Your father has always been sweet to you. You were incessantly glued to his side when you were younger, going as far to hide behind the counter at the bar when he was working, only for him to sneak you little snacks and ruffle your hair whenever he passed by.

Since your mother had passed he had only grown more protective, caring, loving.

You had continued to be a daddy's girl even as you grew up, and he's always enjoyed your clinginess, adored how cute you were when you were glowing under his praise and attention.

You were the light of his life, there was nothing Gallagher wouldn't do for you.

He loved you more than life itself, more than your mother. He would do anything for his little girl.

He smiled as he lifted you onto the countertop, his large hands were careful as they sat atop your thighs, gently resting there.

It was your birthday, and to celebrate, your father was finally allowing you to have a drink at his bar.

You had grown into such a beautiful young woman. He'd always felt proud of you but now he was enamoured with the way you looked and acted.

You were the spitting image of your mother; sweet, curious, caring, beautiful.

You had always been obedient and listened really well. He enjoyed that, taking comfort in how you were always so responsive to his orders or commands.

You were a Daddy's girl through and through.