Dream job?
Tiny and pink, the softest thing she's ever held. She smells clean and milky and peaceful. Abby laughs to herself a little--is it possible to smell peaceful? It must be.
She sits with her in the rocking chair, the one that smells vaguely of Logan, and leans her head against the fine, smooth crown of silk on her shoulder as she rocks just a little, just enough to make little shining spring green eyes drift closed and tiny hands curl into fists, a diminutive Cupid’s bow press in on itself before relaxing. She runs one fingertip over a rounded pale cheek. This girl's gonna be beautiful one day. She'll break hearts, just like her mother. For now, though, let's pretend she'll never grow up, just stay this perfect porcelain cherub for all time. Illusions aren't designed to last, anyway, so what's the harm in indulging in one a few minutes longer?
Susan bursts in the door, grinning broadly, hair windblown and cheeks red from carrying the groceries up the steps. Chuck follows close behind her, laughing riotously until he sees Abby with a finger to her lips. Logan's jacket, the one she borrowed, slips off the back of the chair and onto the floor without a sound as Abby slowly rises and passes Vee, also pulled from that world of dreams but thankfully still drowsy, to her mother.
She sits with her in the rocking chair, the one that smells vaguely of Logan, and leans her head against the fine, smooth crown of silk on her shoulder as she rocks just a little, just enough to make little shining spring green eyes drift closed and tiny hands curl into fists, a diminutive Cupid’s bow press in on itself before relaxing. She runs one fingertip over a rounded pale cheek. This girl's gonna be beautiful one day. She'll break hearts, just like her mother. For now, though, let's pretend she'll never grow up, just stay this perfect porcelain cherub for all time. Illusions aren't designed to last, anyway, so what's the harm in indulging in one a few minutes longer?
Susan bursts in the door, grinning broadly, hair windblown and cheeks red from carrying the groceries up the steps. Chuck follows close behind her, laughing riotously until he sees Abby with a finger to her lips. Logan's jacket, the one she borrowed, slips off the back of the chair and onto the floor without a sound as Abby slowly rises and passes Vee, also pulled from that world of dreams but thankfully still drowsy, to her mother.