Diyiren said, "Your mother was so small. A few pounds in my arms. At first, Yuemu wouldn't leave me alone with her, but after a few weeks, she trusted me not to hurt her and Aoibh was getting bigger, not so fragile as she was when she was born. We did everything together. Yuemu would throw us in the bathtub together. We ran around naked. Clothed. We were children; it didn't matter to us."
Nianzang could just picture it, his mother, a toddler, teetering as she walked to the tub, grabbing the railing, climbing up the little steps that had been made just for her and tumbling into the tub. He couldn't fathom his father looking like a ten year old boy. In human form, his father was a small, slender Chinese man, but he was stoic and imposing. People fell to their knees in his presence. It was fun to think of him immersed in the water, clapping for the child Aoibh, cheering her on. Then when she made it, he grabbed her up in his arms, kissed her cheek, scrubbed his fingers through her short demon-red curls.
YOU ARE READING
The Lamb and the Gray Battle
FantasyEvie has spent the last 575 years on the North American continent, now called America, the Pure and Clean. She smiles, volunteers and makes cakes and pastries for her neighbors, hiding away her demon blood. She wants nothing to do with her estranged...
