GreyAnarchy

 The hour was close to four in the morning, a thick coat of pitch darkness surrounded the bedroom. Molly was fussing in her crib; Liam heaved a heavy sigh and smacked the pillow over his head. She was becoming louder and more frustrated; her father groaned and turned on his back. Liam looked over at his peaceful wife and hesitated to wake her, he nudged her with his elbow. Madeline rubbed her eye and rolled over to her other side. She said one thing to her husband "she's yours until morning" Liam gently kissed her bear shoulder and slinked out of bed to comfort their daughter. Her hands grabbed at the air when she saw her father's face, he gr

"Would you like another round Mr. Clementi?" the bartender was cautious with his question, the raven haired man had already had six other bottles and was going downhill fast. The bell over the door rang again, several of the patrons moved their gazes to the front, Liam sluggishly lifted his head and peered over his shoulder. A small grin spread across his lips "there's my baby girl…" his voice was hoarse and severely slurred. The vixens hand touched his hair gently "how much is his tab Horace?" Liam murmured and nuzzled into her hand as she was handed the bill. With his debt paid he slumped off the bar stool and pressed his weight onto h

I watched you from the corner of my eye; you scurried back and forth across the carpeted floor of our apartment. I shrugged it off and continued to work on my laptop; I felt a tug at the leg of my jeans and moved my gaze from the illuminated screen. Your hands grasped at the air in front of you, obviously mentioning wanting for me to pick you up. I placed the small whirring machine down onto the coffee table and picked you up by your sides. I grinned and let the whiskers on my face slowly rub against your cheek; you giggled and grabbed two fists full of my hair. I winced a bit as our foreheads touched; you had a strong grip for someone so lit

"Daddy!" you scream. I fall off from the couch, being rudely awaken from my nap and scramble to my feet. I run into our room to see you on the bed, a bit of blood dripping from your finger. "Daddy, it huuuurts" you say, lower lip wobbling as if on the brink of tears. I sit on the edge and bring you close to me so I can take a look; it was just a small cut. You had made it seem as if it were going to fall off. I scoop you up into my arms and carry you to the bathroom; I rest you down near the sink and open the cabinet. "Daddy, make it better…" you say. I sort through the several bottles of pills until I find a small box of Band-Aids. I st