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[sweetsalome]

Life is busy and full, there is always something to do, some place to go.

School, home, practice, homework, some lesson, some other extra circular activity on the day planner.  It has been like this ever since she could remember.  There isn't ever a whole lot of down time.  At some point she decided that she was a shark, any stopping would mean she would completely die.

Or something equally dramatic.

Shutting the front door with her hip, she drops her back pack near the front door and continues further into the house, tossing her gym bag into the laundry room without much of a thought before stepping into the kitchen to find food.  Yes, food, there must be something because she is starving.

Headphones in, ipod on, inner debating warring on if she should even bother starting her homework now or waiting for study hall.

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[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

It's impossible to know what Susan wants. Richard has no idea what she wants. Obviously, yes, she wants him as a semi-permanent boytoy whom she can have whenever she likes, she likes him as her errand boy-slash-employee, she likes to hold Salome over his head as the greatest debt and threat imaginable, but why, he doesn't quite understand. She claims he has potential, claims she sees him growing more and more every time she sees him, but to what end, he doesn't know. And why him, he doesn't know.

But Salome is worth the occasional irritation of dealing with her insane mother. She was a complete accident, yes, and for the first five or six years of her life his existence was a day-in, day-out horrorshow spurred on by producing a child at nineteen, even one so sweet and adorable as she was when she was little. No nineteen-year-old boy, particularly not one like Richard, is ready for a child. But he finds himself glad he persevered, since these days he's rather grown accustomed to her face.

"You were a surprise, yes. But not unwanted." This is a lie, but he makes it sound gentle, reassuring, earnest and warm. She says such sweet things, his girl, he supposes the least he can do is soften reality to make it gentler for her. "I was younger, and stupider when you were little. But that doesn't mean you were unwanted."

Chuckling, Richard bends to kiss the bridge of her nose. "And I can't imagine a lovelier daughter." For more reasons than one. "Of course you can sleep with me, darling, I already said you could. How could I possibly turn you away after all this? Besides, I want to be able to hold you." He grins, teeth snapping shut a centimeter from the tip of her nose. "But you have to finish at least a bit of your homework before you go to bed."

In the future, he'll have to make sure her work is finished before he lets her get frisky. But, hey, first times are different. Spontaneous and emotional all that. For now, he can more than overlook it.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

There is no way for her to tell if he is lying or not. Well, there probably is a way, but she isn't going to go looking for it, for mainly the same reason most people don't go looking for it, the lie is so much nicer then reality. Why question such a beautiful, wonderful lie? Of course she was wanted, it was just a surprise, she can totally buy that, hook, line and sinker. It could be worse, he could have told the truth and that would have crushed her tiny self, and even the fact that he did lie to her can be seen as a sweetness.

Some people will tell themselves crazy stuff to get through the night.

Smiling she snuggles and nuzzles against his chest with a sigh, her hand still roaming over him as he caresses and murmurs to her. Ugh, real life, somewhere outside her bedroom is real life and she should actually deal with it. The worst choice ever to have to make, sleep or food, sleep or food? Because at this point all she wants to do is pass out in his arms and not move for a very long time. Oddly enough she thinks better about complaining and resisting the homework, clearly there is some sort of parenting magic in having sex with your child.

"I'm tired though, and hungry," a sigh against his shoulder and she looks up at him. "I'll do my homework over dinner, how about that?"

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

Wow. He's not a fan of bargaining, but he'll take it over out-and-out complaining--or, God forbid, whining--any day. Parenting magic, indeed. This is great. It's not only a new way to bond, but it's like a whole new tool in his arsenal in the war that is having a teenager. Once they get over that whole little Delilah issue, things'll be peachy.

Totally.

Richard laughs low, having been only barely holding on to consciousness, himself. "Baby, you've got no idea what hungry and tired feels like. You've taken it right out of me." If nothing else, this is a good fix for his insomnia. "I'm going to have to crawl downstairs."

He stretches, bending down to plant a couple of playful smooches down her neck--has it always been this lovely?--before pulling her down to his chest and kissing the top of her head. His fingertips grope around on the bedside table for the girlie little lamp, and when he shuts it off, his arms drape around her waist. "Let's just take a little nap for a couple of minutes, the food's not going anywhere. I can only pretend to crack the whip about your homework when I'm more awake."

What a peculiar feeling it is, to be lying in his daughter's bed, having completely desecrated it right along with her, that lovely, lithe body up against his with no barrier between their flesh. He grins in the dark of her room and kisses her shoulder, taking a deep breath as much to steady himself as to savor the scent of her.

A stupid idea, and thoughtless, and one that may very well end up scarring the poor girl for life. But she seems to have enjoyed it, and there are certainly worse crimes in the world.

If he had a conscience, he's sure it'd be perfectly clean.