DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN MARVEL OR THE MCU, BECAUSE IF I DO, EVERYTHING IN THIS STORY OR ALL OF MY FAVORITE FANFICTIONS/SERIES WILL HAPPEN.

CHAPTER I: THE GIRL WITH HER MOTHER'S SEA GREEN EYES

I've been so many places

In my life and time

I've sung a lot of songs

I've made some bad rhymes

I've acted out my life on stages

With 10,000 people watching*

A man's voice, singing, filled his entire apartment, but it wasn't the reason why his heart was beating faster, louder than usual. It was the woman in front of him, the owner of the green eyes staring back at him. It was so loud, he thought that she could hear it herself. She was leading him to a dance, accompanied by the song playing on loop. He forgot how they even ended up dancing after their confrontation.

She gave him a small smile, which made her even lovelier than she already was. She was beautiful and it hurt him. He told her that before but she laughed bitterly, as if mocking him for the compliment. He didn't get mad at her, instead grew more concerned for her lack of faith to herself even he was completely aware that she didn't need and want to be pitied. He couldn't say that again to her at that moment because he knew she would doubt that again.

He would never be with her because she was stubborn. She had insisted a long time ago that the world wouldn't understand. The same world she once told him that she didn't have a place into. He tried to get her words into his thick skull but he couldn't. He didn't stop loving her because he was as stubborn as she was. The realization led him to think that they weren't as different with each other as she or he had acknowledged before.

If only he could stay with her like this forever, he would do anything. Yet he knew to himself that it was a lie because he would choose others first before her. He would always choose others first before himself.

He believed that very moment was the only chance he had before she slip away like she always does. She was like the wind, running swiftly in circles that even with all his strength, he couldn't catch up on her, unless she would let him.

Make everything right.

Make everything right.

But what was the right thing to do?

There he was, lying on the couch.

Daphne looked at Daniel's, her father, sleeping form. Their beige-colored couch was being occupied by his huge frame. His whole left arm was on the floor while his feet were hanging from one of the arms of the couch. It was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. She decided to brush the negative one off because it wasn't healthy for the both of them.

He had left the television on which made Daphne to abandon what she was doing to turn it off. She was washing the dishes at that time. She left the kitchen, her dad's favorite place in their two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. They had just finished a wonderful dinner, courtesy of Daniel (yeah, he's a great cook). She tiptoed her way to their living room, which design looked like an amalgamation of a modern bachelor style and a 40's-inspired one. She still have no idea of her father's liking of that era.

She turned off the television and took the chance to look at her father closely. Her green orbs scanned his whole body to make sure he was still breathing because the sight was unbelievably odd, despite of it looking absolutely beautiful. She smiled to herself because he never slept like that for months. He was always talking gibberish, sometimes, screaming on his sleep. But it was different at that moment, he was peaceful and smiling.

She examined the black circles on his eyes and then noticed his beard was starting to grow again. And it was blonde. He was brunette. He was always joking that he just dyed it blonde every time she pointed it out in the past. It dawned to her that he was seriously joking. And he lied (not actually lied because he never denied or confirmed anything) about being born brunette. Let it slide, she thought, at least that means you got it from him. She decided not ever tell him that she would never believe the whole 'brunette thing' again.

She walked out from the living room to go to his room. His musk was all over the place as soon as she opened the door, a smell she had known since childhood. It was masculine yet sweet, comforting. Familiar. It had been months since the last time she ever set a foot on the navy blue-colored carpet of his room. Her eyes examined the whole room, as if she memorizing every single detail of it, and found that it hadn't changed at all.

She rummaged through his drawers and brought out the gray-colored blanket she gave him on Christmas Eve last year. She tried to pretend that she had no idea why she felt sudden cold but she got tired of lying to herself. She remembered all the Christmas spent with Daniel. She knew that he wasn't that happy because she was missing. She suddenly close her eyes to calm herself and opened it to give the room one last look before going back to her dad.

