Oblivion // Luke Hemmings

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

Luke Hemmings

"Dude, you look so punk rock right now," I gleam.

Elijah stares back at me, blinking wordlessly. I don't expect him to just be like, "Thanks, Dad!" though, because he's just a week old baby and all.

"Michael would be so proud," I claim. "He bought you these little baby Converse."

Elijah kicks his feet, begging for me to pick him up. He didn't have to tell me twice (even if he could) because I'm his dad and I just know things like that. Dad instinct, I guess.

"Luke?" Taylor's groggy voice appears behind me.

I whip around, Elijah now in my arms. Taylor is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, wearing a tired expression and a messy pile of hair atop her head. She was still beautiful to me.

"You okay, baby?" I ask.

"I just gave birth a week ago," Taylor replies, walking over and taking Elijah from me.

"I know. I was there," I chuckle.

"I'm just drained," she says, giving Elijah a binky lying on his dresser nearby.

"Go back to sleep, babe," I tell her.

"I've been sleeping since eight last night," she deadpans. "I think I can give you a break from Elijah since you've been taking care of him all of last night and this morning."

"It's okay. I don't mind it," I assure her.

"I'm not tired anymore, just fatigued," she claims.

"Okay. As long as you're okay," I say.

"I am. I need to feed Elijah anyway."

I scrunch up my nose. "Gross."

"You're gross. Go take a shower while I feed him," she orders me.

"So demanding," I gasp, but then lean down and press my lips against hers quickly, then Elijah's head. "I'll take a quick shower."

"Okay. I'll be in here probably," Taylor replies.

"Love you," I tell her.

"I love you."

//////

I toss my towel into the dirty clothes and towels bin, then walk back to Elijah's room. I find him lying in his bed staring up at the ceiling, quiet as a mouse. Taylor is sleeping in the rocking chair. No matter what she says, I know she's tired. Last night was the first night I actually took care of Elijah all by myself.

"Hey, buddy," I speak quietly to Elijah.

He stares up at me as if I'm a big idiot. I chuckle lowly, reaching in and grabbing him. His head falls on shoulder, not being able to lift it himself yet. I position him so he's cradled in my arms and I can have a good look at his face.

"How are you?" I ask, not expecting an answer back at all.

Silence, as I predicted.

"That's good. Did you know I'm your dad?"

The hairless baby just stares at me like I'm dumb.

"Well, I am. I'm twenty-one now. You're, like, a week and a couple hours," I reply to nothing at all. "I think you're really neat and I hope you think I'm neat, too."

I bet if Elijah could speak he would tell me to fuck off, but he doesn't say anything. When do babies even start talking? I thought they started talking in, like, a week. What the hell do I know?