Title:           Hope - Buffet.
Author:          morning
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/MFcUwZ40
First Edit:      Monday 19th of August 2013 01:29:06 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Monday 19th of August 2013 01:29:06 PM CDT

>"Daaaadddd... My tummy's sore!"
>Her hot breath is damp in your ear, and her sweaty hair drapes onto your shoulders.
"Well you shouldn't have taken it as so much of a challenge then, should you Hope?"
>"But the sign said all-you-could-eat, so I ate all I could eat! Why does is hurt so much?"
>You do a little jump, hoisting her higher up your back, and get a firmer grip of her thighs.
"Because you pigged out. I honestly had no idea you could eat that much!"
>Behind you, Marisa chuckles.
>"Oh, believe me Anon, Lyra was the same at her age. I don't know how she managed to stay so skinny, but by Celestia, she could certainly pack it away!"
>You try not to sigh at Marisa mentioning her daughter's, your ex-wife's, name.
>It's been a few years, but the wound still hurts.
>"I think I'm gonna be sick dad!"
"Hope! If you're sick, you're cleaning it up yourself! And Luna help you if you're sick in my hair!"
>Marisa laughs again.
>"Don't be silly Anon, p0nies need to be really ill before they can vomit, surel-"
>She's cut off by Hope vomiting down your shirt.
>It's oily and greasy, and there are still lumps of unchewed pizza in it.
>"S...Sorry dad, I couldn't help it, you're rocking and swayi- BLURRRGHH"
>This one spatters inside your collar.
>It's still undigested.
>And warm.
>Well that's this shirt ruined.
"At least we're still outside. C'mon, let's get you back home kiddo."
>By the time you've got her tucked into bed, a large glass of water on her nightstand and a bright red bucket nestled next to her; the stink has settled in.
>Heading back through to the kitchen, Marisa favours you with a warm grin over the rim of her tea-cup.
"Thanks, for tonight. It means a lot to Hope, to both of us, that you came out."
>"It was the least I could do for my first granddaughter."
>You strip your shirt off, dumping it into the bin.
>There really was no saving it.
>"And don't worry, I'm sure Lyra will have come around by next year."
>You shrug.
 
>Honestly, you don't care.
"I'd love to chat, but do you mind if I go shower? I want to scrub this off before it sets."
>Marisa nods, eyes saddened as you ignore her last statement.
>She still hopes for Lyra to come back one day.
>"I'll see myself out. Give Hope my love."
>You nod, and smile at her.
>For all her faults, and for being related to Lyra, Marisa was truly an angel.
>You pad through, heading towards the bathroom.
>Stopping to check back in on your daughter, you open her door, and peek in.
>She's sleeping deeply, so you can step in, and press a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"Happy tenth birthday sweetie."
>Your wife may have left you, but you still have your daughter.
>And sometimes, Hope's all you need.