“Mmph.”

“Mmmmph.”

“Mmmmmmmm—”

Thoughts groggy. Mind muddled. Everything was dark, and as you whined, you searched for him. Reaching out a hand and scanning all over the covers. Pillow, bedsheets.

When you realized that what you were looking for was not actually there, that's when you awoke.

Rubbing your eyes sleepily, you your side.

Where was Daddy?

You stared longingly at the empty side of the bed, wondering where in the world he could have possibly gone. Snuggled in your huge covers, you had only your assortment of stuffies to accompany you.

The longer you gazed at the empty bed, the more unsettled you felt. Something was off. It was an unease in your heart, an ache for something that was not in sight.

Eyes finally adjusted to the darkness of the room, you flipped over onto your belly and reached for your phone.

You pulled the covers up to your chin in hopes of filling the odd sensation inside of you. Miss Piggy next to you, and then Alexander the Tabby on the other side. Without Daddy here to help you, you felt a sense of loneliness when you had to reach over and slip your paci into your mouth by yourself.

Determined to find out the whereabouts of your caregiver, you unlocked your phone.

The harsh flow hurt your eyes, and you winced.

You opened up the messenger app and typed out a quick text to Daddy.

To: Daddy ❤️

Daddy, where are you??

And then you waited.

And waited.

Then waited some more.

Not only were you growing impatient, but you were also on the verge of something else. What that something was, you couldn't place it. All you knew was that you needed Daddy and you needed him now.

Five minutes went by without a single response back.

After unlocking and then locking your phone for perhaps the twentieth time, you were tempted toss it across the bed. Daddy wasn't usually like this! Daddy always texted back, no matter what. And always within one or two minutes, too.

That sinking feeling in your chest only grew heavier.

So you picked up your phone yet, this time tapping the app for calling. You quickly, hastily, as-fast-as-you-could-ly, called Daddy. The ringing started.

And so you waited.

And waited.

And then waited some more.

“Hi, you've reached Kim Taehyung! Sorry I can't come to the phone right now. Leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!”

You threw down your phone, crossed your arms across your chest, and pouted.

A sour taste in your mouth and a panging in your chest, you just couldn't settle yourself down, no matter what.

It wouldn't hurt to call him again, would it?

And so you did.

The incessant dial tone frustrated you to a point with no end. You silently kept hope, praying that at any moment, any second now, Daddy would pick up the phone. You would hear the sound of his deep, comforting voice, and he would whisper sweet nothings to you and you would finally—finally—be at peace.

“Hi, you reached Kim Taehy—”

Frantically, you ended the call and plopped yourself back into the covers.

You hugged Miss Piggy tight and prayed that nothing that bad had happened to Daddy.

There it was again, that utterly mind grueling impatience. Frustration, pushed to the max. You were tired and you were still grumpy from your nap and you, you want nothing more than—

Clink clink.

Hearing the sound of the keys in the door, you peeked up. Was that Daddy? It had to be, right?

Or it could just be the maid, you reminded yourself in the back of your mind.

With a loud groan, you flopped back down again.

Opting to ignore the pining that filled every cell of your body, you could only shut you eyes tightly and pray. Pray that it was not the cleaning lady. Pray that it was Daddy.

And so you waited.

And waited.

And then waited some more.

But then—

“Baby?”

There was a soft knocking on the door to the master bedroom, the sound of your endearment being tentatively called out.

“Baby, are you still asleep?”

You flung the covers off and cried.

“Daddy!”

In a matter of two nanoseconds, Taehyung had burst into the room and swept you up in his arms. His hands were everywhere: under your arms, over your hair, rubbing your bottom. His lips never left your skin for a second, pecks and nips and flurries of kisses all being bombarded onto your cheeks and forehead and lips.

“Baby? Baby, what’s wrong? Why is my baby crying?”

Daddy was right—you were crying.

And then you realized why.

“Baby wanted cuddles,” you mumbled into Daddy’s chest, pressing against him as close as possible. You could tell now—the moment you felt his touch, that unsettled feeling was gone. You missed him. You had more than missed him. And now that he was finally here, you no longer felt like screaming around the house and banging your fists on the walls in the likes of a temper tantrum.  

Instead, your breathing calmed down. That itchy feeling from before was gone as well, all replaced with the soothing scent of Daddy’s warm auburn vanilla.

“Oh,” Taehyung tsked. “Daddy’s sorry he couldn’t be there when Baby woke up. Daddy had to step out for a minute.”

“Grownup stuff?”

“Yes, my angel. Grownup stuff. You know how those meetings go—no texts, no calls.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You nuzzled yourself to his embrace, a fistful of the fabric of his shirt in your hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, baby. It was Daddy’s fault. I should have told you about the meeting beforehand.”

He kissed you firmly on the lips, his hands skimming down your legs so they could wrap around his waist. He pressed you against him, playing with your hair, cradling your cheeks.

“You don’t need to worry anymore, angel.”

A peck pressed to the top of your forehead. And this time, you squealed with giddiness.

“It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s got you now.”