𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 ➪ «𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛»

ch. I pt. II

.oOo.

Diana was startled out of her thoughts and staring at the book's lines when she heard very loud yawning. She turned in her seat to see her dad stepping out of his and mom's tent. The golden morning light reflected on his dark skin, giving him a glowing sheen.

Samuel walked up to her and offered her a wordless nod, which she returned. Then he feinted a punch at her side with a feigned grunt.

Diana pretended to take the punch in slow motion and lifted her own fists, jabbing the air around him. She grinned up at him as he absentmindedly hugged her to his side and scratched her under the chin like a dog.

She pushed him away with a laugh. "Good morning," she added, her voice still gravelly from earlier. She tried to disguise it by clearing her throat while putting away her book. She felt a tiny bit victorious that she'd been up sooner than her early bird of a dad, even if it hadn't been purposeful.

"Good mornings are in the morning," Sam responded in his northern accented Portuguese. That was his usual response, every morning without fail, no matter how early it was.

Diana chuckled and shook her head, feeling the end of her ponytail swipe her shoulders. "Wanna wait for breakfast with me?" she joked and did nothing to hide her grin.

Sam crossed his arms and raised an amused eyebrow. The contrast of his hazel-green eyes against his dark skin made him all the more intimidating. "Wait for breakfast? Look at this one. You think this is a goddamn hotel? You're gonna get off your ass and help make fucking breakfast."

The cussing was so familiar to his way of speech that it went almost unnoticed. He was from the North; it'd be weird if he didn't swear.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, Papi. You're the best, and we're the worst children in the whole world," Diana teased, reciting one of her habitual japes from when he complained about their insufficient help with chores.

A warning look from him had her up on her feet with a mock salute and doing as instructed. She knew she could play around with her dad, but she also knew there were limits, and her dad was a stickler for respect.

So, bantering back and forth, he guided her to light the fire in the pit. Then he prepared scrambled powdered eggs with sausages and bacon, a nod to the American breakfast. It was like Diana could feel her arteries clogging from the smell alone.

"Wow." The groggy voice drawled from behind them, interrupting Sam as he repeated and explained a joke he had told Diana all but two minutes ago; a habit she found very endearing.

She turned to see her mom, Irene, making her way to them, a lazy smile on her lips and eyes still bleary with sleep, one hand still scratching at the top of her bob of dark hair. A yawn forced its way out of her, infecting both Sam and Diana, which caused Irene to breathe out a small chuckle.

While Sam was an early riser, Irene always preferred to sleep in late.

She pecked Diana's upturned cheek and then her husband's lips. Before she could separate from him, Sam pulled her down, making her fall forward onto his lap with a squeal and an indignant call of his name.

Diana averted her eyes and stood to sit on the log vis-à-vis to grant them some privacy, feeling like an intruder on their displays of affection. Just to tease them, she whined, "For real, right in front of my salad?" For once, she was glad they weren't internet-savvy.

Irene simply dismissed her with a wave of her hand as she stood from her husband's lap to sit next to him. "You say that now, but you'll see when you find the love of your life."