"We shouldn't really...it's wrong" he said quietly, she nodded slowly "very wrong" she replied - but his lips were on hers and it seemed they would never disconnect.
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Isabelle had prayed for a white Christmas, she wanted Daisy's first to be the best ever. She wanted it to be perfect. Maybe she shouldn't have put her expectations so high.
"And the car driver the fastest in the world mama-"
"Mines faster!" Jamie corrected while driving his new car along the seem of the couch before knocking it into his little cousin's chair on the floor and pretending to blow it up with a bang. Daisy laughed loudly and the boy smiled proudly back at her, "Was that funny Daisy doodles!?" he asked tickling her belly, "Was it?"
"She's dressed like santa's elf?" Alfie asked his santa softly and Isabelle smiled lifting her daughter from her place on the floor and sitting her up against the couch, "Santa's favourite elf aren't you muffin?" the girl swung her hands as she played with a rattle her aunt had gifted her- or santa.
Isabelle was a nervous wreck, she hid it well with her smiles and her baking of christmas tree shaped cookies, but she had phoned Linda and asked if she would invite George down for Christmas. She hadn't done it herself, she couldn't speak to him.
She just wanted him to come and see his daughter, then leave, kindly, stay in a hotel, maybe even visit his mum God knows it would do him some good. Pent up in London, acting like he was better than Liverpool? The quarrymen wouldn't do such a thing.
But they weren't the same as they were in their teenage years and Isabelle knew she had to let those thoughts go.
The door bell wrung around half past twelve, Isabelle placed her daughter in her bouncer again before walking towards the door, on arrival she noticed Ivan already stood- his arms crossed in a protective stance. The door was ajar slightly and to Isabelle's surprise George looked just as bad as she did.
𖣘
George tuned Ivan out, because there she stood, in all of her glory.
Little Isabelle Vaughan.
He felt like he was back in the fifties, hiding his affection towards the girl with his cold exterior.
The man smiled at the woman and she nodded back silently before pulling her brother aside to let her husband inside. George stepped inside slowly eyeing Ivan skeptically– Afraid he would have to put his arms of gifts down and fight the man like they had used to do while teaveling in Germany all those years ago.
"Ivan! Move!" Priscilla hissed, shoving her husband towards the kitchen she then turned and pointed at the man fiercely, "Hurt her and i'll deal with you me-self, nevermind my husband" she muttered, George nodded with a gulp.
