You Say That It's Hard Standing Still

OOC- uh oh. Language. Be wary.


Keiran's face fell as she came at him, unable to fully understand what she expected. Yes, he was accepting it. Because if he didn't, he would've gone mad and blown the roof off the house. Millie was supposed to let him remain calm so none of that would happen. But instead, she was trying to royally piss him off. And dammit all, it was working.

"I didn't ask if you had done anything because it doesn't matter. You chose him, Millie. You opted in when you could have said no and then come home and yell at me. You could have chosen me but, of course, you bloody well didn't. And now that's somehow my fault? No. I won't stand here and listen to all the things you claim didn't happen. That leave infinite chances  that other things happened. That he inserted himself into my home and didn't even think twice about it."

Should he have just stormed out? Would that have made her happy? Because trying to be nice, trying to ease her guilt or whatever just wasn't working. She wouldn't let him. Now, Keiran was put out to the point of wanting to do exactly as she asked and just chide her until she couldn't find any way to refute his words.

"Of course you care about the shit. Otherwise you would have told me his name, said how long it was. I don't actually want to know either of those things, by the way. Just a fair warning for you." Tossing the sandwich back on the plate, Keiran didn't even feel bad for being unable to try any of it. He hadn't been hungry to begin with; he had just wanted to make things feel normal. But this wasn't normal.

"D'you know what I want, Millie? I want you to speak up next time I do something wrong. I want you to stop being petulant and childish about this. No, I'm not around enough. But I will not turn those kids out because you want me here. Come to the damn school for all I care! I was trying to keep you safe, but all you do is risk our relationship - or whatever the fuck this is now. And don't go about telling me that those kids aren't as important as ours. They're your friends, and I'll be damned if I mess this up because you're lonely. What do you think I am, then? Having the time of my life? How can I when my wife goes around with some other guy, doesn't tell me what the problem is, and gets her kicks from yelling at me after she was the one who betrayed me?"

Shaking his head, Keiran tugged on the ends of his hair with one hand, the pacing having started sooner than it should have. "Okay. I'm not leaving, and I don't really want you to, either. But I was trying to make a point. When this law breaks... I mean, I won't stop you. I'll hate it, but I can't hate you. And no, I won't make it easy for you, but that doesn't mean I want you to stay and - and suffer when you can't live like this."

There it was. Finally, she thought. She folded her arms across her chest, her face darkening as she listened, her eyes fixed upon his face as he shouted, hollered at her. It was exactly what she felt she deserved and it was a show of something which was ultimately what she wanted but as the words set into her she flinched and her arms grew slack, falling back down awkwardly by her sides as a somewhat cowed look began to wipe its way across her face – ironically, too, given that for him to go at her so terribly was all she had wanted. She took a step back, her bum bumping into the counter. She looked at it, instinctively, and took that as an opportunity to avert her eyesight, to hide the shame coating her cheeks read with a curtain of hair.

Millie looked up at him, fury taking over the slight regret she’d been nursing at provoking him into this. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, the mother part of her that had developed the ability to work out a horrendous amount of details all at once registering the need to find the time to get it cut. She threw her arms up, exasperation taking over as he threw out things about the school. She wouldn’t forgive him for this one. Not after his reluctance, not after her being told it was too dangerous, that the Ministry would hurt her. No, that wasn’t good enough. Why now was it alright, laden with children who were a lot more difficult to take around individually than when they were inside of her, to be involved when arguably it was all the more dangerous?

“You bloody hypocrite,” she hissed, full and aware of her own hypocrisy for saying it but unable to find it within herself to worry about it at that moment. “Why now then? What, is it suddenly less dangerous? You know, how could it possibly be dangerous in the first place anyway when you’re using wards made by your bloody cousin on top of wards made by arguably the most paranoid man in the world when it comes to his children and the people he loves on top of aggressive ones by a woman who is the same in both senses? How! You know what, I’m not bloody going. Not now. Screw you.”

