Work Text:
Red. A tiny fist holds the crayon with a firm grasp. The tip is dragged across the paper with the precision of a 4-year-old, leaving behind a block of colour, made up of a tangle of shaky red lines.
Orange. The red crayon is carelessly dropped, and the little hand forms a fist around a new one. An orange-coloured tip now follows suit and leaves behind another set of shaky lines that form an orange block on the paper.
Yellow. As fast as it had been picked up, the orange crayon gets dropped and replaced by its yellow counterpart. A toddler’s fist has it in tight grip and tangles the tip’s lines over the paper, adding a yellow block underneath the previous ones.
Green. The yellow crayon misses the box and starts rolling off the table. The tiny hand doesn’t notice, it is occupied already with creating a block of green tangles. A bigger hand reaches in and catches the crayon before it falls, carefully returns it to the box.
Blue. The tiny hand drops the green crayon and reaches for the blue one, but the bigger hand stops it. A bigger finger points to the crayon that starts rolling off, and the tiny hand understands, carefully sets it down in the box before grabbing blue. A block of tangled blue lines is formed below the green one.
Purple. This time, the tiny hand makes sure to return the crayon to the box. The fist forms around yet another one and adds a tangled purple block to the picture. The shaky hand of a toddler drags the final line off the paper, over the table. The bigger hand softly closes around the tiny one, stops it.
The paper is fully covered in colour. A row of coloured blocks, all made of shaky tangled lines. Carefully selected colours, from top to bottom.
Both hands move together, the big one still softly gripped around the tiny one, and together they return the purple crayon to the box. The tiny hand stays still, it doesn’t reach for another colour.
“Are you finished?” An adult man’s voice asks, and the big hand lets go of the tiny one.
“Finished,” a toddler’s voice repeats, and the tiny hand reaches back. A tiny hand with tiny fingers clings onto an adult’s sleeve.
“What is it?” The adult’s voice asks. “What did you draw, Jack?” The bigger arm that the bigger hand is attached to now softly reaches around the toddler’s body, holding them close on the adult’s lap.
“Da-da,” the toddler’s voice says, and a tiny index finger pokes the adult’s chest.
“Me?” the grown-up voice asks.
A small head moves enthusiastically in an energetic nod.
“You,” the toddler’s voice speaks, and both tiny hands move up to point at something that isn’t there above the adult’s shoulders. “Wings”
“You drew my wings?” The adult’s voice asks, and it sounds touched.
Again, a small head moves in an enthusiastic nod.
“Drew your wings,” the young voice says. “I like your wings”
The bigger hand reaches up and ruffles through the toddler’s fluffy hair.
“I didn’t know you could see my wings,” the adult voice speaks. It’s a deep voice, but you can hear the fondness in it.
“I can,” the toddler’s voice announces proudly. “I like them. They’re funny! They look really fluffy. And bouncy. I love it when they hug me.”
“You can feel them when I hug you?”
“Feel them,” the young voice says, and the little head nods along. “But I can’t touch them. I want to touch them”
“Maybe that needs a bit of time,” the grown-up voice says. There is a fond smile on the adult’s face, a pair of deep blue eyes is softly gazing down on the toddler in the man’s lap.
“Mmh,” the toddler’s voice hums. The small head leans back against the adult’s chest.
“My favourite is when they’re doing that funny little flap,” the young voice adds in a mumble. “That always looks like they’re happy”
“Does it?” the adult’s voice asks. “When do they do that?”
“Dean makes them do it,” the toddler’s voice mutters. “He doesn’t do it, but I think they like him. They’re always reeaally excited when you hug Dean”
“Yeah,” the adult’s voice chuckles. “Yeah, I think they do like Dean. I like Dean a lot as well”
“Me too,” the young voice mumbles, and the little face is buried in the adult’s chest.
The bigger arms pull around the little body, pull it closer. A bigger hand rests softly in the little head’s hair.
“I love you, Jack,” the deep grown-up voice whispers into the little toddler ear.
“I love you too,” the quiet child voice mumbles into the adult’s chest.