The Baby {Next Generation 1} (COMPLETE)

¡!29!¡

Nathanael groaned as Angel ran around his studio, yelling loudly as he rubbed his temples while she threw her toys around the room he had bought her. She didn't like them and with her father ignoring her, she just got angrier and the news of Angel being the baby of two celebrities who weren't married spread like wildfire among everyone in Paris and the world. "Angel!" Nathanael finally shouted. She looked at him. "Can you please be quiet? I need to concentrate. This painting is very important."

"What's painting?" She asked. Nathanael lifted a brow as she walked over to him.

"It's my job," he grabbed a small canvas and put it on her play table. She sat down as he set up paints and moved his aisle to be by her. He set down a water cup and paintbrushes for her. "You take a brush and put it in the water then squeeze out the extra water," he did as he spoke for himself and she followed. "Then take any color you want and put the brush part into the paint," she did as said. "Then put the brush against the canvas and move the brush across it to make something."

Angel splattered the paint on canvas and looked up at Nathanael, watching his hand slowly move against the canvas. She did the same then looked at the canvas. "I want to change colors." She wanted to use green instead of blue now.

"Then put the brush in the water and brush it on the bottom, squeeze out the water then choose a new color," he explained, changing colors. Angel followed and changed colors three times before she walked up to Nathanael and watching him paint. "Something wrong Angel?" He changed colors again and started to paint the silhouette.

"Why does my painting look different from yours?" She asked.

"Everyone paints differently sweetheart," Nathanael looked down at her, seeing down his paintbrush into the water then kissing her forehead. "What did you paint?" She smiled and quickly grabbed the canvas, holding it up to him. He took it and studied it. Even though she as young, it was like she was a natural.

"Do you like is Daddy?" He looked down at her. She never called him daddy.

"Yes," he ruffled her hair that had dried paint in it. "I'll hang it up right here," he walked over to the wall and hung it up right in between two paintings of Marinette, when she was his muse. She still is. He stepped back and looked at the small canvas in between the two gigantic ones. "Right next to your Mommy." He sighed and crossed his arms. Angel stood next to him, looking at her mother who looked so heavenly in the two giant paintings.

"Daddy," he looked down at Angel. "Do you still love Mommy?"

"Not as much as I love you," Nathanael ruffled her hair then checked the time on his watch. He loved Marinette, just, only as a friend. "Now let's get the paint out of your hair then get you in bed." She nodded as he reached for her hand, her small hand wrapping around his pinkie. He walked her into the bathroom, bathed her then put her into the small bed in the giant room.