The Babysitter

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Little Nate is above!

He's so adorable I cri.

✖✖✖

"How come you never let me win?" The eight year old whined and threw his controller down.

"If I let you win then you won't get any better at the game," I laughed.

He pouted cutely causing me to scoop his small body up and into my arms. He squealed and giggled as I carried him upstairs.

"It's getting late, buddy," I said walking into his room and checking the time.

9:35 pm

"Why isn't my Dad back yet?" He wondered.

"He'll be here. I promise," I said setting him down and searching for some pajamas for him.

"Can't we just wait a little while longer?" He begged adorably.

I pursed my lips in thought but quickly gave up staring into those young, puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," I groaned, "But get changed first. We can watch TV after."

"Dad has a huge TV in his room! Can we watch in there? Pleaseee?" He begged, trying to rush and pull the pajama top over his head.

"Does he normally let you watch TV in there?" I wondered.

"Yes, yes. Can we please?" The child begged, already finished getting dressed.

I couldn't bite back a yawn at the thought of relaxing on a bed while watching TV. I gave in and Nate immediately began jumping up and down in excitement.

He dragged me to Mr. Barton's room, which had dark gray walls and a dark red duvet on the bed. The TV opposite of the bed really was huge- maybe a seventy inch?

Nate and I climbed up the large bed, messing up the duvet covers as we got comfortable. Nate snatched the remote from the bedside table and switched the TV on.

I yawned again, starting to feel the soreness in my legs now. I was aching from my shoulders and neck down to my toes.

"Are you sleepy?" Nate asked me cutely, cuddling into my side once he found a show he wanted to watch.

"Yeah, my coach made us run a lot today since we lost the game," I explained with another yawn. Nate yawned right after me and I laughed because yawns really are contagious.

"I'm sleepy too," he said, gripping my loose tee in his small hands.

"Go to sleep, buddy," I said smiling fondly. He nuzzled his head further into my chest and soon I heard his breathing even out into sleep.

I don't remember much after that moment because soon I was dozing off too, with a cuddly eight year old and the smell of Mr. Barton engulfing us.

✖✖✖

"Pietro? Hey, wake up."

I groaned, blinding swatting away whoever's hands were shaking my sore shoulders.

"'M too tired," I mumbled groggily, my accent sounding thicker with sleep.

"You have to get home, kid," came the voice again.

I groaned again at that. I don't feel like going home and dealing with my drunken father. His undoubtedly still awake, ruining the house. As long as my sister, Wanda, is still at her friend's sleepover, I have no reason to rush home.

"No," I grumbled.

The voice sighed, "Do you want to sleep here tonight?"

"Mmhmm," I grumbled into the great smelling pillow before dozing back off again.