“And yes,” she threw at him. “I will be childish about this and I will want you to throw those kids about. I do. Regardless of the fact that they’re my friends because you know, it’s all bad and terrible and boohoo werewolf rights but you’re my husband and I haven’t been selfish. Okay, I’m irresponsible and I’ve done a bad thing to try and deal with it but I’ve put up with this for too long. And this was my bloody idea in the first place too! I miss you, Keiran. And I am petulant because of it. I am childish. Newsflash, I’m eighteen years old! I am not emotionally mature enough to be as bloody isolated as I am and I didn’t know if I was supposed to say anything because as far as I was concerned you didn’t want to talk to me, either.”

Millie picked up her glass of wine and swallowed it back, reaching for the bottle, filling it back up. The bottle ran dry and she scowled at it, shaking it roughly before slamming it down and reaching up on top of the fridge for another bottle out of the rack. She uncorked it with her wand and topped off her glass before setting it down next to the other. She took brief solace in the fact that the bottle she’d started on hadn’t been completely full to begin with but by the by she was still drinking an immense amount and though she recognised this, it didn’t give her the will to stop.

“Do you know what really gets me,” she asked rhetorically. “It’s the fact that even now, when I’m stood here, you don’t bloody believe me. Don’t you understand that I … I could have chosen him. Alfie. There you go, see. A name. I could have chosen him but I didn’t. I am still here, Keiran. Because I am holding out hope like a stupid fucking idiot… y’know, just in case maybe, maybe you might prove me right and actually be … actually look at me like I’m actually me and not a piece of furniture that kind of just wallows here and does kitchen things and washing machine things and has to deal every day with those babies when they scream and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Like maybe one day you might muck in and help because I can’t do it on my own and I shouldn’t have to ask, Keiran. You’re equal parts their parent too and you’re my husband. And we need you more than those students, my friends, yes, but we’re your family and those kids will go and they will have their lives but we’re meant to still be here when the school thing ends and what happens then if we’re not because I can’t anymore. If I don’t get my way by being petulant and childish and I have to be mature and realistic and I have to make the best choice for us? What then?”

Another glass of wine disappeared down her throat and now, finally, she was beginning to grow a little bit unsteady. Bracing herself against the counter she rubbed her hand across her face, a shaking hand lifting more wine into the glass. She watched as her hand trembled on the cool counter and she realised how long it had been since she’d been smashed. Since she’d woken up wrapped around a stranger, tobacco in her hair, the smell of sex and manhattans in the air. She felt ill, in actual fact, at the thought of doing such a thing again. Childish she may be but she had gone past that. She had gone past it all, really. Otherwise, Archie would have still been on that sofa. She couldn’t sustain such promiscuity, such intrigue. She didn’t want it.

“Keiran I love you, you bloody fool.” She sighed. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. D’you really think I looked at him and thought ‘oh well, I’m bored, I might as well see if the grass is actually greener on the other side’? It’s not greener, just in case you wanted to know. There’s nothing green about it. It wasn’t right. You’re my husband and I missed you but we were in such a bad place that I didn’t know if I could even say those words to you. I don’t think I saw you enough in the daytime to pluck up the courage to do so and then he was there and he knew what to do with the twins when I didn’t have the first clue. I was desperate, Keiran. I needed help. Moreover, I wanted for someone to show that they cared for me instead of just saying it.” She rubbed her hand across her face. “But it wasn’t right because it wasn’t you. It would never be enough because it wasn’t you because he’s a psycho and likes sketches more than stand-up but you like stand-up and that was the best, it always was and I bloody well missed you, Keiran. He wasn’t enough. No one will ever be enough because they’re not you and I can’t do it without you. I need you and I am not sorry that I hate that school and I hate those kids because they’ve taken you away from me. I’m not sorry. I’m sorry for what I did. But for that feeling, no way. Childish and petulant? Hell yes, but only because I love you.”

Millie finished off the other glass of wine and pushed the bottle away from her before turning and sliding down the front of the cupboards, landing with a bump on the floor. She winced a little at the feel of the cool tiles against the back of her thighs but she ignored it as she drew her legs up to her chest, winding her arms around them, her index finger absently picking at a scab on her leg. She stared out ahead of her. Hitting her chin against her knees briefly before picking out a speck of mud on his trousers with her gaze that she knew she’d have to take pains to take off when it dried. She wouldn’t mind too much, though, she didn’t think.

