~Close your eyes and picture the warmth of the sun on your skin... that's how being loved by her felt~
Harry Styles is a nepotism baby turned new father, left clueless with a newborn baby to raise, he is overwhelmed and under pressure. Matters are...
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"Coffee and ice cream."
A black tray gets slid onto the end of the table as Sunday uses her hip to prop it up while retrieving the mug of freshly brewed black coffee (that will taste like shit) and the two small bowls of ice cream that I ordered for the girls.
"Thank you, mommy!" Nola cheers, helping herself to a spoon off of the tray.
Turning back to me with ever so slightly narrowed eyes, Sunday grimaces. "You're cleaning it up if one of them throws up later."
"Yes Ma'am!" I mock salute, chuckling to myself when she tucks the tray back under her arm and wanders off to the back once again.
She told me that her break was soon and so I was holding off really drinking the rancid cup of coffee until she could sit with us all. However, the twins had other ideas because soon they were digging their spoons into the mound of ice cream and shovelling some into their mouths.
"Mosi have a bit?" Nola whispers, trying to lift her spoon up to Amos.
As cute as this is, the boy can't even have cow's milk yet, let alone ice cream.
Looking down at him on the table with my hands cradling the warm mug, I swiftly shake my head and purse my lips. "He's actually snoozing at the minute, why don't we try again a little bit later?"
She nods, putting her filled spoon in her mouth with chocolate sauce smeared around the edge of her lips. Then she holds up two fingers like a peace sign. "In two?"
"Yeah." I agree, knowing damn well it will be longer than two minutes.
Not even five minutes later, a very stressed blonde blur flies past my side with one glass of water in her hand and a small white plate with a muffin sitting on top of it in the other. Sunday takes a seat beside Nola, directly opposite me.
"Okay, I have a thirty minute lunch break and then another hour and a half before my shift ends."
"You look knackered, Sunday. Are you okay?"
When I look across at her now, I can see just how dark the bags under her eyes are and how sunken the blue of her pupils seems now. There is a drained, deathlike pallor to her skin. She is as pale as ever, hollowed cheeks which make her look like she hasn't eaten in weeks.
Overall, Sunday looks like she has been through the ringer.
"Fine. Just tired."
I nod, pressing my lips into a flat line. I'm tired too, I haven't slept since Sunday text me shortly after Amos woke up for a bottle.
"You look tired too." She hums, wrapping her pink lips around the rim of the glass.
"I am." I confirm in a murmur. "Barely slept and then I had a client this morning but this little angel cried the entire appointment. I thought blood would start pouring out of my ears at how high pitched it was."
