Daughter of a Witch

August Evening

A cool breeze blew through the late August evening, a welcome change from the day's heat. The scent of freshly turned soil and blooming flowers still clung to the air, a testament to the hours Rio and Y/n had spent working and playing in the garden. The little girl had been a ball of energy all afternoon, running between the rows of vegetables and helping Rio water the plants, though more water had ended up on her than on the soil.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden hue across the yard, Rio noticed Y/n beginning to slow. Her dark brown curls were damp with sweat, and her small hands rubbed at her eyes, trying to fend off the sleepiness creeping in. Rio crouched down and gently scooped the little girl into her arms, brushing a stray curl from her face. "Alright, sweet girl," she murmured softly, "let's call it a day."

Y/n didn't protest, her head resting heavily on Rio's shoulder as she was carried inside. The house smelled of dinner—savory and warm—drawing them toward the kitchen. Agatha stood at the stove, stirring a pot with practiced ease. She wore her usual calm expression, but her lips curved into a soft smile as she turned to see her wife and daughter. The golden light from outside mingled with the warm glow of the kitchen, wrapping the scene in a cozy aura.

Rio shifted Y/n slightly in her arms. "Look who's all tuckered out," she said, her tone laced with affection.

Agatha chuckled, setting the spoon down and turning the heat to low. "I wonder why," she teased lightly, walking over to them. Her hand came up to brush against Y/n's flushed cheek. "Was someone playing a little too hard today?"

Y/n made a small noise of protest, half-asleep and unwilling to engage in conversation. Rio laughed softly. "She had the best time, though. Didn't you, mi amor?"

Agatha smiled and pressed a kiss to Y/n's temple. "Why don't I clean her up and put her into something comfy while you shower? You've got dirt on your face, cariña."

Rio smirked, feigning offense. "It's called working hard. But fine, she's all yours." She carefully passed Y/n to Agatha, who easily cradled the little girl.

"Come on, sweetheart," Agatha murmured as she carried Y/n upstairs. "Let's get you all cleaned up."

Y/n whined softly, her head nuzzling into Agatha's neck. "No bath," she mumbled, her voice thick with exhaustion.

Agatha chuckled as she entered the bathroom, setting Y/n down on the counter. "Just a quick one, darling. You'll feel so much better afterward."

Despite her protests, Y/n let Agatha undress her and settle her into the warm water. Agatha hummed softly as she washed away the dirt and sweat from Y/n's day of adventures, her gentle hands working efficiently but carefully. The little girl's eyes drooped further, and by the time Agatha wrapped her in a soft towel, she was more than halfway asleep.

Back in Y/n's room, Agatha helped her into a soft lavender nightgown, the fabric light and cool against her skin. She ran her fingers through Y/n's damp curls, gently detangling them as Y/n sighed in content. "There we go," Agatha whispered. "All comfy now."

Y/n didn't respond, her head lolling against Agatha's shoulder. The older woman carried her back downstairs, the comforting aroma of dinner still wafting through the air. With Y/n securely in one arm, Agatha returned to the stove, stirring the pot with her free hand. She hummed a soft tune, the rhythm soothing and familiar, as Y/n's small fingers clung lightly to her shirt.

A few minutes later, Rio came down the stairs, her damp hair curling slightly from her shower. She paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of her wife and daughter. Agatha's movements were fluid and precise, even with a half-asleep child in her arms. The warm light of the kitchen seemed to wrap them in a glow, a picture of quiet love and contentment.