“Keiran, sometimes I can’t talk to you. When it’s been a long day or something’s gone awry or when you get all moody because Elijah’s been a pain all day and I just can’t. How am I supposed to then say ‘oh well, err, I’d actually like some attention please and, you know, some help too because I hate this house and I hate being here on my own and I just want you to be here too’ – yeah, won’t work I don’t think.” She shook her head again and brought a hand up to rub at the back of her neck.

“I messed up,” she said finally, leaning back against the cupboard door, closing her eyes, her fingers pinching the bridge of my nose. “But I didn’t mean to – or want to. All I’ve ever wanted is to be with you. And when it seemed like you differed in opinion on that subject, I panicked. I just panicked. I don’t know what I was supposed to do. I couldn’t say anything, I was scared and, you know what, I was out of my mind with fatigue too so I don’t even think I could’ve found the words even if I wanted to – and I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry.”

Keiran couldn't hardly focus on her words, so tempted was he to reach out and steal the wine from her hands. By the time she abandoned it, her words only told him things he already knew or felt. In the end, he sank to the floor in front of her, crouching briefly before sitting there as well.

"It wasn't supposed to go like this," he began finally. "You weren't supposed to care. I mean, it was inevitable that I would. Because it's you, y'know? But I told you day one that I don't know how to show people what I'm feeling. I don't even know why, really. It just... I never acted like it or said anything, but I've been hurt before, too. And that's no excuse, but I can't think of another reason for it. Not really. And I guess that's harder than knowing I messed up. Because at least I knew what I was doing wrong. But I can't give you a good reason for being so useless in that."

Letting out a quiet sigh, Keiran hesitated for a moment before reaching over and tucking a finger under her chin to ensure she looked at him as he continued. Somehow, feeling connected even just in meeting her gaze was better than being two separate parties even as they sat side by side.

"Don't ever think I'm not possessive. I didn't mean that I actually wanted you at the school. I thought that was part of what you wanted, and I'm tired of taking away everything you so badly crave. I never wanted to be that guy. I'm so painfully worried about you three, all the time, that I can't hardly sleep even when I'm home.

"Millie- ... Missie.. This school was a mistake. I knew it was even as I brought it up or got people together. I knew and I still know." Realizing he had been holding her chin far too long, Keiran let his hand drop soundlessly to the tile between them. "I should have suggested it to somebody who didn't have so much to lose."

Keiran's own words slammed into him, his brow relaxing as an apologetic expression took over. After a moment of consideration, Keiran settled on his next move and decided that he wasn't going to wait this time before acting. Reaching out with both hands, he wrapped an arm around her back and slipped the other beneath her knees. As he tugged her onto his lap, he couldn't help but note how little she weighed. The knowledge that she might decide to just shove him away made him all the more nervous, his heart thrumming dangerously. Surely she could feel it; Keiran though it might burst from exertion after everything that night. Instead of giving her the chance to fight him, he settled her and continued on with his poorly-planned (read: spur of the moment) speech.

"I can't back out on it now, though, even if I want to. I have a blast with those kids, but they're destroying me. Destroying whatever it was between us that worked." Dropping his head to her shoulder, Keiran knew he had to make a point of showing Millie that he wanted to be near her. The instant he had gathered her up he had realized exactly what he'd been missing. A desperate sort of feeling grew until he couldn't find it in him to argue anymore.

"Alright, baby. We need to get this sorted." He mumbled, setting his chin atop her head. His fingers wrapped around her thigh as he tightened his hold around her middle with his arm. "Yes, I'm angry. Yes, it was wrong. But it makes sense. If it make you feel any better, I'll kill him on sight," he teased gently, trying to calm her somehow.

"So I know what you want, now. But d'you know what I'd like, Mills? I would really like it if you decided to move with me. You don't have to, but I bought that house we stayed in when we named the kids. I know it's kind of presumptuous of me, considering, but... Well, I just thought you really liked it. It may not fix things, just the house. But we're both exhausted, and you're a little past tipsy. Any more fighting tonight would just make it worse."

"I'd say it was pretty inevitable I'd care too," Millie returned warily, scratching at her temple.

