"Can you pick ya shit up?"

He scoffed,

nudging your pens to the side with his shoe,

sitting on the edge of the bed with the

first few buttons to his shirt undone,

his tattooed chest on display,

lighting up a cigarette.

"Daddy"

You breathed out,

putting them back where you liked them.

"I'm colouring!

You can't kick my pens,

They're expensive"

"Yeah,

I know little girl"

He rolled his eyes,

tucking the lighter back into his pocket.

"I'm the one who bought them"

"Why are you so stressed all the time?"

You sighed softly,

trying to keep within the lines on the page.

"You're grumpy and old"

"Oh I'm grumpy and old huh?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Uh huh"

You giggled.

"How old are you daddy?

Like fifty?"

"Im forty two ya little brat.

I didn't hear you complaining last night"

"Mmm"

You moaned teasingly.

"I liked last night daddy"

"I bet ya did,

You dirty girl"

He smirked.

"Pick all this shit up alright?

I can't see the fucking carpet"

"Okay daddy"

You answered him quietly as

he kissed your cheek,

leaving you there to play whilst he

dealt with the chaos.