CANNONBALL ⇒ jegulus

FORTY TWO

It's been a week and Regulus finds himself busying himself with readying his home for his son. His little lad is going to need somewhere to stay, somewhere to sleep in, a nice cosy crib for his sweet angel boy. Andromeda had offered to accompany him to pick out things for the nursery, Nymphadora no doubt intending on tagging along.

And this is how Regulus finds himself roaming around a local furniture shop, Nymphadora and he trailing behind an exhilarated Andy who seems to find every crib the most beautiful thing she's ever seen, until she sees another one that soon steals that title.

"What color did you pick for the walls again, Reg?" Andromeda hums as she runs her fingers along an ivory colored crib.

"It's like a pistachio shade of green, y'know, kind of....sage?" Regulus shrugs in reply. He really had not been paying that much attention when he chose the color. Regulus had wanted green because, personally, he loves green, ergo; he feels that green will be best suited to his son.

Regulus truly wants this to be something beautiful.

Something to distract him.

Andromeda hums once more, scrunching up her nose before shaking her head. "Well then, this crib simply won't do!" She declares.

Regulus and Nymphadora share a look, the young girl giggling as Regulus scrunches his nose.

"You're a hard woman to please, Dromeda," Regulus tells her gently.

Nymphadora sniggers softly. "Can I have a go picking out a crib?" She pleads. "C'mon, mum, stop being bossy and let us have a say. I'll pick a good one! Promise!" She swears.

Regulus chuckles. He ruffles her hair. "Go ahead, I'm not going to be too picky. I don't actually have much time left to get this organized, I guess,"

Regulus feels frustrated that he didn't prepare himself for this sooner. His baby boy is going to be here soon, really soon, and he hasn't even got a name, let alone a bedroom. He supposes he ought to get around to naming sprog.

Sprog. And there Regulus is thinking of his child's father once again.

Yanking him from his thought with a quick, excited yelp, Regulus is entirely grateful for little Nymphadora. "Oh! Look at this one! Mum, Reggie, look," She calls.

Regulus glances in the direction of the young girl's voice to see her proudly, almost smugly, standing beside a crib with a smirk lacing her angelic little face and her arms crossed contently.

Beside her stands a large oak crib with rather intricate engravements upon the side. Regulus takes a step closer, reaching a hand out to gently touch the wood. It feels antique, vintage, well loved.

Regulus can not help the small smile that is spreading along his face as his finger tips dance against the wood. He grins. "You really did find a good one, Nymph," He tells the young girl. "This one....it's so beautiful," He breaths.

"And look!" Nymphadora cries. "Matching rocking chair!" She beams.

Regulus smiles. "Oh, wow," He says softly as he takes in the identical hair, carvings decorating the chair. A small white tag catches Regulus' eyes. He sighs softly, backing away from the chair ever so slightly. "Shit, that's quite a bit of money," He mumbles. "I...I could never afford to spend that much on a crib,"

Nymphadora frowns. "But....but it's so nice and I think the baby would really like it," She tries to prompt.

Regulus smiles sadly at her, shaking his head. "I know, love, I think he would too. But sometimes we have to prioritize, eh?"