the sitter | lewandowski

thirty three

33; la bohème

//

It had been two whole months since Saoirse's return from the hospital, and to both Saoirse and Robert, it'd felt like only two days. Nova was two years old now, Stella two months. Robert had nearly forced Saoirse to get a job all summer, but she always avoided doing so by using the excuse of the fact that being a mother was a job enough—so Robert left her alone, up until the family had been out shopping for furniture and a scout approached Saoirse, stating that she'd be a fantastic model before giving her his card.

"You should do it," Robert claimed, the next morning. Saoirse had figured it was all some sort of scam.

"Be a model? Please," Saoirse snorted. "I don't want the whole world judging me any more than they do already. Plus, if I'm gonna have a job, I don't want it to depend on how I look. What if something terrible happens to me? What about when I get old and wrinkly? Would you even love me?"

Robert, who'd been standing at the kitchen island and watching Saoirse make pancakes while he drank a cup of coffee, rose his eyebrows as he searched for an answer to her question, which was likely rhetorical.

In theory, Robert thought that nothing in the world was beautiful compared to her. And it should've been romantic, but really it just made him obsessive when she was there, and numb when she was gone. Sure, Saoirse was perfect in the state she was in, physically and mentally—far too perfect to last that way forever—but when he lost her, he'd lose one of the only things he cared about. "Of course I would," he finally said.

Saoirse flipped the pancake onto a plate, congratulated herself with a whispered "yes!", and turned around before gazing at Robert. "I'll think about it." She mumbled, finally. Her blue eyes pierced his and gave him a thrill so breathtaking that it made him want to pause for a day just to take that breath back, like he'd just seen her for the first time.

Saoirse slid the plate over to Robert, then made her way around the table and behind him as he began to eat. She knew that she could easily be classified as one of the annoying and crazy type of girlfriends; as she always had to have her hands on Robert when they were together, and would do things to purposefully arouse him in the most inappropriate of times—but Robert never complained about it.

Now, she hugged onto his back like a leech, the crook of her neck rested on his shoulder—when all he was trying to do was eat. "Am I bothering you too much?" She inquired, watching the way his cheekbones flexed and tightened as he softly chewed.

Slowly, he shook his head. He moved a hand back to pat her thigh, almost as though he was assuring her, before she smiled and spoke again. "I can't believe that I don't remember what I thought the first time I saw you, Robert. That that there was a time when you meant so little to me! I can't remember what it felt like to be that girl, to have so many other things on my mind that you couldn't top the list."

Robert blushed a little. "Well, I remember everything about the moment I first saw you—and I thought I was the old one here." He added, with an eye roll. Saoirse laughed against his skin, and he finished eating before he spoke. "You were wearing one of your vintage numbers. The black minidress, with the black knee-high boots. I specifically told myself that you looked like the inspiration for a love song written by the Beatles."

Saoirse blushed. "Well, I do love their music. When will your mother return with the children?"

Robert shrugged and stood up, only towering over Saoirse by a few inches. "Who knows with her? She loves Stella and Nova so much that I wouldn't be surprised if she was already halfway to Warsaw by now in an attempt to kidnap them."