Chapter 63 - If You Ask Nicely

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When I opened my eyes the next morning, I was greeted by the high pitched chirps of a bird that sounded like it was perched right outside the window, and the slow, monotonous ticking of the antique grandfather clock that stood in the far corner of the room. The room only had two windows, but they were large in size and were on the wall that ran parallel to the bed so the sun shone right in, casting its warm rays onto my face. I didn't immediately get up, nor did I want to. The sheets were obviously Egyptian cotton, the bed was most certainly memory foam, and the room contained such an air of tranquility that I'd be crazy to want to leave.

As I laid, sprawled out beneath the sheets of the queen sized bed, I couldn't help but notice the impression of another person next to me. I eased my head over onto its side and looked to my left to see my son shifting his position slightly, stirring from sleep. I smiled as I drank in the sight of him, my beautiful baby boy. Sometimes I still couldn't believe that I had created someone so breathtaking. His body, unlike mine, was scrunched up into a kind of ball, his arms wrapped around his legs, hugging them closely to his chest. His lips in a pout, twitched at the corners as tiny breaths escaped them. His black hair was messy and disheveled, wavy strands sticking out in all directions. His pale skin glowing from the light of the sun.

I stayed like that, just watching him, until his little eyelids finally fluttered open, revealing those gorgeous brown eyes that he had gotten from his father. He didn't say a word, only made grunting noises and small moans as he stretched his body out across the bed, taking full advantage of its enormity.

"Good morning sleepy head." I cooed, leaning over and planting a gentle kiss in his hair. I turned my body onto its side and used my elbow to prop myself up.

"Mowing mama." he yawned in a groggy morning voice that was all his own.

"Did you have a good sleep? Any cool dreams?" I asked, still keeping my voice's volume low. 

"I-I had a dweam that I was a piwate." he answered as he positioned himself up.

"A pirate! Like Jack Sparrow?" I asked excitedly, watching as his eyes smile before his lips.

"Yeah! And we found buwied trweasure and had sword fights and beated all the bad guys!" he raved, jumping up and attempting to reenact his dream.

"Well ya know, there is only one thing that can defeat a pirate." I said with a sly grin on my face. Jack stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me with a quizzical expression on his face, anticipating my answer.

"There is only one creature, fearsome and mighty enough to defeat a scurvy buccaneer." I continued in a faux pirate accent, inching closer to Jack on my hands and knees, preparing to pounce at any moment.

"What?! What is it mama?!" he finally exclaimed, the excitement too much for him to hold in any longer.

"The kraken!" I screamed, making my move and scooping him up into my arms. He fought wildly against me, but mom is always stronger, and soon laughter was erupted from his throat as I used my fingernails to tickle all over his tummy. 

"Mama! Mama!" he squealed, trying to push me off, but it was still no use.

After I decided that he'd endured enough torture, I released him and gently pushed him towards the edge of the bed. "Alright, but now it's time to get up my little pirate. Now go potty and brush your teeth, I'll have your clothes ready when you come out."

Thankfully, he was in such a good mood that he didn't have any desire to argue with me on it. He just ran to the bathroom and peeked around the corner once more with a playful smile on his face, before slamming it shut.

*****

When I had finished getting Jack dressed and ready, I put him in front of the TV so I could get myself showered and dressed. The TV was a challenge, like it had been the first time I was in England. Scrolling through all the channels and bizarre shows brought back memories of lying in Liam's bed with my ankle propped up on a pillow, angrily searching for familiar shows while Liam simply laughed at my frustration. I would be lying if I said that I didn't miss him sometimes.

Hidden Beneath Brown Eyes (A Zayn Malik Fanfiction)Onde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora