Invictus

03: Family

Emily closed her eyes as she felt Vincent running his hand through her hair. His delicate fingers were creating braids that she knew would be beautiful. Vincent always enjoyed doing her hair and he was the only one she could trust to do it. Emily smiled to herself as she caught a glimpse of his expression. His eyes were focused on the task at hand, his actions never missing a beat but when he caught her gaze, his eyes softened. Vincent smiled at her before guiding her head back.

"Eyes ahead, monkey."

Emily rolled my eyes but she did as she was told. "I hate it when you call me that," said Emily.

"I know you do but I think it's cute," Vincent replied, kissing her cheek. She snorted at his tone.

He just grinned. "My little monkey." He cooed.

"How would you feel if I called you a monkey?"

Vincent grinned at her words. "Well," he started as he tied the first braid, "if it's just a word of endearment and not a disparaging nickname then I'm fine with it." He replied playfully.

Peter hummed thoughtfully as he grabbed his glass of wine to drink. He and Benedict were on the couch while Vincent and Emily sat on the carpeted floor.

"What?" Vincent frowned and his head whipped to look at Peter. "Do you have something to say about that?" He raised his brow questioningly at the man.

Peter shrugged, his expression remained unchanged but there was a hint of something resembling amusement dancing within his eyes. "Nah." He replied, shaking his head. He had a smirk playing across his features as his gaze remained locked on Vincent. "I was just about to compliment the braid that you've done on angel, Vince. Very nice."

Emily narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously before she turned to look at Benedict who was just reading his book in silence for a while. "Ben, did Peter hit his head?"

Benedict smiled at that and looked at her. "No, sweetheart, he's perfectly fine."

"Is he sick?" Vincent asked worriedly.

Benedict chuckled and shook his head, "no, Vince. He's not sick." He replied, looking at both of them with amusement.

"All of you are little shits." Peter rolled his eyes. "I can give compliments, you know?" He sneered, finishing his glass of wine in one gulp.

"Don't," Vincent said and narrowed his eyes at Peter when he saw that he was about to open his mouth to probably insult them once more.

"I didn't say anything yet." Peter protested, rolling his eyes before he sighed and slumped back against the couch. "But what I was about to say is that all of you are little shits."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "You said that already."

"Huh," Peter said before shrugging. "Maybe it's because it's worth mentioning it again."

Benedict shakes his head in disappointment. "Can we please stop cursing?"

"For fuck's sake," Peter muttered before he glanced at their eldest brother. "Oops. Sorry, mom."

"I don't remember giving birth to an ugly baby." Benedict deadpanned.

Vincent sighed before continuing to braid her hair. Emily found herself feeling sleepy at the gentleness of his touch.

As she continued to sit still for Vincent, Emily found herself reminiscYou'reout her childhood. Little Emily used to believe that the shapes she saw from clouds would stay until tomorrow. Emily would then tell her discoveries to her late mother, God rest her soul, who would only smile so warmly at her. The next day, the skies would be completely different from yesterday. Emily could have chosen to be upset because of the changes but she was young back then. So innocent. The change of shapes would just mean that her game of guess would repeat all over again.