It had been, too. The young woman that had married him surrounded by family members she didn't know well enough to appreciate their presence was not one who knew the real value of a family. She'd had snippets of it. Trent's grandparents had served to keep her safe when they staggered in drunk, high and all the rest of it. Her own home was in shambles. Elliot hadn't been seen by anyone for the best part of two years and then suddenly she was plunged into cold water and into this family that worked. Bridget. Aiden. Kieran. Avery. It was inevitable she'd care. She wanted it too. She'd wanted to be a part of it. To be valued by them.

"I gave up too fast, I spose." She sighed. "Though, not entirely."

She was still there after all said and done. And she was rapidly beginning to feel utterly and helplessly guilty knowing that what she'd done had run so close to being exactly what neither of them could've ever imagined would happen. And she hated herself for it.

When the warmth of Keiran's hand slipped under her chin Millie couldn't help but life her head and though her gaze was infirm she focused on him, finding her hand moving to him, breaking at the last moment though, electing to play with a bit of material that was hanging from the cuff of his shirt.

"It's not quite as bad as that," she managed to raise a smile, albeit a little one and a small joke followed. "I mean, I craved gherkins. You got me them."

Her laugh was a little expulsion of air and she shook her head briefly before fixing her gaze back onto Keiran's earnest expression. She softened instantly when he called her Missie and she wondered how long it had been since he'd done so. It had also felt like a millennia since he'd touched her properly and when he pulled her into his lap she curled her arms around his middle immediately, holding him as much as he held her, both seemingly trying to stop the other from escaping.

Again, at his quip, Millie laughed gently, oddly feeling reassured by it in the strangest of ways. She lifted her hand a little and set it against Keiran's neck, beginning to gently strike the skin there, aware all of a sudden of his thunderous pulse. She looked at him curiously as he spoke, disbelief mounting into ever so slightly drunken enthusiasm.

"Really?" She asked. "That house, really really?" She smiled a little and gained a dreamy look on her face. She already knew what she would do with the house. It was beautiful and the right place for the children to grow up amongst the flowers and the bees and the tall verdant grass. She leaned up and kissed his cheek brightly though she half fell back into his lap when she came back down.

"You're.." Still obscenely thoughtful, Millie knew. Endlessly kind. Not the sort of man you abandon just because you can't take being alone. Millie sighed heavily and hid her face, pressing her forehead against his chest. "I'm so sorry Keiran." She whispered. "I'm so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. God knows what I thought would happen. Like, really, it's ridiculous. What was the point? No point. Stupid. Really bloody stupid. I'm so sorry."

And she was. She couldn't believe what she'd done and she hated herself for it. It was ridiculous now. Sat there with him she couldn't find a good reason to do it again. But gone it was all too easy to give in sorrowfully. Not gone trivially but gone totally which was what it had always felt like. She'd missed him. Tried to replace him. No one would ever be good enough to replace him and:

"I'm not good enough for you," she whispered against his chest. "You're so good Keiran and I am a duplicit witch. Literally. What the hell do you see that's good in me?"

She lifted her head, one hand moving to his shoulder. She rubbed her thumb across his collar bone gently before smudging her lips together. She dropped her gaze, shuddering out a mournful breath of air. Then she spoke.

"Kiss me? ..Please?"

Keiran nodded, having been sure at the time that Millie would want somewhere besides their stupid flat. At least now he knew she would be willing to consider it, which was better than coming up empty and realizing he had been stupid to have got it without asking. “Yeah, well I-“

Her kiss surprised him, and it took a moment to finish his thought. “I probably should have asked first.” It would have made a lot more sense to ask if she wanted the place before going off and purchasing it.

“A Hufflepuff.” He supplied, rolling his eyes at himself, when she couldn’t seem to finish her sentence.

Her next words made him tighten his hold on her, pulling in a deep breath and closing his eyes. “I know, love. But it’s done now. You told me, and that was really brave.”

Keiran liked to think that he had done the same for her over Christmas, when he told the truth about Avery. He could only hope that the issue from that fight hadn’t caused her to consider doing what she had. It could have been his fault all the more for it. Because, regardless of what Millie said, he refused to put all – or even most – of the blame on her shoulders.

“That’s not true and you know it. I’m only like this with you. You have more conviction in a single breath than I do in most anything, Millie. How could I not love you when all of your affection is so strongly directed at the ones you care for? I can’t even imagine what it’d be like if you really chose to leave. If you really retracted what you felt – or, feel – for me.”

