Sixty one

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Hannah

"Baba, n-nneed to sleep," Zephaniah mumbled nervously, his little fingers fiddling with the hem of his sweater while he nibbled on his bottom lip.

Zayn looked up, lightly frowning as he had interrupted his conversation with my father and Samuel, Ruth listening like I was doing. "We're not home, Zephy," He whispered, stroking Zephaniah's cheeks.

"But you s-say I sleep at eight, daddy," Zephaniah fisted his eyes, his bottom lip now pouting slightly.

"I know, baba said that, but baba thought we'd be home already," Zayn explained him, staring up into Zephaniah's eyes.

Zephaniah flapped his hands and I noticed his eyes watering. For a moment I wondered why, but then it clicked to me. His routine, his structure. He was pulled out of it and he didn't know how to cope with a situation like that.

I sat down beside Zayn on the couch and nudged his shoulder, my cheeks warming up as his warm eyes bored into mine immediately. "Hey, uhm, I changed my bed this morning, so he can sleep in mine for a while? If it makes him feel better," I whispered, so Zephaniah wouldn't hear yet.

Zayn's lips curled up slightly, a shy expression appearing on his face. "Oh, yeah.. that.. that'd be good for him, I think. It's just.. his planning in his little mind, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." I smiled, standing up. "Zeph, if you want you can sleep upstairs. Would you like that?"

Zephaniah stuffed his pinky into his mouth and nodded, reaching for my hand with his other one. "Daddy," He whispered, I glanced at Zayn

Zayn briefly kissed Zephaniah's cheek, "Sleep for a little while and baba will get you when we go home, okay?"

"Don't forget m-mme, baba, okay?" Zephaniah cupped his father's cheeks and kissed his lips, giving him a cuddle after that.

"I'd never, Zeph." Zayn said quietly, poking Zephaniah's nose, letting him go. I stared at Zayn, watching his eyes, those soft and brown ones, that were full of love when he looked at Zephaniah, the happiness returning in them as he joined the conversation with my brother again.

I smiled. It was what he deserved.

Taking Zephaniah's hand in mine, I brought him upstairs to my bathroom, his little backpack in my other hand. "Did baba bring any pajamas?" I questioned, opening his bag.

Zephaniah's eyes roamed through the unfamiliar bathroom for him, his pink lips parted, "No," He whispered, smiling at me through the mirror.

I smiled back, finding some small joggers and a clean underwear in his bag. "Do you want to wear these?"

Zephaniah blushed and stared at it for a while, "Is for acci-accident but when I don't shower I change m-mmy underwear and clean with w-wwashcloth. I sleep in under-underwear?"

"I get it," I smiled, knowing he showered any other day, and on the days he didn't shower he just had a quick wash up down there and a clean underwear.

Once I helped him with that, I helped him brush his teeth with a new one we had here, as he needed to do that, or his routine would be incomplete, upsetting him.

Zephaniah // z.mWhere stories live. Discover now