Prompt Post No. 19
Welcome to Round 19 of the Inception Kink Meme.
Prompting System
Prompting System
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- Forty-eight hours later, post will reopen to new prompts and permanently close to all new prompts when ( Read more... )
He was floating in the most delightful darkness when shrill and desperate wails started to worm their way through his ears and by the time his eyelids drifted apart, the wailing had turned to full-blown bawling.
Eames rolled onto his side, feeling more ragged and worn out than he had done when he had first collapsed onto his bed and stared across the dark room where the screeching emanated from; a white cot surrounded by a haze of mosquito netting. He had placed the cot right beneath the window so when the mobile’s soft yellow stars spun around to Brahms lullaby it made it look like they were twirling right up in the sky, as if the stars were within reach, as if his son really had some clue about the world around him.
His son.
His actual son who was born three weeks ago with a large amount of downy, dark hair and was called William. His son who made him feel like the biggest fraud more than anything else he had ever done as he played at being a single father. His son who really needed to learn that there could only be one unruly newborn in their relationship and that role was being filled by him.
Misery and loneliness crushed into Eames, overpowering his exhaustion. With glossy eyes he hauled himself up, scrubbing a hand over the thick, gold-brown wires that covered his lower face and he staggered across the room, tripping over a pile of baby books at one point and sending them skidding across the floor and thumping into the wall.
He parted the netting and carefully picked up William and held him to his chest, the little body shuddering as he howled, his tiny legs writhing away, his petite hands balled up into fists.
Eames cupped the soggy nappy and his nose curled up a little at its heaviness and dampness as he padded through to the bathroom, William screeching and smashing apart his eardrums, and Eames winced at the overwhelming brightness when he switched on the light.
The ritual of diapering had been well and truly ingrained into him. He placed William down on the changing table and pressed a small, soft monkey rattle into the prawn-like fingers, which William promptly dropped to the floor and Eames was utterly robotic as he cleaned up the disgusting mess, applied the ointment and fastened on the clean diaper.
By the time Eames was washing his hands, William’s screaming had been reduced to quiet snuffles as he gazed up at the ceiling with his grey eyes rimmed with long, wet eyelashes, apparently fascinated by cracks in the plaster as he sucked on the bottom lip of his rosebud mouth.
Eames smoothed William’s hair back down onto the fragile skull that had been mussed up from his squirming and the thought that he had made the biggest mistake of his life slid into him. It often did, whether it was when he was fretting about their future or crying because his hormones had turned him into an emotional wreak and made being alone in a run-down flat seem completely devastating. Or at times like this that were supposed to be classed as bonding moments according the all the books he'd read and he was reminded of how he didn’t love the little boy yet.
William was sweet-looking as far as babies went and Eames didn’t want any harm to come to him, he’d fight off all kinds of savage beasts with his bare hands to protect the lad but there was a gap inside him. A gap that he was certain was supposed to be filled with euphoria and unwavering adoration and not just a mild fondness. Eames gently trailed his finger across William’ soft, silky cheek and all he could think was what the hell had he done.
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Will be refreshing this page every .5 seconds. Loving it, nonnie!
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lovely writing, and such an interesting beginning, eames not being happy at all.
you've got me hooked, so now you officially have a follower by your side. can't wait for all of this to unravel, looking forward to the next bit.
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