Charlie's POV
Ah, graduation. Sweet, sweet graduation. Freedom. A fresh start. A new outlook. A chance at becoming real grownups!
Just kidding.
It's only been a day. Relax yourself Charlie.
BUT...we have reached those few months; oh yeah, those bittersweet few months leading up to not the end, but what I like to call the beginning of a time that's gonna tear some of us apart-I mean, hopefully to eventually bring us all back together. But you never know what life has in store, I suppose.
And there have already been a number of changes.
"Oh, Zaynie. That nose ring makes me horny. And your new blonde hair? Don't even get me started babe. I'd jump your bones right now if the kids weren't here."
And yet some things never change, no matter what.
It's times like these that I fall in love with. The warm spring-that-are-turning-into-summer nights, rolling around in the grass while wearing Zayn's Minion sweater thing (that he's most definitely glaring at me for getting dirty, but whatever, he'll live) and a pair of white shorts (and my fuzzy socks because hello, me) with my kids.
I myself, have made some progress. I realized along the way that I have a problem with leaving my kids (wow, it sounds way worse when I say it out loud). Let me start again. Whenever I get upset I tend to...distance myself from everything, which I think we all know. And that includes my children. But I'm learning that I shouldn't run and I need to put on my big girl pants and face my issues. It's just not fair to them and who knows what kind of effect it's having on them.
"Mummy!" Li screeches as I tickle her stomach. Marley, being the little daredevil that he is, is playing on the new jungle gym that we just bought for the backyard.
"We're only one day into vacation and you're already a pain in my fucking ass, Harry," I hear Zayn call out, his accent thick as he sits back further into a lawn chair and exhales smoke from his cigarette.
"Oooo," Marley calls Zayn out. "Mummy says that's a bad word, daddy." They really do hear everything.
"Yeah, daddy," Harry adds, smirking, as he sips on a...well to be honest, I'm not sure what it is he's sipping on.
Marley's running in no time-full speed ahead-over to Zayn, as Zayn mumbles a quick apology for his language. But in the process, he takes a tumble, landing smack on his tummy. I jump up at the same time Zayn does, but he starts bolting for him, cigarette dangling from his lips and all, before I can even process what's happened.
"Oh, Christ. Will the both of you sit down?" Niall grumbles. "He's a fucking rockstar, that one. Brush it off, little man. Brush it off."
To say we've been slightly neurotic since the accident would be putting it very lightly. I think Zayn pops a blood vessel every time Mar scrapes an elbow or something, but I don't blame him. Marley's super active and takes more tumbles than the average two (soon to be three) year old. And even though he was given the green light from the doc, we were still advised to take extra precaution with him, nonetheless. "You alright?" Zayn questions, searching his face.
But Marley's a giggling mess by the time Zayn's squatting in front of him and lifting him off the ground. "Shit, that hurted, daddy."
Zayn's lips twist into a smirk as he butts out his cigarette. He tries not to smoke in front of the kids, because one; it's not the best habit, and two; they're at the ages where they question pretty much every fricking thing. "Bad word, bud."
