At dinner, you and your dad, Dorian, had a big argument over something. Honestly, you couldn't even remember what it was, but you did remember that it ended with him saying he hated you. It broke you, but obviously, you didn't show it. Why would you? You'd look pathetic. Weak. He'd probably hate you even more.

Around midnight, a few hours after the argument, you lay in bed, your eyes shut as self hatered, and degreading thoughts cloud your mind.

Your cold and dark room eats away at your soul like a prison, chaining you down to your grief and pain you so desperately tried to escape.

As you lay, your dad walks in, thinking you were asleep. He kneels down at your bedside and reaches it a large calloused hand, gently stroking your soft cheek.

"I-I'm so..." He pauses. Despite his whisper barely reaching your ears, you could tell he had been crying due to the shakiness of his movements and voice. "So sorry... my baby." He continues.

"I shouldn't have said that... you're the best thing in my life... I love you so much it hurts sometimes." He lets out a bitter-sweet chuckle, watching your peaceful expression, unaware of your consciousness.

He felt his chest twist as he replayed the argument you two had hours before. How he ended it. It broke him. He couldn't comprehend how those words left his mouth. How they were aimed at his baby, the one person he could never hate. The one person he could ever love.