I sit on the carpet in the living room, playing with a few of the toys that Henry has given me. But as time passes, I start to feel slightly restless. I keep looking over at him, who's sitting at his desk and working on his computer. I feel a little needy, wanting his attention.
But he told me not to disrupt him. I feel a pang of sadness, as I don't want to be a bad girl, defying him any longer. I want those praises a lot more. I want to be a good girl, as what I truly am. But at the same time, I just want a hug– to sit on his lap and be cuddled. I'm not even in the mood to play anymore. I've been playing for hours. I'm tired.
I pout slightly, feeling a little frustrated at the contradiction inside of me. Part of me, the part that's craving Daddy's attention, is telling me to go over and demand his cuddles, regardless of whether it means disobedience or not. But the other part of me, the part that's determined to be Daddy's good girl, knows that I have to behave and wait until he's done with work.
After a few moments of this internal struggle, I give in to my neediness and slowly walk over to the dining table.
He turns his gaze away from the screen, eyeing me up and down, as if calculating whether I need his attention or not.
"Eileen," he says, "what's wrong?"
He can tell... Well, of course he can tell.
"Nothing, Daddy," I say quietly, avoiding his eyes. "I just... tired," is all I manage to say.
Henry chuckles softly, seeing through my poor excuse. He knows that I'm not tired, that I'm just feeling needy and wanting attention. But he decides to play along for the moment.
"Oh, you're tired, are you?" he asks, his voice gentle and playful. "Is my little girl feeling a bit clingy today?"
I bite the insides of my lips, nodding.
He smirks, seeing my nod and knowing that I'm confirming his suspicions. He leans back in his chair, patting his lap.
"Come on, then. Climb on Daddy's lap."
I blush, but feeling giddy and excited about doing so. I smile from head to toe, feeling so blessed.
I quickly climb onto his lap, eagerly snuggling up against his chest. I sigh contentedly, feeling his strong arms wrap around me.
"Daddy," I murmur, nuzzling my face into his shirt.
"Yes, baby," he whispers, kissing the top of my head. "Daddy's here."
I smile, feeling that strong sense of relief again, making tears threaten to fall.
I take a deep breath, savoring the feeling of being held in Daddy's strong embrace. I feel so small and vulnerable right now, but so safe and protected at the same time. Being in his arms makes me feel like everything is alright. That I'm safe, in all the ways one can be safe.
"Daddy," I say again, my voice soft. It feels so good to finally say it. To embrace it– not holding back.
"Eileen," he breathes, "tell Daddy what's wrong."
Nothing's wrong, and that is exactly why it hurts. Because everything finally feels... like home.
I feel a wave of emotions wash over me at his words, feeling comforted by his concern and gentleness. I take a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts.
"I know not to," I begin hesitantly. "But... can I just sit here with you for a little while? I promise I'll be quiet, I just... needy."
There's a brief moment of silence. "Is that the reason you're almost tearing up?" He asks.
I swallow, shaking my head.
"Then tell Daddy what's wrong and maybe I'll reward you for that bravery."
I look up at Daddy, feeling a mix of vulnerability and anticipation at his words. I know that he wants me to be honest with him, but I can't help feeling a little scared of revealing my true feelings at times. No matter who I'm with.
But his promise of a reward if I'm honest gives me a little courage. I take a deep breath and try to express what I'm feeling.
"I... I'm just... happy I have a daddy, sad that I have a daddy, but not sad that I have a daddy," I say quietly. "It feels good... too good... hurts."
Daddy frowns slightly, clearly puzzled by my emotional contradiction. He runs a gentle hand through my hair, his touch comforting and soothing.
"You're feeling happy and sad at the same time? How can that be, babydoll?" he asks gently. "Explain to Daddy."
I squirm restlessly in his lap, feeling a mixture of emotions swirling inside me. It's hard to put into words, especially now that I can't seem to grasp the words, as if they've vanished, temporarily, but I know that Daddy needs me to try.
"Grateful and happy that I have my Daddy," I say slowly. "But sad and unsure. Needy and scared that I'm too much. Scared I'll lose you... so scared."
Daddy continues to stroke my hair, his hand gentle and comforting. His face is filled with a mixture of understanding and concern. He looks down at me with a soft, affectionate expression.
"Oh, baby," he murmurs. "You're not too much. You could never be too much for me. I want you to need me. I want you to depend on me. And why would I insist on breaking into your shell, I didn't intend on taking care of the fragile little pearl inside of it, hm? Daddy would never do that."
I frown. But he doesn't know... I am much. I have... freaking ADHD. And it only enhances itself when I'm Little. My focus runs all over the place, I run into things even though I'm aware that it's right in front of me. I'm so much.
Daddy chuckles softly, sensing my doubt. He tightens his arms around me, holding me close.
"Babygirl," he says firmly, "Listen to me. You are not too much. I want you exactly as you are. And that includes those moments when your focus scatters or you forget things. That's all a part of you."
I blink. He knows? How could he? Huh?
Daddy notices my surprised expression and lets out a soft sigh.
"Yes, babygirl, I know about your ADHD," he says gently. " Firstly, you're not as subtle as you think you are. And I fucking do my research. I knew all I needed to know before your mom's celebration. But that doesn't make you too much, it makes you, you. And I think you're the most adorable girl ever, Eileen. You just need a little discipline and rules. A lot of rules."
I don't know whether to be flattered or scared by his stalkerish admission.
"You... uh... You did research on me before the party?" I ask, feeling both flattered and a little uneasy.
He nods, eyes intense and husky blue, gorgeously husky blue.
"Of course I did, babygirl," he says, his voice low and velvet. " For one, I wanted to know everything about you. Secondly, I wanted to know how I could help you. Even if this didn't... I just wanted to help you, Eileen."
"You... You really wanted to help me, even before knowing me?" I stammer out, my voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckles, licking his lips. "But I already knew the most important detail, baby," he whispers, brushing his rough gentle fingertips against my cheek. "You were a lost little baby. A pacifier... And to think you believe your Little cute self is a five-to-six-year-old." He chuckles even louder.
