~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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"No, I love it, Mitch!" Sunday all but exclaims. "These are perfect, thank you!"
Leaning into Mitch's side, Sunday glances over his shoulder to get a glimpse of the camera display screen.
Mitch remains as impassive as ever with a stern face of hardness as his thumb taps against the camera buttons to flick through the pictures that he has just taken of Sunday and her girls.
"This one is especially cute!" Sunday compliments cheerily while pointing out a specific image that she likes.
"Thanks."
Mitch, as always, grunts out his answer which makes me snort in retaliation.
There is quite the contrast between Sunday and Mitch and right now it is as prominent as the difference between night and day.
She is like fresh morning sunlight that illuminates the horizon in a golden glow but Mitch was more like the darkest hour of the night. That witching hour where the night is so dark and all the street lights are switched off.
They're so different and you can see it so clearly now.
After a while of watching Sunday interact with one of my closest friends, I take steady steps along the patio and over the patch of grass where they were standing side by side. One with a smile and one without.
"Hi." I offer, stopping just in front of them and focusing my attention on Sunday.
I have Amos cradled back in my arms. Lorelai had him for a while but it feels unnatural to not be holding him at all times and to be perfectly honest, I feel a little bit redundant without him in my arms.
I know how needy and pathetic that sounds but Amos has become the one constant for me and so not having him close feels a little wrong. He's only been alive for nearing three weeks and even so, I can't imagine him not being everywhere that I am.
"Hi..." Sunday smiles brighter, her grin more focused on the very fussy baby I was trying to calm. "Hi, little man!"
"Harry-" Mitch looks up from the camera, glaring at me.
I nod my head in an indication for him to continue with his line of thought.
"Your kid is crying."
I stare at him blankly, strongly having to resist the urge to flip him off or slap him around the back of his head but I don't. Instead, I sarcastically smile and nod.
"Oh really? I can't hear a thing."
Sunday chuckles at my deadpan sarcasm, rubbing her hands together before holding them out in front of her with a warm smile.
I hand him over, pressing my lips to his temple before doing so. She bundles him into her arms and strokes the back of his head with her soft hand as she sways from side to side with a little pep to her bounce.
