Altered. [Harry Styles]

02.

TW: Mentions of domestic abuse & alcoholism

Josie.

"Higher!" Evie has a great understanding between her inside voice and her outdoor voice, and when she's outside, half the town can hear her.

"Pump your legs like I showed you, it will help." I remind her from the swing next to her, staying out of the way. Cole was pushing her this time around, and for the first time in months, he's up before noon without a hangover.

"This is as high as I can push you, pumpkin." A genuine smile is plastered on his face, a sober clarity twinkling in his eyes. "You're already half way to the moon."

"I want to go to the moon! My teacher said it's made outta cheese!" Her little eyes go wide, and she starts pumping her legs harder and faster.

"Your teacher said that?" One of his eyebrows popped up, momentarily questioning the education she was getting.

"It's a picture book they read in class last week." If he wouldn't have ripped up her class syllabus in a drunken rampage, he would have known that...

But at least today, he's trying.

He's trying to pretend we're a normal family, if that's even what you would call us.

He's trying to ignore the bruise that's turned yellow near my eye socket, and every other bruise he's left on me this week.

Hes trying, and I'm trying to pretend that it's enough.

"Huh." He nods, taking a step back now that her swings were getting bigger. Instead, he comes and stands behind me, hands gripping both of the chain links holding my swing up. "I'm glad you're around to know all of this." With a subtle pull on the chains, he brings me backwards, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

The positive affection nearly has my tumbling off the swing, but my hands rest on the chains right below his. "What's that for?" I tilt my head back to look at him, my head pressing into his chest.

"For taking such good care of her." He flashes me a softened grin, one I hadn't seen in a long time. My heart starts to feel bubbly and warm, a small feeling of appreciation rattling my system. "And me, too." He brings his right hand off of the swing, reaching down to brush a few loose strands of hair out of my face. "Evie and I are lucky to have you."

A warm glow of sunshine matches with the butterflies coursing in the pit of my stomach, stirring up the slightest bit of confidence. I can't pinpoint the last time I've heard words like this come out of his mouth, or when I've felt so good about myself. This was the longest we've gone without a fight, and honestly, as much as I hate to admit it, I was starting to make mental bets on how much longer this would last.

Our prior record was about two and a half hours, but we're creeping into hour four. It's awful of me to let my mind jump to these kinds of conclusions, but when it comes down to it, he's stuck in the vicious cycle of being an addict, and that may be one he never breaks.

"I was just going to say the same thing." I shove away my thoughts so I can enjoy his affection. I send him a soft smile, and in return, he dips down to press a kiss to my forehead.

"Let me push you." Cole suggests before taking a step back, pulling on the chains to pull my swing backwards.

Evie is still going strong, pumping her legs and giggling as she goes higher and faster. She was in her own little world, but she tends to always be. I think it distracts her from all of the constant fighting. Her imaginary friends seem to start appearing when the fighting turns physical. She always calls in one for positive reinforcements, and sometimes when the dust settles, she stumbles out to find me with one supposedly in tow.