Tilting his head to the side, Keiran gave Millie a look that he hoped could show her exactly how glad he was that she had told him the truth. The inner corners of his eyebrows drew together before he ducked his chin and pressed a kiss to her jaw. “You don’t have to ask, baby girl. You don’t.”

His fingers delved into her hair, thumb running over her lower lip, before he closed the space between them to do as she asked. It was the lingering sort of kiss that Keiran was sure had to show Millie how bad he felt about messing things up. About helping to mess things up.

“It’s okay,” he promised, holding her ever closer and leaning back just enough to run his gaze over her features. A sort of dark, blinding possessive streak ran through him as he looked at her. Keiran couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured it out, hadn’t realized what the change in her was or where it had come from. Someone else had been given a chance with his wife, and the anger towards that man hit him belatedly.

His jaw clenched briefly before he gave Millie a once over, dropping his hand from her cheek to rest over her leg. “I missed you,” he admitted quietly, fingers toying with the edge of her nighty. That sentence had never been more true, more honest, and as he swept his gaze up to hers again, Keiran knew his expression had changed. Darker eyes locked on hers and he decided that he could give a damn if they were just sitting on the kitchen floor. She had been lost, but she was his wife and she was wonderful.

“You can’t let me get like that again, Missie. I love you, and I can’t push you like that again.”

With that, and without any real pretense, Keiran leaned forward to run his lips over her neck. He was ashamed of not having shown her the affection that she, by nature, needed, and felt a desperate desire to correct that. It would take time, and persistence, but he could piece it together little by little.

“They’re particularly good finders apparently,” she commented in response, her lips widening into a brief radiant smile that took away some of the tiredness that had become an innate feature within her. It rose up, lifting her eyes and making them look for just that moment a little more alive and as she laughed a little, smoothing her hands affectionately across his chest, she felt that heavy burden, the weight of guilt and of contained anger, separate from within her and split a little. She flicked her gaze across his features, the planes of his face, the broadness of his shoulders, the shirt that she recalled having been a pain to iron out earlier in the week but she was glad now to do so for she realised in the obtuse yellow kitchen light that it really did suit him. Her smile grew wistful, thoughtful, as that crossed her mind and she continued to move her hands gently around, sliding this way and that in faint circles, half smoothing out his shirt, half enjoying the motion of it.

“And you found the house,” she clarified, tipping her head to the side, her hair sliding from her shoulders, sprawling down over her right arm. “Which means you arguably the best Hufflepuff in the entire world. My favourite one, too.” She smiled again, bringing her head back up level as she drew her hands slowly across his shoulders and then down his arms, retracing every smidgen of skin, remembering where each freckle and mole took up residence on his body. “I’m a Gryffindor,” she murmured with a little snort of amusement, her fingers tickling down around his wrists before sliding back up his arms once more, dancing down to his waist before returning to repeat those same steps. She was content in it and felt blessed to be able to do it – to be close again with him, to be able to talk to him properly even if it had been for all of the wrong reasons to begin with.

“Can we keep to the present continuous tense please, sweetheart?” She asked warily, flinching a touch, her hands stilling briefly when he said felt. She looked at him with a gentle expression all the same, blinking slowly, intermittently fluttering her lashes. It was feel. It was always going to be feel because there would never be a time when she wouldn’t love him. Even if because of it she wanted to beat him with pillows or shout at him until the cows came home or on the contrary keep him up all night with kisses and spend a whole day laying on the sofa with him watching films – it didn’t matter what came of it because it would all be because she continued to love him, most ardently.

Millie’s hands swept up to Keiran’s shoulders once more, settling in their usual place just before the juncture where the broadness met at his neck and she leaned into his touch, relishing in the feel of his lips upon her skin, wondering how she had gone so long without him there, spreading kisses across her like an extra layer to keep her warm and loved. Her eyes slid shut as she tried to memorise the way it felt, the way his slightly breeze roughened mouth that so often, she imagined, came together in a small pout – though she doubted he’d ever allow her to call it that – if the students were rowdy after sitting out in the sunshine eating ice creams at lunch. She’d often wondered what he looked like, executing a lesson properly. She herself had never been one for participation in Transfiguration lessons, taking her opportunity there to sit and pick through her box of drooballs. He’d never been uninteresting, she’d just been a terrible student. Now, though, she had a little romance forming around it and she wondered.

