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rainbowfic2013-09-25 09:57 pm
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Nile Green 3: Comfort
Author: Kat
Title: Comfort
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Nile green 3 (Flood Plane) with shadowsong's paint-by-numbers (Some people find storms exhilerating. Some do not.)
Supplies and Materials: Acrylic (A dream/A laugh/A moment of love/A dream/A laugh-Sweet Disposition; The Temper Trap), glitter (What does happiness mean to you?), novelty beads (daddies do this too), frame.
Word Count: 561
Rating: G
Summary: Molly needs some comfort-- her daddy provides.
Warnings: none.
Notes: One more to go in Nile Green.
Aaron woke up, when thunder crashed spectacularly over his head.
Ordinarily he would have shrugged and gone back to sleep. Thunderstorms didn't really interest him, not since he stopped sharing a house with Ivy, anyway. He felt they were a lot of sound and fury signifying nothing, or at least nothing more than a couple of downed tree branches and maybe a power outage. But something had lumped up the covers down by his feet, and since his wife was currently out of town, that was definitely interesting.
He turned the light on and lifted up the covers, to meet the small bright eyes of his five-year-old daughter.
"Hi, kiddo," he said. "Thunderstorm bothering you?"
Molly nodded. "Billy said I was being stupid," she said, in a tiny voice. " But it's loud."
"It is really loud," Aaron said, "and Billy's wrong. You want to come up here?"
Lightning lit the room briefly, and thunder crashed again. She winced, and shook her head.
"Okay." Aaron turned the light out again—no sense in wasting power—and crawled down under the blankets. Molly huddled close and clung with an iron grip, flinching every time it thundered. Her breath was warm, slightly milky, the way it had been when she was a baby. He missed his children's infancy sometimes, how small and fragile and impossibly tiny they were.
She wasn't shaking, at least. Ivy always used to shake.
"You want to know a secret?" he asked her, after a while.
"What?"
"When your Aunt Ivy was your age, she used to do the same thing," he said. "Whenever it stormed she'd be so scared she'd climb into my bed, or Grampy Nathan's, because she couldn't sleep otherwise."
"Aunt Ivy?" He could hear the disbelief in Molly's voice. "Uh-uh. She's not scared of nothing."
"Of anything," Aaron corrected gently. "She's scared of a lot of things. But she's really scared of thunderstorms."
Molly thought about that for a moment. "As scared as me?"
"More," he said. "At least, when she was little. I don't know how scared she is these days, because she doesn't climb into my bed anymore."
Molly giggled. "She climbs into Aunt Gina's?"
"That's right," he said, solemnly, and she giggled again.
Lightning struck again, bright white through the blankets, but the thunder took longer to come. "Hear that?" Aaron asked. "It's going away now."
"Oh," Molly said. She didn't relax her grip, but the muscles of her back unwound a bit. "Billy will be sad."
"Yeah? He likes thunderstorms?"
She shrugged, shoulders moving under his arm. "I dunno. He was watching it. I think he liked it, maybe. I just got afraid we were gonna flood."
"We won't flood," Aaron said, positively. "Not in a plain old thunderstorm. Maybe—only maybe, you understand—if there's a hurricane, but if it's supposed to get that bad we won't be anywhere that we might flood, okay? I promise. If it might flood, we won't be here."
"Okay," Molly said, and yawned. "Can I stay here tonight?"
"Sure," he said. "But come sleep up on the pillow, okay? It's kind of hot under the covers."
"Okay," she said again, and wiggled up towards the pillow.
She was still there in the morning, cuddled close, her hair tickling the underside of Aaron's chin, her hands still clenched in the t-shirt he wore to bed.
Title: Comfort
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Nile green 3 (Flood Plane) with shadowsong's paint-by-numbers (Some people find storms exhilerating. Some do not.)
Supplies and Materials: Acrylic (A dream/A laugh/A moment of love/A dream/A laugh-Sweet Disposition; The Temper Trap), glitter (What does happiness mean to you?), novelty beads (daddies do this too), frame.
Word Count: 561
Rating: G
Summary: Molly needs some comfort-- her daddy provides.
Warnings: none.
Notes: One more to go in Nile Green.
Aaron woke up, when thunder crashed spectacularly over his head.
Ordinarily he would have shrugged and gone back to sleep. Thunderstorms didn't really interest him, not since he stopped sharing a house with Ivy, anyway. He felt they were a lot of sound and fury signifying nothing, or at least nothing more than a couple of downed tree branches and maybe a power outage. But something had lumped up the covers down by his feet, and since his wife was currently out of town, that was definitely interesting.
He turned the light on and lifted up the covers, to meet the small bright eyes of his five-year-old daughter.
"Hi, kiddo," he said. "Thunderstorm bothering you?"
Molly nodded. "Billy said I was being stupid," she said, in a tiny voice. " But it's loud."
"It is really loud," Aaron said, "and Billy's wrong. You want to come up here?"
Lightning lit the room briefly, and thunder crashed again. She winced, and shook her head.
"Okay." Aaron turned the light out again—no sense in wasting power—and crawled down under the blankets. Molly huddled close and clung with an iron grip, flinching every time it thundered. Her breath was warm, slightly milky, the way it had been when she was a baby. He missed his children's infancy sometimes, how small and fragile and impossibly tiny they were.
She wasn't shaking, at least. Ivy always used to shake.
"You want to know a secret?" he asked her, after a while.
"What?"
"When your Aunt Ivy was your age, she used to do the same thing," he said. "Whenever it stormed she'd be so scared she'd climb into my bed, or Grampy Nathan's, because she couldn't sleep otherwise."
"Aunt Ivy?" He could hear the disbelief in Molly's voice. "Uh-uh. She's not scared of nothing."
"Of anything," Aaron corrected gently. "She's scared of a lot of things. But she's really scared of thunderstorms."
Molly thought about that for a moment. "As scared as me?"
"More," he said. "At least, when she was little. I don't know how scared she is these days, because she doesn't climb into my bed anymore."
Molly giggled. "She climbs into Aunt Gina's?"
"That's right," he said, solemnly, and she giggled again.
Lightning struck again, bright white through the blankets, but the thunder took longer to come. "Hear that?" Aaron asked. "It's going away now."
"Oh," Molly said. She didn't relax her grip, but the muscles of her back unwound a bit. "Billy will be sad."
"Yeah? He likes thunderstorms?"
She shrugged, shoulders moving under his arm. "I dunno. He was watching it. I think he liked it, maybe. I just got afraid we were gonna flood."
"We won't flood," Aaron said, positively. "Not in a plain old thunderstorm. Maybe—only maybe, you understand—if there's a hurricane, but if it's supposed to get that bad we won't be anywhere that we might flood, okay? I promise. If it might flood, we won't be here."
"Okay," Molly said, and yawned. "Can I stay here tonight?"
"Sure," he said. "But come sleep up on the pillow, okay? It's kind of hot under the covers."
"Okay," she said again, and wiggled up towards the pillow.
She was still there in the morning, cuddled close, her hair tickling the underside of Aaron's chin, her hands still clenched in the t-shirt he wore to bed.