Work Text:
The glowing crackle of the fireplace warmed its surroundings. Cards labeled with the same number were scattered across the kitchen top in a deceivingly orderly fashion. Dinah was seated comfortably in her favorite recliner, an old academic novel propped open in her lap.
Quentin laid back on the couch, his feet resting off the edge. He sipped his beer as he watched his girls fumble around with a miniature book.
“No, Sara,” Laurel used her tiny hands to snatch the book from even tinier hands. “You read it, not eat it.”
Sara frowned and attempted to grab it again, her pudgy hand pushing the book down.
“Daddy!” Laurel whined as she scooted away from her sister. “Sara won’t let me read.”
“Baby,” Quentin laughed as he set his beer down. “You can’t read.”
“Yeah I can!” Laurel stuck her nose in the air and pointed at the cover of the book. “It say “the”.”
“It says ‘the’,” Dinah corrected as she flipped a page. “And I’ll teach you more words tomorrow, I promise.”
“But she won’t leave me alone,” Laurel complained as Sara nibbled on the edge of the book with the few teeth she had.
“She loves you and wants to play,” Quentin assured her, reluctantly pushing his feet to the floor.
Laurel glanced at her baby sister and offered a small smile, almost apologetic. Sara, in return, gave her a sloppy kiss.
“She always kisses you but never me,” Dinah’s tone held mock jealousy. Laurel giggled.
Quentin turned his head just enough to see the grandfather clock that stood tall and tough behind him. “Time to go to bed,” he announced, running a hand through his (full head of) hair.
Laurel pouted, arms crossed. “Can’t I stay up? It’s my birthday.”
Her father shook his head. “It won’t be your birthday much longer.” Laurel didn’t budge, with a small frown on her lips and her big, brown eyes looking up at him. Quentin sighed.“Why don’t you go pick your favorite teddy bear to go to sleep with?” he suggested.
Laurel’s eyes lit up and ran towards her new collection of toys, skimming over dolls, bears, cats, and dogs. She glanced at Sara, who squealed and pounded her fists on the ground.
Laurel looked back at her new toys and bit her lip. Quentin stopped himself from laughing at the pensive look his daughter had. Then Laurel looked back at her sister, walked towards her, half lifted her, and half dragged her to Laurel’s room.
Quentin and Dinah shared confused expressions before deciding together to follow their daughters.
“Whatcha doing, baby?” Quentin asked as the family entered the purple themed room. It was a dark, strong purple that laid upon the walls since a few months before Laurel was born. Dinah had insisted she wanted their first child to have the color of royalty. “She’s going to be a queen one day,” Dinah always gushed. Quentin doubted she was wrong. Laurel had started walking at nine months and talking sentences by thirteen. There was so much potential in his oldest daughter and he couldn’t be more proud. Sara was a bit slower, but he didn’t mind.
“Doing what you said,” Laurel replied, setting the blonde baby next to her bed. She climbed onto her bed and reached for Sara - which Quentin took upon himself to place Sara on the bed.
“Would you care to elaborate, sweetie?” Dinah asked, letting her body rest against the doorframe.
“What’s ela-”
“Explain,” Quentin cut off. “Mommy likes to use big words.”
Dinah smirked.
“You said to pick my favorite teddy bear,” Laurel continued, lifting the comforter just high enough for Sara to crawl into. “So I did.”
“You think your sister’s a teddy bear?” Quentin asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.
Laurel shrugged. “Well-,” Laurel started before being interrupted by her giggling sister.
Sara crawled to the pillow and slapped it repeatedly, saliva just about dripping from her chin. Laurel placed a hand on Sara’s small back and pushed her down gently, so she was laying flat on her stomach, and carefully pulled the blanket over Sara and herself. Laurel wrapped an arm around her baby sister’s waist.
“She’s my favorite. My Sar-Bear.”