sillykettleburn:

“Do you still want me to sign up as he father?” he asked, silently, because it so obviously wasn’t his part. And even though he did not want anything else. Her black hair and blue eyes.. He could not care less. She could be his girl.

Daddy’s little girl.

He stood, holding her close as Madame Pomfrey arrived with a little.crib. He put her in it carefully and then he turned back to Florence. “I think there’s someone else.who deserves some love as well.” he smiled.

He stroked her cheek.before settling next to her on the bed, embracing her with his warmth and strong chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, kissing her cheek.

“You did great, Flo.” he mumbled softly as he just held her. She should sleep. He suddenly felt the responsibility for.their wellbeing down upon them as he held Florence as if she was just as breakable as little Alba Lorah.

He smiled.

“You know..” he whispered. “My mother… Lorah - my mother’s name, she.. She kind of looked the same. Black hair and blue eyes. I did not inherit her looks but..” he smiled. “Maybe Alba did.”

And he offered himself and her a blissful lie. If he just thought about his mother it would not remind him of Avery as much.

“Of course I do,” Florence glanced up at Sil, her eyes wide. “I mean,” She paused, biting her lip uncertainly. “That is, if you still want to.” And she did, Florence wanted Sil there, to help her, be with her. To stop her from making mistakes and just to lie next to her and night, wake up next to in the mornings. Maybe it wasn’t marriage, but it would be something… it would be them.

Then Poppy came with an apologetic smile and Florence had to remind herself that Alba needed sleep. Because a part of Flo didn’t want her little girl to go, even if it was just to her crib next to Flo’s bed. The young witch was use to have Alba safe within her. Any distance at all seemed like too much.

But the feel of Sil’s arms surrounding her stood as a reminder of just how much Flo had been through that day, of how tired she actually was. Curled up beside him, Florence didn’t think she had the energy to get up. Her eyes closed and Florence found that opening them seemed like an impossible task.

“My mum had black hair, too.” Florence sighed, feeling as though she could fall asleep in Sil’s arms there and then. “Though, her eyes were green.” It had been a long time since Florence had spoken about her mother, Clarissa. In fact, speaking of her now made Florence flashback to her time in labour, when she had screamed for her mother.

Even now, feeling the love a mother would feel for her daughter, Florence had to wonder about her own mother. Had she felt the same? Regardless, Florence had only just begun t feel the ache of her dead mother, an ache that she had for so long, bottled up. Tentatively, Florence peaked an eye open, looking up at Sil with hesitant eyes. “Do you miss her? Your mother, I mean.”

sillykettleburn:

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sillykettleburn:

It was strange.

Because when he held the child, he suddenly realized it was his. His child.

Maybe not. by blood, but by everything else. And the moment he held her something in hie mind clicked and he blinked. And he did not know why he cried, why there were warm tears on his face, dripping down silently, only noticable when he sniffed for a moment.

And he laughed, softly, holding the little think, whispering.

“Hey..” he mumbled. “Hey girl..” and the baby stirred to his chest, curling up against him, reacting like she had done to his hand while being in Florence’s stomach. Calm, though he stroked his thumb over her cheek.

“Stay awake little one..” he whispered. “Don’t fall asleep.. don’t.”

For a moment he was so affraid that something so tiny was a one time thing and that she would be gone the moment she fell asleep. That she would not wake or…

“Flo..” he said softly. “She is beautiful.”

When Florence had the first falls of Sil’s tears, the young mother was at loss with what to do. One look at the child was enough to give it all away, the blue eyes, the black hair. She looked like Avery. A part of Florence had hoped that Alba would have looked like her, at so that she would never be able to tell who her biological father was.

But then Sil whispered how beautiful she was and Florence smiled proudly, as if her perfectness was down to her alone. “Well,” Florence grinned, moving to place her lips over the fallen tears that clung to Sil’s cheeks, kissing them away. “I am incapible of proudcing a child no less than beautiful.”

But even as she said it, Florence eyes slipped to Alba again, watching her dozing form curl against Sil, just as attracted to his heat as Florence was. It was like they were moths to Sil’s flame, drawn to his warmth. “Let her sleep,” Florence mumbled, nuzzling closer into Si’s neck. “She’s had a busy day.” Though Flo didn’t know if she was talking about herself, Alba or both.

