"I can't do this Niall." You whispered into the brisk air, seeing your breath come out in a puff of white. Snowflakes settled gently on your hair and your clothes, along with everything else outside. The Irish boy squeezed your hand , hoping it would send you a bit of confidence. He sighed. "Yes you can. And you know that. You're just afraid of whatever will happen afterwards. Your his daughter. He can't hate you." You tightened your grip on Niall's hand and blew out a deep breath. "Fine," You mutter. "I can do this." You finish, emphasizing the 'can'. Niall unlocked the car doors and rushed to your side to open yours, taking your hand again. He promised he was staying by your side every minute if you needed him to, and well, you did. This was going to be extremely difficult. How were you supposed to know what your father would do when you told him? He abused you when you were just a small child and has been arrested more than once for horrific crimes. One including the murder of your own mother. You were an only child and there was a voice in the back of your mind that kept bugging you to run away from here, that he'll make you suffer for your announcement. This was all Niall's idea and you couldn't back down now. So you keep on walking towards your father's house at a slow and steady pace, one step at a time. The time comes when you reach the front door. It was exactly like it was when you ran away. Same scrapes along the front from cops beating on it. Same faded brown color. You took a deep breath, trying to lower your heart rate. You knocked once, then twice. No answer. "That's it. He obviously doesn't care enough to open the door." You stated, believing every word you spat out. At the same time you took a step back with a shrug, the door creaked open. "Who is it?" A raspy voice asked sternly. Your eyes shot wide open and you shakily replied. "I-It's your daughter. Y/N." Your hands began to sweat, like they always did when your anxiety level rose. You heard the click of the door being unlocked and your breath hitched at the sight of the man you saw. He was completely different. His hair had disappeared and weight was added to his body. "Y/N.." Your father whispered. He then cleared his throat, changing his tone completely for the next sentence. "Who's this, this boy?" You saw how he cringed at the last word and immediately you knew this visit wasn't going to end well. "H-His name is Niall. And w-we need to t-talk." You stammered shyly. Your father stepped aside to let you inside and you held your breath at the stench. It reeked of alcohol and something unfamiliar, but you assumed it was some kind of drug. "Please, take a seat on the couch. I'll sit on the chair." He said and you were surprised that he was actually being civil with you and Niall. "What is it you, er we, need to talk about , sweetie?" He questioned with the most kind tone he could pull off. Somehow you knew he was acting. He wasn't really like this, that was a fact. Well, a fact based off five years ago when you still lived there. "After I, uh, left here," you began, adjusting the collar of your shirt because it was becoming extremely uncomfortable. "I met Niall and we grew really close. Before we knew it, we graduated high school and got a place of our own." The look plastered on your father's face showed that he cared, and anyone who didn't live with him throughout their child years would think he really did, but you knew better. "And well, I'm pregnant." For a few moments, there was absolute silence, and since no one was saying a word, you decided to add on. Niall glided his thumb against your hand and you felt a burst of confidence run through your body. "I'm going to have a child, dad." At the sound of his name, your father looked up at you, a smile on his face. This time, it looked genuine, no falseness about it. Before you could even process what was happening, you felt arms wrap around you tightly. "I can't believe I'm going to be a grandfather." You heard and for once, you knew that your father has changed. Not just for you or for anyone in specific, but for himself.
