48 Hours To Make You Love Me

The Twenty-Fifth Hour

Prompt: Sentimental Gifts

Adrien sat at a table as Gramps made his way to the bar to get them a couple of drinks. Even after Adrien had argued that he would like to get the older man one as a thank you for the clothing, it seemed the guy wouldn't take no for an answer. He couldn't help but study the man who'd taken him under his wing, it seemed the guy was still in amazing shape for his age, and even though Adrien knew both him and his wife to be in their early 80's, there was a chance the two could past for mid 60's (if you disregarded their appearance).

Even though they both looked like the most caring grandparents in the world — complete with the shrinking appearance of Granny — Adrien was almost certain they could beat the normal athletic twenty something year old in a race. There was nothing to either of them, just muscular athletic frames. His mind began to fuzz as a possibility tried to push in. Placing a hand to his head, he looked down at the table to steady himself, what was it with these two?

"You okay, kid?" The phrasing was so similar, but once again a bolt of electricity shot through his cortex causing him to wince and backtrack from the thought.

"Yeah," Adrien replied with a hiss, "just some sort of weird headache."

"Drink this." He placed a tumbler down in front of him that contained a small amount of golden liquid. "It'll put some hairs on your chest."

As Gramps took a swig of his own, Adrien picked up the tumbler and gave it a swirl, studying the thickness of the liquid as it moved in a cyclone in the glass. Placing it under his nose he took a rather deep sniff, the smell of the liquid burning through his nose, down into his throat.

"Woah," he gasped, moving the tumbler back to the table only to be met by the chortling laughter of his drinking partner. "How can you drink that?"

Gramps took another sip before placing it back on the coaster. "It's quite the saviour when you have four children and ten grandchildren. The great grandkids are starting to pop out now too."

"If you don't mind me asking, how old are you both?" Adrien queried, picking up the glass once more and placing it to his lips. A tiny drip of whisky hit his tongue and, if he was being honest, it didn't taste too badly at all. It was oddly warming and homely,

"Good isn't it?" Gramps said, sitting back in his seat and studying Adrien. "And to answer your question, I'm 83 and M'L— M'wife is 82."

"Oh woah," Adrien said shocked, "you both seem younger."

"Even though we don't look it?" Gramps laughed, his eyes twinkling with an unknown youth.

"I wasn't — I didn't —" Feeling uncomfortable, Adrien grabbed the tumbler and took another large gulp. His face wincing as the liquid burned moving down his throat. As Adrien coughed, Gramps laughed again, the man was obviously a very joyful fellow, and Adrien couldn't help but wonder if he'd always had such a sunny disposition.

"It's okay, we're both very lucky. I may be 83 but I don't feel a day over 50... well some days it's 60, but don't tell Granny. She likes to think she's fitter than me."

Adrien snorted, imagining the arguments between them about who could bench press the most, and most likely the tournament to prove it.

"So you have a big family? What's that like?" Adrien placed his elbows on the table, linking his fingers and setting them under his chin as he moved forward in curiosity.

Adrien had always dreamed of a big family, one he could share with Marinette and enjoy the laughter that filled a warm, loving home. He'd always lived in a house which he considered too big; the size separating the family too much and instead of bringing them together, it tore them apart.