“It suits her though, doesn’t it?” She mumbled, gently touching her finger to the palm of Alba’s hand. “Alba Lorah, I mean.” Sitting there, next to Sil and her daughter, Florence couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness, a feeling as though she was complete. Now, Florence had a daughter to whom, she would give the world to.

sillykettleburn:

He had been sleeping. Maybe he felt.guilty for the fact she had left without him noticing - surely when he was taken by Bertha who told him she already gave birth. He felt horrible.

“Florence, I…” he came walking into the infirmary apologizing but when he saw her holding the little thing he stopped dead in his tracks.

“T-thank me?” he said, his eyes clung to the little creature. So this was it. What he signed up for. A child. A daughter. “Thank me for what?”

He settled on the edge of the bed.

His hand found his way to her hair and he glanced around whether Avery had been here. But he just saw Wendy and he was oddly grateful. Looking at the girl, he saw she was not his. Blue eyes, Black hairs. That would never be his daughter by blood. And maybe that was not bad.

With pureblood father it would be better life for her. But he would sign up as her father. He would be the one to take care of her and it filled him with warmth.

“Can I.. can I touch her?”

“For stopping me,” Florence glanced down at Alba in her arms and thought, you were going to give this up. Give her up. And the thought made her sick, sick to the point that her stomach twisted into a painful knot. Now, with the small bundle of perfection in her arms, Florence couldn’t think of a world with Alba not existing within it.

Looking over at Sil, Florence smiled, feeling her eyes burn again from her swelling emotions. “For stopping me from making the biggest mistake of my life.” Right now, it didn’t matter to Florence who the father was, whether Sil had been there or not. Alba was safe, perfect and healthy, though Pompry wanted to keep an eye on her due to her being a couple of weeks early.

The little thing in her arms stirred, tiny fingers moving through the air with an odd sort of wonder on Alba’s small, round face. “Yeah,” Florence eased herself up, her head tilted, hair spilling over one shoulder as she moved, her eyes never straying too far from her daughter. “Here - hold out your hands.”

Carefully, Florence placed Alba into Sil’s hands, their largeness seeming to swallow the tiny little thing up. Making sure that he was holding her right, Florence hovered beside them, dipping her head until she was curled up beside SIl’s sitting form, her head resting against his shoulder as she gazed down at her baby in his hands. “I didn’t think humans could be so small,” She confessed softly, her breath ticking Sil’s shoulder. “Or so perfect.”

 It was strange, even for Flo, to hear that maternal love filling each word she uttered, being ate the core of her every action. She was no longer a healer, no longer the school whore - Florence was a mother. And it showed.

Florence watched as a small mouth took milk from the bottle offered to her, gazing in wonder at the small form that drank contently in her arms. In the bed next to hers, Wendy slept, exhausted from the da’y’s events. It wasn’t every day that your best friend gave birth. But, eyeing Wendy now, Florence had a growing suspicion that her friend would follow her pretty soon. Grinning, Florence couldn’t help but think that Wendy was going to give her hell, but her smile slipped as she turned back to Alba.

Never, ever in her life, had Florence seen something so perfect. The child was tiny, to the point that even Flo, who had always considered herself to be small, felt as though she could break the delicate little thing with the slightest touch. Alba’s creamy pale skin had taken on a slight blush at her cheeks, reminding Florence of a rose petal that was starting to bloom into colour.

Leaning back, Florence allowed her eyes to close for a moment, feeling so unbelievably tired. She wanted to sleep, wanted to ease the pain that still resided within her, even if it had muted to a dull throb. Russet waves tumbled out in a ragged mess, some strands to clinging to Flo’s cheek, yet her hazel eyes held a glow, shining through her worn and exhausted pale face. The sight of her daughter alone was enough to make Florence want to stay awake. It was as though closing her eyes, falling asleep, would make it all a dream.

The doors to the Infirmary opened and Florence saw the little blonde girl, Bertha, return with Sil in tow. Insanely, Florence felt herself tear up again, her eyes hazing over. It was just her stupid hormones, she told herself, but regardless, a big smile broke across her lips as she gaze over at him. Something close to pride fluttered in Flo’s chest, as she looked down at Alba again, removing the empty bottle from her lips. “I never got to thank you, you know.” Florence glanced over at Sil, her lips settling into a soft smile.

sillykettleburn:

sillykettleburn:

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OOC, YES PARA TIME! WELL THE BIRTH! That Sil sees Alba for the first time? You mean like that?

YESYESYESYESYES. YOU WANNA START OR SHALL I?