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Yessssss! It's finally finished! What is finished, you ask? My ficlet for the [livejournal.com profile] all_unwritten  prompt: she has your eyes. I can finally post it. I'm so excited. So here it is!!!! ENJOY!



Prompt 404: she has your eyes

I sit on a park bench watching my four year old daughter run around on the playground. I smile to myself as she meets another little girl at the slide, huge grins coming over their faces as they realize they're school friends.

"Mommy, look! Elaina's here!" she calls to me.

"Awesome!" I reply giving the girls a wave. They wave back then go back to playing.

A shadow falls over me. Just from the size and shape of it I can tell it's him; my daughter's father. It's been over four years since we've seen each other, since before Laila was born. We had a falling out, I guess you'd call it, when I found out I was pregnant and didn't know who the father was. But four years later it's crystal clear who fathered my gorgeous baby.

To make a complicated story short, at the time I was dating Zac's brother. One random night we were all together. The boys were snorting coke and I was drinking heavily. One thing led to another and we all ended up naked and having sex. When I found out when I had likely conceived, I was devastated. Was this baby my boyfriend's or his brother's? But like I said earlier, I've now got my answer.

After a moment of silence I say,

"She has your eyes." Zac walks around the bench to sit beside me. He leans back and stretches his arms over the back of the bench.

"Does she?" he asks looking out over the playground to catch sight of our daughter.

"Yeah," I answer, watching him from the corner of my eye.

There's a beat of silence.

"Are you sure about this?" Zac asks.

"Sure about what? You coming here?" There are so many things he could be talking about under the circumstances.

"About her being mine," he clarifies. "Are you sure?" I fix my eyes on the blond preschooler climbing the jungle-gym with her friend.

"Couldn't be more sure," I answer quietly.

"Why? Because she has my eyes?"

My head whips around to face Zac at the hint of spite in his voice.

"Why are you so angry?" I ask. "I'm the one who was abandoned. My daughter was abandoned."

"If you had kept your legs closed, we wouldn't be having this problem," he growls.

I grit my teeth, thankful for the sunglasses perched on my nose as tears flood my eyes.

"Don't blame this on me," I hiss. "We were all in the wrong that night and you know it."

"Still doesn't mean she's mine," he says coolly.

"You want proof?!" I exclaim, trying to keep my voice low. "Here's your fucking proof!" I throw a piece of paper at him that I had retrieved from my bag and cross my arms over my chest.

Zac is silent as he looks over the official document.

"What's this?" he asks softly. I brush at the tears on my face and answer,

"The results of a paternity test I had done."

"Taylor... Taylor never told me about this," he says. "Why wouldn't he tell me?"

"Because he didn't know," I reply. "Look at the date, Zac." He scans the paper looking for the date and when he finds it, his jaw drops.

"You had a DNA test done when he died?!"

"Your mother called me the night of the accident," I say calmly. "She told me he was brain dead and they were taking him off life support." I turn to Zac then. "She asked me to do the test. She wanted to know so badly. So I agreed."

"It still doesn't mean she's mine," Zac replies.

"Check the second page."

Zac flips to page two and his jaw practically unhinges.

"You had my DNA tested?!" he exclaims.

"Your mom wanted to be sure," I tell him with a shrug.

Zac leans back in his seat, running his fingers through his thick hair. He's just staring straight ahead. The silence between us seems endless. But then he speaks.

"She has my eyes?"

I nod.

"Big, playful, mischievous brown eyes. Just like her daddy." Zac runs his hand through his hair and turns to me, sliding his sunglasses up on his head. There isn't any anger in his eyes; the ones that have always spoken volumes about his emotions. There's only sadness.

He reaches over and pushes my glasses onto my head, mimicking his. His fingers slide over my cheek as he pulls his hand away, making a tear trail down my face.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"For what?" I ask wiping at my face.

"Everything," he answers. "Everything I've said to you and about you. For not being here the past four years." He shrugs.

"It's both our faults," I tell him. "Don't be sorry. Just be here."

Zac licks his lips.

"Do you want me to be here?" he asks. I look over at our daughter playing on the swings.

"It doesn't matter what I want," I say softly. "She's all that matters; her happiness." I shrug. "She wants you, Zac, so I want her to have you." Then I look at him. "What do you want?"

"I want to get to know my daughter," the drummer answers. "I want to be a part of her life. I want her to know who she got her big brown eyes from."

"Then be here," I tell him. "Don't do it half-assed. Because I'll tell you right now: if you break her heart, I'll break every bone in your body, so help me God."

"I don't plan on breaking her heart," Zac whispers.

"No one plans on it," I reply, "it just happens."

There's a moment of silence that's broken by Laila running over to us.

"Mommy, can you tie my shoe?" she asks, putting her foot up on the bench beside me. I smile.

"Sure, baby." As I tie her laces, she smiles at Zac.

"Hi," she says brightly.

"Hi," Zac replies. I finish tying Laila's shoe laces saying,

"All set, babe."

"Thank you!" Laila shouts over her shoulder as she runs back over to her friend.

I give Zac a side-long look. He's watching our daughter run around in the grass, playing tag with Elaina. There's a moment of silence before he rips his gaze away from our little girl to look at me. His coffee-colored eyes show such tenderness and love. Then he whispers,

"She has my eyes."

[the][end]


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