Paint On His Face

She was wearing a small blue shirt and a joggers pants with a towel around her neck. She was sweaty and looking all exhausted like someone who couldn’t wait to slump on her bed. Her long hair was tied in a tight ponytail and she was still without makeup as it was morning and her pouch, white and natural skin glowed through the window in the morning.

Marcel glanced at her and saw how she dressed. It was like the Izabelle who just entered the room then was the Izabelle from years back when she was still seventeen. It was like being transported back to the past and she was just coming in after a rough morning jug. It was like time didn't change her at all and she was still the same person from years back.

Carefree and naive.

He was stunned for a moment but said nothing. Just as he took a step to move to the bathroom, the little child pulled at his hands and climbed off the bed to wrap herself around him tightly and begged.

“Daddy don't go.”

Marcel staring at the child’s face didn't kn