Hope's POV
"Momma! Momma wake up!"
I open my eyes slowly, where a little boy sits on my legs at the foot of the bed. He grins, his curls messy. His blue eyes shine with excitement, and I sit up, stretching. Daryl snoozes beside me, dressed in an old t-shirt and striped pyjama pants.
"You promised that you'd make waffles this morning!" the little boy says, climbing off the bed.
I'm wearing fleecy red pyjama pants with little polar bears on them, and the red t-shirt that reads "Proud to be Canadian". The house looks like a log cabin, and I smile at the feeling of familiarity.
"Chase..." Daryl groans, sitting up. "What time is it?"
"I don't know, but I woke up and I'm hungry and momma said she was gonna make waffles," the little boy, Chase, says.
"With bacon?" Daryl asks me.
"Of course there's bacon." I laugh, and he gives me a peck on the cheek.
I get up and head towards the kitchen. Chase runs ahead, and I hear barking as a dog comes bounding down the hallway after us. I choke up at the sight of the dog, still so familiar. It can't be...
"Augustus! Stop!" Chase squeals, wrestling the Labrador/German shepherd to the ground.
Gus wags his tail and keeps licking his face. I bite my lip, scratching the dog behind the ears. He nuzzles my hand lovingly, and I head back into the kitchen.
Daryl comes out a little while later, not having bothered to comb his hair. It sticks up at all different angles, and I laugh.
"What's so funny angel?" he asks groggily.
"Your hair." I smirk, placing a dollop of batter onto the hot waffle iron.
"Whatever. I'm getting a haircut in a few days."
"Only because of me."
"Always lookin' out for me." He places a kiss on my cheek and heads to the living room.
I hear the tv switch on, and the sounds of the morning news drift through the house.
"And it's a beautiful day in Saskatoon! Our high for the weather will reach 5° C, so we will probably see some melting snow today," the weather man says.
"Damn, it's about time!" Daryl exclaims.
"Momma! Daddy said the 'D' word!" Chase tattles, and he squeals as Daryl scoops him up, tickling him.
"Daddy doesn't like tattletales," he growls teasingly, and my son squeals again.
"If you two don't stop fighting I'm not giving you bacon!" I call.
"Either way babe, don't get me wrong, I love Canada, but these winters are awful!" Daryl says, switching the channel to some redneck hunting show.
I laugh. "Ah, you get used to them."
"I am used to 'em," he counters.
I flip a fresh waffle onto a plate and start another, smiling as the batter hisses against the heat.
YOU ARE READING
Beyond Terminus (Book Two)
FanfictionThe world has changed...or ended. It depends on how you look at it. The undead roam the streets, hungry, never full. They search for human or animal flesh to fill the void of their bottomless guts. One bite and you're doomed; doomed to become one of...
