankfully- no more future meetings with management, so I have a little more time to myself for the evening.

"Hey, baby." I come into the little kitchen area, eyes landing on Sophie. She's cooking, or attempting to cook in the best way that she can, and she looks absolutely breathtaking in a pair of shorts and a flannel pyjama shirt.

She turns around, the pan in her hand filled with something white and mushy. "Hi, Daddy." she says sheepishly.

With a slight frown, I place my keys on the counter. "What are you up to?"

"Dinner," she mumbles, looking at the sludge with a sigh. Eventually she just leaves the pan on top of the stove, teeth gnawing on her bottom lip. "I was trying to make dinner."

"Oh, baby. You should have told me you were hungry," I say, now guilty because I hadn't bothered to ask her if she wanted anything on my way back from speaking with Rachel. "I would have picked up some food for you on my way home."

"I'm not hungry, Daddy," Sophie says honestly, shoulders slumping. "I was making it for you."

"For me?" my heart swells with love in my chest as I watch her nod, hair bouncing on her shoulders as she does so. I take a gentle hold of her wrist, pulling her into me in a long hug. "You're such a sweet little girl, you know that, right?"

"Not so sweet when I burn everything I cook," she mumbles, but there's a playful edge to her voice, a reassurance that she's joking. I chuckle.

"You don't have to cook, baby. Daddy can do that for you."

"But what if I want to cook for you?"

"Then you wait until I get home to help," I poke her little nose and she giggles. "Now," I say, letting her go for a brief second as I pull open the fridge. "Have you thought about how you want to decorate your room, yet?"