twenty-three.

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the measure of courage

Returning to Wynter's place to fill in Reed's place with the kids, the couple tried to keep their minds clear of dispair, the match still fresh and broad in their memories and so the task of straying away from the matter came as a hard task.

I mean, you couldn't blame the players in one way or another. Overpowering a team or simply lifting a trophy over their heads came as second nature for the Liverpool squad this season and so when yet another trophy is snatched out of their grasps, they simply didn't know how to react, especially with all of the excessive losses they've suffered within the last few weeks.

Though despite Liverpool's loss on her back, the french player had the kids to take care of which successfully got her mind drifting away from the fresh loss and the scouse got a clear sight of it. The moment the two individuals stepped into the Reyes household, the kids were attached to the french player's hip as they always were whenever they stayed over for a week or so – Iris asking for this, Milo asking for that while Dylan asked for this and that with his constant french babbling.

Of course, Wynter didn't commit to all of the manual labour by herself, Trent pitching in with the older kids to get them fed and changed into their nightwear while his girlfriend took on the duty to manage Dylan and his toddler needs.

Later on, with his girlfriend tending to Iris' hair needs upstairs, Trent was left to look over Milo and Dylan in the living room though mainly Dylan as the older Reyes seemed perfectly fine indulging himself in 2K NBA on Wynter's PlayStation. And so while he did so, the scouse accompanied Dylan by his little play area on the floor, abundant amounts of toys (the majority of which were either football or basketball related) scattered all over the floor as he did the very best he could to entertain the infant.

"Dylan, look!" Trent attempted to impress the child with one of Wynter's footballs, doing a few tricks by his feet. Once he was done, he took the ball in his hands before he held it out to Dylan. "Here, now you try," he said, pointing to the goals by the side.

Rather than going for the defender's requested expectations, Dylan picked up the play basketball by his side and he walked over to his little basketball nets, clapping his hands together as the ball swiftly fell through the net.

"The pure cheek of ya," Trent resisted a laugh as he shook his head. "I know your dad plays basketball and all but football is the better sport little man," he explained as he picked up Dylan, tickling the place under the infant's chin.

Just then, Wynter entered into the living room with a nursing bottle in one hand and Iris on her hip, the young girl's hair recently done into small braids though now covered in a hair bonnet. "Okay, here you go Iris," she sighed lightly, placing Iris down on one of the couches before reaching over to the coffee table to grab the kid's iPad. "And you can take this. Don't go on it for too long, yeah?"

After the young girl replied with a soft yeah while her eyes were already focused on the device, the french player wandered over to Trent and Dylan. She fell to the pair's height, crossing her legs. "And you, Dylan. It is well past your bedtime so let's get you sleeping soon," she softly ran her fingers through the kid's hair before directing her attention to Trent. "Thanks for caring for him while I was with Iris. I'll take him from now."

Noticing her tired eyes, Trent instantly refused with a head shake. "Nah, Winnie. It's alright. I'll feed him. You deserve a little break. Go play with Milo."

"You sure?" she asked with a raised brow.

He let out a laugh as he got up from the floor with Dylan on his hip. "Yes, I'm positive. Now hand it over," Trent insisted again, gesturing to the nursing bottle with an open palm.

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