"Ooh dear," Brooke thought as she took a look in her books. She knew it already but was totally convinced when she checked. Sometimes I hate the Uni, she thought. It was a lot to study and she knew she wouldn't know it by tomorrow. Started too late again. She knew she had to start earlier if she wanted to pass her exams, now there was no hope left. After a quick run through her books and papers she decided which things to learn and what too leave. She flicked quickly through the pages wishing she wasn't so lazy.
Brian grinned a bit: "Started too late?" "Yeah," she answered softly. "I told you, but once again you didn't listen." Brooke looked up annoyed: "Look Brian, I'm not a little child anymore and I'll pass." "You think? And if you're not a child anymore, then don't
behave like one." "Fuck off." Brian only shrugged, he only wanted to help her, but she was so stubborn. Brian glanced to John who sat there grinning: "Hey, I can't help it." Brian sighed and left the room. Brooke was still looking in her papers, trying to figure out what it was all about. John watched her patiently, he knew he'd better be quiet. Brooke was very touchy, even more when Cyb tossed milk into her bag with papers. With a furious blush on her face she had tried to ignore Cyb. Cyb also hadn't said anything, she had only mumbled an apology. Brooke had acted like she hadn't heard it. John shook his head despairingly, watching Brooke struggling through the papers and softly swearing. Finally John stood up and took Brooke in his arms: "Come on baby, you need some rest." His arms were warm and Brooke felt safe. She hid her face into his pull-over. "Let's go out," he said. It sounded like a fab plan.
Brooke sat quietly behind a table on a terrace. She dreamed slightly away, thinking about her own father and thinking of John as a father. She wished he was her father, she wished she could feel his arms around her. The missing of her own father had caused these dreams. The missing warmth of his arms, the love he gave when he held her close, his heart beating in her ear. Brooke couldn't help tears were coming into her eyes, and she couldn't stop them from falling down her cheeks. That was what she missed so much, the father, the strong man, his strong arms. Brooke had felt it more clearly since she was in London, mostly since her poster arrived with a few piccies of Brian and best of all, some piccies from John. John with sunglasses on, he looked so cool, he looked so happy. His fingers in his ears, sunglasses on his nose and a cheeky smile. Whenever Brooke looked at John's arms, she wished, she dreamt and she cried, longing for the warmth and strength of these arms. She wanted to play with the hair on his arms, stroking it softly playing with it. She wanted to hear his heartbeat, her ear on his chest, giggling, maybe playing nurse.
She remembered the moments when she crept up on her father's chest. He grabbing her and pulling her up to his warmth and his heartbeat. Laying there was peaceful and safe, warm and lovely.
"Miss, are you alright?" Brooke woke up with a shock. She looked up at a waiter who bent concerned over her. "I'm alright," she spoke rapidly wiping her tears away. She felt embarrassed, smiled lightly and decided to leave. As she walked she noticed nothing. It became clear a few nights ago.
John wrapped his arms around her, Brooke crept inside his arms. "Warm," she sighed contented. He smiled pleasantly, contented as well. He held her close, sniffing in her hair and stroking her back. It was nothing of a love-affair, it was just love. It was safe, stronger than anything, stronger than the love Brooke had felt for a boy, years ago, back at home. After laying there for a while she shifted a little, looking up at the face of someone so close to her, yet so far away. "Daddy," she whispered.
Since the death of her father the relationship between her mother became strange. Brooke didn't feel the relationship, it died a bit. Her mother actually felt it very strong, and she clung to it almost hysterically. Brooke had felt as if she couldn't breath anymore and she had to leave. Remembering that made her long to her father even more.
* * *
When Cyb came home Brooke sat on her bed watching some photo's of her father. Cyb looked at her face, she could see Brooke had cried. Still she didn't want to say anything to Brooke, even though it felt so cold. Cyb had lost her father as well, and she knew how much pain something like that could cause. "Hey, you're alright?" she asked finally. Brooke looked, not used to any contact with Cyb anymore. The only thing she could do was nodding. She was far too sad to be mad with Cyb. After a moment consideration Cyb started talking. "It's hard isn't it? It sucks, losing your father. I know how it feels, I lost him too, 3 years ago now." Cyb studied Brooke carefully, she tried to find out what Brooke was thinking. Cyb didn't feel like having another preach from Brooke and she didn't want to fight neither. Brooke was collecting some courage to speak, breathing deeply. Cyb watched, waited for what was coming. Brooke had finally the courage and she lifted her face, her eyes meeting Cyb's, she opened her mouth to speak.
I wrote this years ago, or actualy about one year after my dad died. A lot of it is still true. I never finished that story though. Right now, I don't want to finish it. Maybe one day I will.
Looking back, I realized, a lot of my life the past 10 years, I lived online. That was pretty much where it started. This is still wear I live and wear I love. I need a daddy t-shirt.
www.blendapparel.com
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