(Art by Violet Trinity)

Darkiplier's POV:

After that encounter with the young blonde girl who ran into me at the coffee shop in town. I couldn't get this burning question that was floating in my mind. 'Could it really be her?' She looked exactly like Amy, with the exception of her amber eye color.

I went home that night, trying to wrap my head around how it could be possible. Mark and Amy both died in a car crash almost eighteen years ago. Supposedly their baby was with them but the child's body was never found.

I walk into my kitchen and grab a bottle of Pinot Noir (Burgundy) wine, along with a tall, slender wine glass. I place the glass on the counter and uncork the bottle and watch the ruby liquid flow into the glass as I poured. I put away the wine and take my wine glass into the livingroom. I sit on the couch and loosen my tie and throw it over my shoulder. I just needed to relax. I take a sip of my wine and let out a tired sigh.

That girl said that she was hurring back to her "uncle" not her mother or father. Though, I can't rule out that she doesn't have them. I'd have to get to know her a little better. Not in the romantic way, just, like, as a friend or a fatherly type of way. Because if she really is the child of Mark and Amy, that would make me her uncle and that would just be wrong on so many levels.

I finish off the rest of my wine and place the empty glass on the coffee table in front of me. I stand up and stretch my tired arms and pop my neck then make my way to my room. The dark grey walls and familiar soft black carpet greeted me as I stepped inside. The neat black sheets of my King size bed wrinkle as I sit down. I take off my black overcoat and then my white shirt and throw them aside. i'll pick them up off the ground tomorrow.

As I lie down in my bed, covering myself in the silky black blankets. I begin to drift off to sleep.