The chill brought goose bumps all over her petite form. Daphne draped the blanket over his body because it was cold in the living room. She didn't have the heart to wake him up so he could move to his own bed. She didn't want to disturb him. He deserved to rest and a 7 or more hours was something he earned for being a great father.

Daniel G. Rogers was the best dad in the whole wide world and she wasn't exaggerating or something. It was the truth. It was amazing for a young-looking single parent to raise his teenage daughter to this cruel and unfair world. He was the epitome of kindness and love. There was never a time that she heard him hate someone. And most of all, he loves her. She knew to herself that he loves her way more than she loves him. He was totally deserving of a 'Dad of the Century' award.

"Good night, Dad," she whispered and dropped on her knees in order to kiss his forehead. She was tempted to stay on his side but decided to go against it, to give him time for himself.

It was the fourth time he wouldn't tuck her into sleep. Even at her age of 15 and her huge disapproval matched with an eye roll (but secretly longed for it when he didn't for the first time), Daniel kept insisting to do it. And the thought made Daphne miss the nights he would always tell her stories every time she asked for one, 6 years ago, if she remembered precisely. Not that she would admit it out loud or in front of his face.

After finishing the dishes, Daphne went straight to her own room. She yawned the moment she caught a glimpse of her twin-size bed. She was sleepy since school that morning but couldn't afford to even take a short nap because of her demanding project in Lit. Class, headed by Mrs. Phillips, their Asian teacher who looked like someone capable of kicking butts but took teaching instead. She and the rest of the students in the class were to read the book assigned to them and to make a report about it. She got George Orwell's 1984.

She looked at the alarm clock sitting on the table near the left side of her bed. 8:13 P.M. Dad must be pretty exhausted from work to snooze early and peacefully, she had thought. She gathered her waist-length locks to a bun and made her way to the bathroom (the one inside her room) to wash her face and brush her teeth. It took her more than 10 minutes to realize that she was staring at her reflection in the mirror.

Blonde hair. Green eyes. Now that she was convinced that she got her blonde hair from Daniel, she started to wonder again where she got her green eyes. Her dad's were as blue as the sky, definitely, not from him. Maybe from her grandparents. She didn't get the chance to see and meet them personally and never would be because they were already dead even before she was born. But there was still a possibility- of getting her green eyes from either of them.

Sea green eyes. Or maybe she got it from- No, it's not impossible that I got this from her, she told herself, frowning at her reflection as if she was insane of even thinking about it. Thinking about her, of that woman, she corrected herself. She called her that on her mind because the last time she said it out loud, Daniel raised his voice at her.

She haven't met her mo-that woman-and she never really wanted to anyway, something she kept telling herself as she grew up. She hated the woman, not for abandoning her but for leaving her dad. But her dad never hated her, which confused and hurt Daphne sometimes. It was clear that he was still madly and naively in love with her.

It was obvious, that Daniel still had feelings for her mother. Even after the thing she had done to him, his eyes still lighten up every time he would bring out stories about her, either something Daphne would pretend to listen to or would cut off before it even begin. She didn't get the way her dad loves someone who left him and his hobby of making sure his daughter knows some little things about her mother, except her name. She didn't know why he never revealed her name, not like she cared or something. She didn't want to do anything about her. Or even know her. She didn't have the need to feel her presence in her life.

She never thought of them-her parents-getting back together. She never fancied of being a complete family. As long as she knew that her dad would be at her side, I'll be happy. I'll be safe. I'll be loved, she thought. She grew up fine without her and she could go on with her life without her, too. She had no problem with the idea of only knowing her dad her whole life.

But the problem with Daphne was, she thought, she never wanted to meet 'that woman' when she was clearly thinking about her more than she should. And it took an eye color to lose herself again.

*A Song for You by Donny Hathaway (great song)

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THANK YOU FOR READING MY FIRST FANFICTION. COMMENTS ARE WELCOME.