𝘋𝘖𝘎 𝘋𝘈𝘠𝘚 𝘈𝘙𝘌 𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘙 ❥ Peter Quill daughter ✓

06. ka boom!

LAYLA QUILL TRUDGED ALONGSIDE
her dad and Owen, the atmosphere heavy with tension as they made their way back to the bar. Each step felt like a weight on Layla's chest, knowing she was in for it once her dad decided to address the situation. Peter remained ominously silent, a sure sign that he was seething with anger.

"So you think it's funny to not listen to me anymore?" Peter's voice finally cut through the silence, his tone clipped and controlled, yet laced with an undercurrent of restrained fury. Layla's heart sank further at the sound of his voice. She knew this tone all too well—it meant trouble.

She dared not speak, fearing that any words that slipped from her lips would only worsen her predicament. Peter often adopted this tactic of silent contemplation when she was in trouble, and Layla knew better than to provoke him further.

"What did I tell you?" Peter's voice demanded, his gaze piercing as he turned to fix his eyes on Layla.

Layla exhaled heavily before responding, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not to go far..." she muttered, barely audible.

"And what did you do?" Peter's glare intensified, his frustration palpable.

"I went far..." Layla admitted, her voice barely audible this time, filled with remorse.

Peter ran a hand through his hair in frustration, releasing a heavy sigh. "Not only did you go far, you were doing drugs," Peter's voice was taut with disappointment and concern.

Layla's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her expression mirroring her incredulity. "Drugs, dad? Really?" she exclaimed, disbelief coloring her tone.

Peter let out an exasperated groan, his patience wearing thin. He knew Layla was testing the boundaries, but he couldn't fathom her involvement in something as dangerous as drug use. "Yes, Layla, drugs. You know how I feel about young people getting involved in that kind of stuff," Peter's voice carried a hint of desperation, a plea for his daughter to understand the gravity of the situation.

"If 'tweedle dumb' is going to be a bad influence on you, I'm not going to let you hang out with him," Peter's words were firm, his resolve unwavering.

"Dad, I'm sorry...okay," Layla muttered, her voice tinged with desperation, hoping that her apology might soften the impending blow of her punishment.

Peter took a deep breath, his expression softening marginally as he looked at his daughter. "Layla Meredith Quill," he began, his tone firm yet tinged with a hint of exasperation. The use of her full name made Layla cringe inwardly, knowing it meant her father was serious. "'Sorry' doesn't change the fact that you'll be grounded for the next two weeks," Peter declared, his decision final.

Layla's mouth fell open in disbelief. Two weeks of being grounded felt like an eternity to her, and she couldn't fathom being confined to the ship for that long. "Two weeks is crazy, dad!" Layla protested, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

Peter merely shrugged in response, his expression unwavering. "You know what's crazy? Me having to go on a full-on search to find you," he retorted, his voice tinged with a mixture of worry and annoyance. "I was worried sick!"

Layla's anger flared at her father's calm demeanor, her frustration reaching its peak, she huffed as if she was five years old again. "Should I make that three weeks?" Peter suggested, his tone laced with a hint of warning as he caught Layla's defiant glare.

With a loud groan of frustration, Layla crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her expression a mixture of defiance and resentment. "I hate you!" she exclaimed, her words dripping with adolescent indignation as she stormed ahead of her father.