Little Wonder (Phan)

Chapter Eleven.

Wrapping my arms around her small figure, I nestled my face in her messy curls, and took in the peace and quiet. Steven Universe quietly playing in the background, as we enjoyed our day together. It was Saturday, and I didn't have any plans today, so I'd decided to spend the entire day with her, and she didn't seem to have any objections to the idea. Neither of us had some much as whispered a word for what felt like hours, and yet, it didn't feel the least bit bad. In fact, it was calming, relaxing even. Especially when it was with someone you loved. "Papa, do you ever think Steven misses his mummy, like you and I miss daddy?" And then the silence was broken, and my calm thoughts scattered, and my relaxed figure became tense.

"I don't know, sweetie." I ran my fingers through her curls, trying to form an answer that didn't sound as confusing as the questions throughout my mind sounded. "I suppose so, but Steven never even got to meet his mummy. So I don't know if the feeling is the same." I let her turn around to face me, and watched as her expression went from confused to conflicted.

She put her tiny hands on my face, and squished my cheeks together, looking me in the eyes with a look that said 'don't speak', and then spoke words that I never knew a 4 year old could speak. "But we still miss daddy, and I think you miss him even more than Steven misses his mummy. I hear you at night, papa. You are sad, very, very sad. I don't want you being sad anymore. Please, can't you call daddy? I want daddy to come back home." Tears were welling up in my eyes, and I tried to not let her see, but she wouldn't let me move.

And then her short arms were wrapped around my neck, and she was nestling her face into my shoulder, crying as well. And, well, that broke my goddamn heart. There we were, a 26 year old man, and a 4 year old girl, bawling our eyes out. Tightening my grip on her, I pulled my head back, and smiled softly as I brushed back the curls out of her eyes. "Wow, we're a couple of cry babies, huh?" And the small smile that appeared on her face, warmed me up. I stood her up, holding her in my arms, and spun gently, and she just rested her head against me as we spun, that smile still on her face. "How about I call daddy later, hmm?"

Looking up, her light eyes sparkled, and my heart ached. I was lying straight to her face, and she was soaking up every word. I wasn't going to call Phil, there was no way I could call Phil, if he wasn't willing to call me after a few months of being apart, I sure as hell wasn't going to be the first one to make contact. "Now, how about some lunch?" The way her head perked up told me she was okay with the idea of food in our bellies. Jumping out of my arms, she ran towards the kitchen, claiming she was going to help me cook this time.

"What are we making, what are we making?" Bouncing up and down, the top of her head barely even reaching the counter, she went up on her tiptoes trying to reach the cookbook. With an amused smile, I grabbed the book and placed it in her tiny hands, watching her swell up with joy as she began to flip through the pages. "How about this?" Peeking over her shoulder, I saw that she wanted to make an omelet of some sort, but it was fancy looking. Peppers, cheese, onions, it sounded delicious. And complicated as hell. "/Pleeeease/?"

And that was when I knew I was going to be stuck making this omelet, but there was no one I'd rather make it with. "Let's do this." Happy squeals bubbled past her lips as she scampered towards the fridge, getting out the onions and peppers, and I watched her with pride. Not only had she read the instructions and what they needed, she'd /read/ them. She was growing up more and more everyday, right before my very eyes, and I almost couldn't believe it. "Thank you very much, sweet pea." Leaning down, I pecked her forehead.

"Chop them up! Chop them up!" Pointing with one of her chubby fingers towards the knives, I did as instructed, letting her take over, with my hands over hers, and watching as he light eyes lit up with awe and wonder as she watched the ingredients get chopped up. "Papa, I really like cooking with you!" And those few words made me swell up with happiness, and I recited her words back to her, earning me a bright smile, before she turned back around and concentrated on what she was doing. She had to be the cutest 4 year old ever.