About You ✸ Paul Mescal, discontinued

O56'

Paul sat up in bed, blinking sleepily as he breathed in the smell of food. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock, seeing that he had been asleep for several hours. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so deeply, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been building for days. "Ivy don't try to feed Polly chicken please, you can give her a chip and that's it, she doesn't have the teeth for chicken" Orla asked the six year old softly. Paul heard Orla's voice drifting up from downstairs, and he sat up a little straighter, straining to hear her words. Her voice was still a little raspy, but it was clear and strong compared to how she had been earlier that day.

He swung his legs out of bed and stood up, wincing at the stiffness in his muscles from the long period of rest. He padded over to the door, opening it a crack to listen more closely to the conversation downstairs. He heard the sound of shuffling steps and Ivy piping up, her childish voice full of excitement. "But I want to feed her!" "I know, sweetheart, but she doesn't have any teeth yet," Orla replied, her voice gentle but firm. "You can give her a chip, but nothing else, okay?" There was a pause, then Ivy's voice again, slightly disappointed but still curious.  "Why doesn't she have any teeth yet?" She asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and confusion. Orla chuckled softly, the sound of her laugh like a warm comfort to Paul's ears.

"She's too little to have teeth yet," Orla explained patiently. "When you were born, you didn't have any teeth either, remember? You had to wait until you got a bit older before you grew any." There was a pause, and Paul could practically picture the expression on Ivy's face as she considered this information. Then she asked another question, her voice filled with innocence and wonder.

"When will she have teeth then? I want her to have teeth because I want to feed her chicken" She said, her voice a mixture of curiosity and impatience. Orla let out another soft laugh. "She'll have teeth soon enough," she reassured her daughter. "But she won't be eating any chicken for a while. She's too little for that kind of food." There was another pause, and Paul could almost see Ivy puffing out her cheeks in frustration.

"But how long is a while?" Ivy asked, her voice pleading. Paul could almost imagine the pout on her face, her small lips turned down in a frown as she tried to get the answers she wanted.

"A long time." Orla replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. "But you'll have to wait and see. For now, you just give her a chip, okay? And then eat your own dinner." There was another pause, then the sound of Ivy's voice again, this time quieter and a little defeated. "Okay..." She mumbled, her voice filled with resignation. Paul smiled to himself, imagining the resigned expression on his daughter's face as she obeyed her mother's instructions, albeit reluctantly.

There was a moment of silence, then the sound of footsteps and plates clattering as Ivy returned to her own dinner. Paul took the opportunity to step out of the room and quietly make his way down the stairs. He entered the kitchen, his eyes immediately finding Orla, sitting at the table, a plate of food in front of her that she was picking at. She looked up as he entered, a tired but warm smile spreading across her face as she saw him.

He smiled back at her, a wave of affection and relief washing over him at the sight of her. She looked much better than she had earlier, her face no longer pale and drawn, and her eyes bright and alert.

"We need to speak when my mother puts the girls to bed" She told him. Paul nodded, understanding immediately. He knew that 'we need to talk' was never a good thing, but considering the circumstances, he had expected it. There was a lot that they needed to talk about, and Paul knew that this conversation would be difficult, but necessary. He took a seat at the table across from Orla, his mind racing with thoughts and questions. He wanted to ask her a million things, but he knew that they needed to wait until the girls were tucked up in bed for the night. So instead, he just looked at her, watching her as she picked at her food, her expression a mixture of tiredness and determination.