Candlelight
He had but a single regret.
The regret was a person; a little girl, old enough to know but not yet mature enough to understand why. He sighed, and saw his daughter, a pretty little child, with her features so fine, fallen asleep awkwardly with a book still clutched in her hand. The candle by her bed burned long after the user had rested, its soft light bringing out the scant traces of gold in the girl's hair. She seemed as lovely but as fragile as a porcelain doll.
This was something he had to do but still it scarred so deeply. To leave his young child so alone, he could never forgive himself for. But would she ever, in turn, forgive him?
He tried to imagine the child as a young woman, living life without him. Living life, with perhaps only vague images of her father. What would she think of him, the good and the bad all mixed in together? Which side of him would she choose to believe in?
Slowly, haltingly, he edged the book away from her grasp and laid it on her nightstand. He tucked the covers around the sleeping child, so gentle that she didn't stir in her slumber. He touched her hair and remembered how it felt to hold her close. Her soft, silky locks shined with the same beauty as her mother's.
His wife would never understand why this was something he must do. Not for anyone, but more for himself. And in a strange way, for everyone.
One day, when she was grown, maybe she would look into the blue skies and wonder. Maybe she would see him in her memory palace, her father whom she had once admired. Perhaps, then she would see, why.
He forced himself to turn away from the child and took his leave. Forever.
A/N: A one-shot, the first one I've done that's so vague. I didn't use any names for the characters so it could be anyone. You choose who and tell me in a review!
Ta-ta,
Lily