But as she felt that little pose of his lips against her skin then finally against her own mouth, his hands curling into her hair in desperate need of a cut, his thumb briefly crossing her lip before it was taken up between his and they kissed slowly, gently, as though the world had just stopped properly for the briefest of moments. The earth had stopped its spinning. The cars outside drew silent and the soft breathing of the twins on the other end of the monitors in the other room fell on deaf ears because for a moment it was just them. Their lips moved, their hands remembering, their bodies recalling each other with perfect clarity. It was as though they hadn’t left, as though time hadn’t passed, as though something bad hadn’t actually happened for either of them. They were just them again. It was all alright. She’d wake up and he’d be there still, breathing softly, just begging to be roused from his dreams so she could annoy him, pepper him with kisses and show him just how much she loved him. Truly.

Millie reopened her eyes when she lost contact with him. She rubbed her lips together, savouring the taste of him there. She lifted her eyes up, meeting his, noticing the way his pupils had dilated, making his gaze seem for the moment to be the darkest of onyx. She opened her mouth, a little shadow of surprise flitting across her features. She rose up a little in his lap when his hand settled on her leg, reacting to the sudden warmth there and the rush that washed through her as she registered where his hand was and what he was flicking at with his fingers. Gooseflesh danced up and she brought one hand to the back of her neck, leaning in gently to brush his lips with hers again, murmuring in return that she had: “missed you more.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. “I… we’re not going to do this again. Ever. I want us to work out. I really, really do and I want us to stay a family and we’ve just… I don’t know what we’ve got to do but I want this. I want you. I want our babies. That’s all I know and I’m willing to do anything to make sure that this, that we, are okay again.”

The first step to that was reconciliation. She gave a little, breathy whine as he attached his lips to her neck, leaving kisses here and there. One hand reached for his shirt, beginning to pop the buttons from the holes while the other took the one of his that rested on her thigh, guiding it up underneath the nighty. Once the shirt was open she spread her hands across his chest, pulling out the rest of the buttons roughly before pushing his shirt off of his shoulders, tugging it off of his arms and tossing it away, vaguely registering the sound of it hitting the cupboard across the room.

“You’re so sexy,” she complained, smirking a little before dropping a kiss to his chest, then another, and another and another. And he was, too, which hit her often at the most inappropriate of times but this was a time when thankfully it was very appropriate to act upon that feeling so hands found his belt, opening it out and unbuttoning his trousers. She was under no illusions as to what would happen and she didn’t care, either. She needed him in that moment as close as humanly possible and there was both a will and a way. They needed to remember what they principally enjoyed about each other – which, let’s face it, wasn’t stimulating conversation above everything else. No, it was each other in the most carnal of senses. It was that passion. That physical love affair. It was back.

Keiran would distinctly remember the grand chuckle he let out in reply, just as much as he would remember his embarrassed shuffling afterwards to get to the other end of the flat when Kelly woke. He actually only made it the first two steps before he turned round and walked back up to Millie. "C'mon, you." He grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist and stealing a kiss.

So down the hall they went, and Keiran peered into Kelly's crib where she was squirming and complaining in her own little words. "Now, Miss Kelly Mae, you have the most... Interesting timing."

A wry smile was sent in Millie's direction, and fifteen minutes later, he was falling onto the bed in their room. "So bloody grateful it's a weekend." Keiran's head fell back onto the pillow, a great sigh leaving him as it did. Regretting his decision to don his shirt once more, he lifted up enough to shuck it and toss it across the room. In the morning, he would complain about it, surely, but just then he didn't care.

"What if," he offered, reaching out and catching her hand to tug her onto the bed and into his arms, "we went out to the house tomorrow?" Keiran turned on his side so he could look down at her and toy with her hair. "The twins can see it. Not that I expect them to object," he added with a joking shrug. "We've got the deed and the key, so we could make a day of it. Or mum could take the kids..." He finished with a more serious shrug.

