39. Innocence
muse_playground prompt: 39. Innocence
John, twenty-three years old, sat in the kitchen, a coffee mug in his hand, pouring over the newspaper spread on the table. Pale morning light came in through the window over the sink where his wife stood, preparing a bottle for their son Gregory. The six-month-old was sitting nearby, in his high chair.
The toaster dinged and Blythe put down the bottle for a moment to take out the toast, arrange it on a plate with a butter-knife and place both on the table in front of John. He buttered his toast absently, still wrapped up in the article he was reading. Blythe sat down at the table beside the baby then and held out the bottle for him. Gregory pushed it away and reached his arms out toward John.
"Dadada!" he gurgled.
The corner of John's mouth lifted and he glanced at Blythe, who shook her head with a smile. "He doesn't know it means you; he just likes the sound," she said, teasing.
John leaned in toward the baby. "No, you know your Dadda, don't you?" he said. "You know your Dadda."
Greg's arms stretched out toward the mug in John's hand. John glanced at it and back at his son. "What, you want this?" He lifted it up.
The boy's eyes widened. "Dadadada!" he said again, waving his arms.
John took the bottle from Blythe, who watched him curiously, then picked up Blythe's still unused coffee mug from the table, and poured the milk into it. He held it out to Gregory, who grasped it eagerly and broke into an open-mouthed grin that lit up his eyes. He pulled the cup to his mouth and drank, as John held onto the bottom, helping to support the heavy ceramic.
Much of the milk dribbled down Greg's chin, but he was fairly successful in taking a sip. John smiled at Blythe as he pulled the cup away from the boy's mouth again. "Look at that," he said. "Most kids don't want to give up the bottle. You have to work to get them to drink from a cup. But he likes it." Blythe returned his smile and took the mug, holding it up for Gregory to sip at some more.
John lifted his own mug to his mouth and drank as well, which made Gregory shake with happy laughter. His mother's smile grew even wider and her eyes grew soft. "You want to be just like Daddy, don't you?"
John chuckled and turned back to the paper, finishing his coffee and toast quickly. "I've got to go," he announced a few minutes later. He rose, grabbed his things, gave Blythe a peck on the cheek, and brushed his hand across the soft, curly tufts on Gregory's head.
"Mind your mother, little man," he said, furrowing his brow in mock-seriousness at his son.
"Oh, I'm sure he will," Blythe laughed. "Say 'byebye' to Daddy!" she said in a high, sweet voice.
Gregory looked up at John with wide, blue eyes, his expression curious. John smiled. He glanced back at his wife. "Bye, dear," he said, and with that he was off.
Muse: John House
Fandom: House, M.D.
Words: 521
John, twenty-three years old, sat in the kitchen, a coffee mug in his hand, pouring over the newspaper spread on the table. Pale morning light came in through the window over the sink where his wife stood, preparing a bottle for their son Gregory. The six-month-old was sitting nearby, in his high chair.
The toaster dinged and Blythe put down the bottle for a moment to take out the toast, arrange it on a plate with a butter-knife and place both on the table in front of John. He buttered his toast absently, still wrapped up in the article he was reading. Blythe sat down at the table beside the baby then and held out the bottle for him. Gregory pushed it away and reached his arms out toward John.
"Dadada!" he gurgled.
The corner of John's mouth lifted and he glanced at Blythe, who shook her head with a smile. "He doesn't know it means you; he just likes the sound," she said, teasing.
John leaned in toward the baby. "No, you know your Dadda, don't you?" he said. "You know your Dadda."
Greg's arms stretched out toward the mug in John's hand. John glanced at it and back at his son. "What, you want this?" He lifted it up.
The boy's eyes widened. "Dadadada!" he said again, waving his arms.
John took the bottle from Blythe, who watched him curiously, then picked up Blythe's still unused coffee mug from the table, and poured the milk into it. He held it out to Gregory, who grasped it eagerly and broke into an open-mouthed grin that lit up his eyes. He pulled the cup to his mouth and drank, as John held onto the bottom, helping to support the heavy ceramic.
Much of the milk dribbled down Greg's chin, but he was fairly successful in taking a sip. John smiled at Blythe as he pulled the cup away from the boy's mouth again. "Look at that," he said. "Most kids don't want to give up the bottle. You have to work to get them to drink from a cup. But he likes it." Blythe returned his smile and took the mug, holding it up for Gregory to sip at some more.
John lifted his own mug to his mouth and drank as well, which made Gregory shake with happy laughter. His mother's smile grew even wider and her eyes grew soft. "You want to be just like Daddy, don't you?"
John chuckled and turned back to the paper, finishing his coffee and toast quickly. "I've got to go," he announced a few minutes later. He rose, grabbed his things, gave Blythe a peck on the cheek, and brushed his hand across the soft, curly tufts on Gregory's head.
"Mind your mother, little man," he said, furrowing his brow in mock-seriousness at his son.
"Oh, I'm sure he will," Blythe laughed. "Say 'byebye' to Daddy!" she said in a high, sweet voice.
Gregory looked up at John with wide, blue eyes, his expression curious. John smiled. He glanced back at his wife. "Bye, dear," he said, and with that he was off.
Muse: John House
Fandom: House, M.D.
Words: 521