Alise held her child for the first time. At first, she was surprised by his weight. Her new born, a not quite plump child, was so much more than she had thought he would be, yet his body was light. The mother hated herself for thinking about this, but the way a living, breathing child sat was so different than her first child. Just the way it's muscles moved in response to hers, even now, as his cries dimmed and he drifted off to sleep with his face buried in her chest, Ezra Rusnak was utterly alive.
They sat, together, quiet. The woman ran her fingers through his dusty red crop of hair, down to his warm, pudgy face. Her son was so beautiful, incredibly so. Alise could see herself in him, she could see Sacha, and Matthew, and traits she couldn't place. If Sacha was here, she doubted she'd let him hold his son for long; Alise fear she was already addicted to her child.
Closing her eyes, Alise took a deep sigh. Sacha. He should have been informed. He should have been here. As much as Alise hated to admit it, the man was her life, her husband, the father of her child. It was lonely here, without someone to share the moment with. Maybe, just maybe, when she returned home, she'd write an owl so she could see her favorite red heads together.
"Ms. Alise? Are you alright?"
Alise looked up at the healer, furrowing her brow in confusion. The healer gave a knowing smile, shaking her head as if she had seen this all before. "You're crying, Ms. Alise,"
The Czech woman raised a hand to her cheek, touching the warm liquid on her cheek. "Oh, I guess I am," she whispered, glancing down at her son, "I'm just happy, I guess,"
They sat, together, quiet. The woman ran her fingers through his dusty red crop of hair, down to his warm, pudgy face. Her son was so beautiful, incredibly so. Alise could see herself in him, she could see Sacha, and Matthew, and traits she couldn't place. If Sacha was here, she doubted she'd let him hold his son for long; Alise fear she was already addicted to her child.
Closing her eyes, Alise took a deep sigh. Sacha. He should have been informed. He should have been here. As much as Alise hated to admit it, the man was her life, her husband, the father of her child. It was lonely here, without someone to share the moment with. Maybe, just maybe, when she returned home, she'd write an owl so she could see her favorite red heads together.
"Ms. Alise? Are you alright?"
Alise looked up at the healer, furrowing her brow in confusion. The healer gave a knowing smile, shaking her head as if she had seen this all before. "You're crying, Ms. Alise,"
The Czech woman raised a hand to her cheek, touching the warm liquid on her cheek. "Oh, I guess I am," she whispered, glancing down at her son, "I'm just happy, I guess,"
Wed May 21, 2014 2:20 am by Guest
» testing testing
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