CANNONBALL ⇒ jegulus

FIFTY

Busying himself with writing has become more difficult with a baby latched onto his chest but Regulus manages to get by, somehow. Bowie's almost a month old and he's wriggling and moving a lot more, so this has become a lot harder than it initially had been, but Regulus doesn't mind all too much. He still gets his work done.

Bowie makes a timid noise and seems to detach himself, staring up at Regulus. Regulus gives him a soft smile. "Mmh, finished my little angel?" He asks softly.

Bowie gurgles in response. "Well, I suppose we better burp you then, eh? Don't want you getting a pain in your little belly," Regulus hums as he gently life Bowie to rest on his shoulder, reaching across to grab a towel, just in case. "Easy now, love." Regulus adds as Bowie seems to wriggle within his grip.

Bowie let's out a few small noises before he coughs a little bit. Regulus pecks his nose. "You're such a good boy, " He praises. "You're always so, so, so good for your mummy, especially when mummy is busy working," He smiles.

Bowie continues to rest in Regulus' hooked arm as Regulus continues to write. "I've had a great idea, Bow, something I think will really sell," Regulus says. "I've just got to send it off to my publisher, hopefully it'll do well,"

As he scribbles, ink blotching the pages of his journal, Regulus contemplates a couple of things. As he writes an endless abundance of words, Regulus sighs softly. "God, your daddy is such a twat," He utters. "I'm so glad you're too little to understand what a 'twat' is," Regulus pauses. "And you don't know how to pronounce it,"

Regulus exhales as he runs his pen along his blank page. This is the first time he's writing since baby Bowie was born. It has to be perfect.

Dearest baby Bowie,

I'm writing to you using your very own little name! Can you believe it? You have a name and you're here! You have your own little name, it's all yours, sweetheart.

You got here in what I can only depict as one of the scariest car journeys of my entire life, so thank you so much for that fright, the first of many frights, I suppose? How will I ever handle when you fall off a bike for the first time?

You're cuddled up in my free arm as I write this, honey. You've just been fed and I reckon you're a little milk drunk. You're wearing a little blue baby grow auntie Marlene and auntie Dorcas got for you.

You look absolutely adorable, Bowie.

Your daddy kept arguing that you look just like me, but I think his eyes tie you all together. Arguably, you do look very much like me, but I do really think you're your daddy's boy with those large honey brown eyes.