chicks, pants, showing it all, dancing


See the Shadows of Innocence and Sanity

a shadow of the day

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trt, touch, about sin.
chicks, pants, showing it all, dancing
About Sin.

She wakes up to an empty bed, pillows ruffled lightly like her husband has been up for longer than he had laid his head down. She runs fingertips lightly over the wrinkled fabric, the slight swell of panic she has at the strange sense of too quiet, too alone pushing her further alert. She checks the baby monitor on the nightstand by her head, a frown creasing her forehead as the suspicion is confirmed. There are no sounds coming from the nursery.

She leaves the room then, a fuzzy blue robe (that may not belong to her as much as it really belongs to Sin and she just took it over sometime in the past few months) warding off the slight chill in the hallway separating the two bedrooms. She peeks into the room perfunctorily, knowing it is too soon for the batteries to have given out in the monitor, but needing to check all the same. Neither Sin nor their little Aniella are in the room. She closes the door against the faint yellow light of a half dozen duck-covered nightlights, and continues on in her search.

An odd flicker of voice and baby’s cry has her tiptoeing down the steps and leaning against the balustrade to watch her tesoro at his most brilliant tableau. The little one—Aniella Mattea Dougherty, barely 4 months old—is cradled against Sin’s chest, every piece of his body shielding her from the low glow of light and the faint chill of the room. He has his long arms wrapped around her and Pacie can half hear what he is singing to her as he rocks back and forth in the oversized rocking chair.

“Remember all the songs you sang for me when we went sailing on an emerald bay? And like a boat out on the ocean, I am rocking you to sleep. The waters dark and deep inside this ancient heart…” He trails off and starts humming, interspersing the lyrics with a soft tra la la of the melody. He rocks her back and forth in time with the music in his head, a half-forgotten, empty bottle shoved between his hip and the arm of the chair. Pacie rests her head in the palm of her hand as a warm glow suffuses her at the intimate portrait of father and daughter. She sighs loud enough to catch his attention as he busses the top of Aniella’s wispy dark hair. His glance flicks up at her, emotions hidden in the shadows and play of light across the room. Her heart aches a little as a slow indulgent smile spreads across his features. He stretches out a hand to her, the soft hum of the lullabye never ceasing, though it changes even as she reaches him.

Somehow, they find a way to maneuver the three of them into the spacious seat without waking their little one. He keeps them rocking together, letting their hands slide together into a loose clasp. And when they wake hours later, bodies cramped and daughter whimpering for food and more comfort, it feels a lot like everything has finally slotted into place. It feels a lot like heaven ought to feel.

and do you want to know what prompted this??
my dad was holding my niece the other day and taking a nap together. it was so cute. here let me show you it.


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