Solace's kiss.
During the first week of his firstborn's life, Justin transitions through a lot of moods the way he transitions though most things, with suddenness and violence. He didn't expect the strong feelings of pride or the shame that he's feeling now. He spent so much time over the last few months resenting this baby and being afraid of things that might happen, that he never got to appreciate the journey that brought him here.
Here. Where he's been able to vacation by the sea, marry the woman of his dreams and watch his daughter take her first breaths in this strange new world.
He's selfish, stubborn and cold - like his mother. Aloof, closed off and arrogant - like his father. His first days into fatherhood have been less disastrous then he'd imagined, but he still can't help feeling like she deserves better and that he'll ultimately fail.
He's looking down at his baby girl now. Solace is sleeping in the crib he trusted Margaret to pick out for her. The crib that, thus far, rarely gets used. More often then not, she ends up in bed with her parents and the shocking thing is he likes that way.
He watches her breathe constantly, almost dumbstruck, making observations to himself. (Her chest is so small. She has her mother's eyes.)
"It's amazing," he says to the baby who can't hear him or understand him, even if she were awake, "how much you've taught me already."
He reaches out gently, as though he's afraid his big hand will break her and gently strokes the small dark hairs on top of her head.
"I've been conjuring fire and casting spells for a long time. It made me think I knew what magic was. Every breath you take is magic, little girl. You'll do more magic before you can talk than I can do in a lifetime."
It's getting harder to watch her sleep, now that the tears are in the way.
"I'm sorry it took so long to realize you were the best thing to ever happen to me."
It took seven days for him to gather enough courage to press a little kiss on his daughter's forehead. He's a slow learner at times and Solace has a lot to teach him.
Here. Where he's been able to vacation by the sea, marry the woman of his dreams and watch his daughter take her first breaths in this strange new world.
He's selfish, stubborn and cold - like his mother. Aloof, closed off and arrogant - like his father. His first days into fatherhood have been less disastrous then he'd imagined, but he still can't help feeling like she deserves better and that he'll ultimately fail.
He's looking down at his baby girl now. Solace is sleeping in the crib he trusted Margaret to pick out for her. The crib that, thus far, rarely gets used. More often then not, she ends up in bed with her parents and the shocking thing is he likes that way.
He watches her breathe constantly, almost dumbstruck, making observations to himself. (Her chest is so small. She has her mother's eyes.)
"It's amazing," he says to the baby who can't hear him or understand him, even if she were awake, "how much you've taught me already."
He reaches out gently, as though he's afraid his big hand will break her and gently strokes the small dark hairs on top of her head.
"I've been conjuring fire and casting spells for a long time. It made me think I knew what magic was. Every breath you take is magic, little girl. You'll do more magic before you can talk than I can do in a lifetime."
It's getting harder to watch her sleep, now that the tears are in the way.
"I'm sorry it took so long to realize you were the best thing to ever happen to me."
It took seven days for him to gather enough courage to press a little kiss on his daughter's forehead. He's a slow learner at times and Solace has a lot to teach him.