𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐀 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 ༄ 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯

𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐞, 𝖽. 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗈

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 // none
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 // anon
• 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵. 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The burning desire you had to get back to your home was stronger than anything, and in the current moment, it seemed far more powerful than the fire you had just put out at a thankfully empty house a good twenty-five minutes from the station, even with the sirens blaring and the roads practically empty. It was lucky that a passerby noticed the smoke coming from the fenced estate.

The garage opened when you pressed a button on your steering wheel, and you parked your car inside before grabbing your things and stepping out of the vehicle into the airy place. The evening heat automatically came through any gaps as the garage closed once more.

You walked towards the door that would lead you inside, swinging it open and entering the hallway leading to the kitchen. You kick off your shoes and shut the door behind you, a relieved sigh leaving your lips as you finally get to relax for two days until your next shift. You followed through the arch and went straight for the island in the centre of the lavish room to set down your bags on the marble counters.

"Mummy's home!"

From up above, you heard a loud squeal and pattering footsteps that thundered through the upstairs hall, stopping suddenly. "No, you stay there!" A sweet voice commanded before continuing to make her way down the stairs.

Your little girl ran through the doorway into the kitchen, her eyes lighting up as she saw you and a happy grin adorning her face. A princess dress was over her pyjamas, and fairy wings rested on her back. She launched herself at you, and you picked her up, embracing her warmly, arms wrapped securely around her small frame as you held on for something you needed after the day you'd had. You greeted her fondly and placed a kiss on her head, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.

"Where's dad?" You asked gently, placing her back down onto the rich wooden floors. Her hand reached out for yours, and she grasped it tightly, pulling you along towards the stairs past the family room and your office.

"It's not Dad; it's Princess Daddy, actually," she said matter-of-factly as you made your way up the grand staircase. Your tired legs just about kept up with her as she dragged you along to her bedroom down the hall. It was ten in the evening, and you wondered how she could still have energy at this hour. She was usually passed out in her bed by this time, and sometimes you with her if you were exhausted, with an opened storybook falling out of your arms.

"Ah right, my bad," you trailed, not quite following what she was implying with your brain slowly dying after a twenty-four-hour shift that included not even a brief close of your eyes while everything was peaceful. It seemed like you never got used to the long hours you put in, but a good rest should practically reboot you back to your usual self.

She walked into her bedroom with you, and you saw your husband sitting at a small table on an even tinier chair, wearing a pink skirt over his casual clothes and a silver tiara on his head. His face snapped up to meet you when you had come in, and a look of appreciation overtook him. He looked absolutely thrilled to see you again, and he went to stand up, but your daughter had released your hand and had gone over and pushed him back down onto his seat.