Warning: Major Character Death

"Dad, wake up."

"…"

"Dad."

"What time is it?"

"Six thirty-three. You're supposed to wake up three minutes ago."

"… Right."

"So wake up now. … Please."

Ludwig Beilschmidt opened his pale blue eyes to an auburn-haired little girl with stern look on her face. The girl was clearly scowling at him for waking up late and Ludwig couldn't help but to muster a smile before patting the younger female gently on the head.

"Good morning, Ilaria."

"Good morning, Dad."

Ludwig was enjoying the moment as Ilaria's lips twitching. The German knew she was about to smile, but then her eyes—her strange, beautiful eyes, sky-blue on right and amber-coloured on left—glanced to the clock and the lips twitch into a pout instead.

"You have exactly fifteen minutes to prepare breakfast for both of us, ten to clean, twenty to bring me to school, and five to tell me to be a good girl before leave for work," she said in one breath. "So stop with the head patting now, even though I don't dislike it." Her already furrowed brows still furrows even more. "Please," the little girl hastily added.

Ludwig chuckled and hoisted himself up.

"You are my daughter, after all," the older male's smile bloomed as he stood and looked down towards Ilaria Beilschmidt.

Less than twenty-five minutes later, Ludwig straightened his dark tie and took one last glance to his bedroom. Satisfied at how organised and clean the place was, the tall male left the room to Ilaria. The girl wore some serious-looking clothing that if she was ten years older, she could enter a job interview with no problem. Ludwig had attempted to buy her something cuter, something more suitable for eight years old, but Ilaria loved her tiny tie and slick white dress shirt.

The Beilschmidts walked together towards the entrance door and stopped automatically before a cabinet with flowers and photograph on its top.

"We're leaving, Mum."

"We're leaving, Feliciana."

The auburn-haired woman's smile in photograph seemed to be frozen within time, but even now, Ludwig could still see it bloom in motion. He could spend a whole minute there alone, if only Ilaria didn't tug his pants and raised her eyebrows in a very unlike eight years old like at his father.

"Okay, okay, we're leaving."

The door was closed to silence on the Beilschmidt's residence.

At dinner on the same day, Ilaria voiced her critic again for Ludwig's choice to cook spaghetti.

"It's been three days in a row," the girl grunted. "Beside, spaghetti is very high in carbohydrate, Dad. If you keep eating them, you won't be able to keep up those muscles of yours and you know that! As much as I find it annoying that all my straight female teachers are drooling over you whenever there's parent meeting, I think you want to stay healthy and attractive in case you're planning to give me a new mother."

Ludwig could only laugh at Ilaria's words. She was twice as serious as he was and she wasn't even ten.

"I appreciate your input, Ilaria," the blond smiled before eating his spaghetti.

Ilaria frowned, "You're not taking it seriously, though. Is it because I'm eight? I'm going to be nine in five months anyway… five months and twenty two days to be exact."

"Of course I'm taking you seriously…"

"Not for everything I said. You never seem to care about dating again. You're still young enough to date, you know," the little girl shrugged.

"I know, Ilaria," Ludwig responded, staring dearly at the still pouting girl.

"Are you scared that I might not like someone new in our house? If so, then let me tell you that I actually would like that very much. Adaptation is one of a very valuable skill I'd like to improve," Ilaria stabbed her plate of spaghetti with her fork as she spoke. "Beside…" she looked up at his father, blue and yellow eyes glimmered in worry, "Don't you get lonely, Dad?"

Ludwig only laughed, effortlessly, truthfully.

"I don't get lonely, Ilaria. I just don't."

After tucking Ilaria to bed and read her bedtime stories on great woman of 20th century, Ludwig returned to his bedroom for resting as well. Usually, the blue-eyed male would sleep right away after lying down, but that night was a little different.

It had been sometime since Ilaria brought the topic of him dating someone else. But it was the first time she asked about whether her father was lonely.

And it was true when Ludwig said he wasn't lonely.

The blond reached for his phone on the bedside, swiped it open, and went to certain folder on photo album.

Feliciana Vargas smiled to Ludwig from the small, bright screen.

It had been seven years since her death and he missed her every time. Since then, Ludwig considered himself to always be post-love. He missed her but he had Ilaria to look after, to look forward to for his daughter still had future he needed to take care about.

Ludwig exited the folder and closed his eyes, talking to his wife in heaven.

Dear Feliciana,

Ilaria talked me into dating again. Do you remember when I told you that she was actually planning to hit on woman for me? Sometimes I feel like your blood is quite strong on her, though I know that overall she was very much like me in seriousness.

She still wants to be an engineer and an artist. I know none of any other eight years old who planned to be some kind of Theo Jansen, but I think she will be splendid engineer and artist if she wanted to. I think she handled machinery better than me when I met you, but she made splendid sketch and painting too. Sometimes I can see the line you made on her drawing. Sometimes I miss you terribly that I can't help but crying.

But please don't worry about Ilaria or me. We're doing very well considering our circumstances. Please keep watching over us.

And, perhaps, please make Ilaria appreciate pasta more. It's honestly one of the thing that can keep me going since I'm very far away from you.

With all love,

Your husband.

Author's Note: This plot bunny suddenly popped up because I have job to do (haven't we all experienced this?) and it won't go away until I wrote it down. I'm sorry if it's not very good, but I hope I can convey the bitter-sweet feeling I got from writing this.

For the lack of knowing better artist, I picked Theo Jansen with his Strandbeest because that's the closest thing I can remember on art and engineering. I'm sorry if there's better artist on such subjects.

I really enjoyed writing Ilaria so I hope you enjoy reading about her as well. In case you're wondering, Ilaria is feminine name with English equivalent of Hilary. I tried to find name as close as possible to the word "Italy", "Italia", or "Italien", so that's what I came up with.

Thank you for reading this work.