It would give them a chance, either way, to reconnect in a way beyond the obvious one they had already chosen. As sorely tempted as Keiran was to abandon the conscious world and to delve into that of dreams, he refused to muck things up again. If that meant staying up until Millie slept, he would do so.

Nothing would occur to Millie more as the number one reason to never have any children – tongue and cheek, of course. As they scrambled to right themselves, the rising clamour of their daughter’s scream began to echo through the flat. Millie stole a stray hairband from the top of the kitchen paper stand and threw her hair up in a quick, loose bun before following her husband out from the kitchen into the nursery where while one slept on as though nothing was amiss, the other was kicking and fussing, either warm, hungry or thoroughly cheesed off with the idea of sleeping anymore. She was all three, instead, and Millie hurried off to get some cool milk to deal with the first two and then, after feeding the little one, she checked in on Liam who had, by this point, rolled over, his legs and arms up in the air, before carrying Kelly into their bedroom, deciding to leave the boy unless he too deemed it necessary to wake – which looked highly unlikely at this point in time. There was no chance, either, in getting Kelly to settle back down.

“Oh, you’re a lump, aren’t you?” Millie cooed at Kelly whose whole form was alert and aware of the lights and the colours and the movement of her parents. Millie unbuttoned the legs of Kelly’s baby grow and lifted it off of her arms, tossing it in the direction of Keiran’s shirt before finding out one of the little t-shirts that Elliot had bounded in with a few weeks ago. Typical of him, they were fronted by all of the designs and patterns associated with their favourite Wizarding bands and for a moment the two siblings couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the drooling babies, more interested in terrifying toy animals that sang to them than the musical history they were wearing. At that point, Elliot was a little bummed out but was consoled by the fact that come the time that they were teenagers – and thirty three was definitely still youthful-ish – Elliot could whisk them off to all the concerts he liked.

Kelly had a Weird Sisters top pulled over her head and once her arms were through, she was warm enough but not as swaddled as she had been under the blankets and in the baby grow. Conversely it seemed as though Liam didn’t mind being bundled up at all. It probably felt like a hug – something he had a great affection for which was why Millie felt a little sorry that he hadn’t woken up either but all the same it was a nightmare to try and deal with the two of them, even with an extra pair of hands. Millie had often wondered how her dad had coped because she doubted highly that Lavender had much to do with them in the early days outside of dressing them up in ridiculous outfits and bright orange hats so they could go with her to the weddings she’d been invited to. They were dollies from the beginning whereas Liam and Kelly didn’t suffer fools as lightly.

“Gosh, yeah,” Millie murmured wistfully, closing the bedroom door with a soft click. “I didn’t even realise. Did you know, Kell-Belle?” She asked sweetly, pressing a kiss to her baby’s cheek. Kelly gave a little squeak of acquiesce, probably asserting that her mother was a fool and she had been aware of the day the entire time. Millie took a seat on the other side of the bed and lifted her legs up, balancing Kelly carefully against her, before laying back against the pillows.

“I don’t mind either way,” Millie told him, shifting closer as Kelly found a space for her head in the hollow of her mother’s neck. “However which way you want to do it, I don’t mind at all.” She drummed her fingers gently on Kelly’s back before pressing a kiss to her head. Millie turned her head, looking over at Keiran, a fond smile crossing her face. “I love you,” she whispered. “You too,” she told the baby immediately after, craning her neck to get a proper look at the inquisitive eyes of their daughter. “Gosh, she’s wide awake, isn’t she?” Millie commented, her voice bearing the quiet wonder she felt.

There were these stolen moments when Millie could just embrace her children wholeheartedly, when she wasn’t trying to alleviate damage if both were crying or when she was forced to try and keep them amused lest they burst into tears further. When they were just there, on those few occasions, with no need for her to do anything but just hold them, keep them warm, she knew it was all completely worth it even if she’d be religiously dying her hair every month when she got to her early twenties. It was worth it. They were hard work, no doubt about it, but those moments put it all back into perspective. There was a point to all of this. It wasn’t nonsensical.

“Go to your daddy,” Millie whispered to Kelly, lifting the little girl up over to Keiran, settling her gently atop his chest. Millie’s lips arced into an insatiable smile at the sight. Kelly wriggled for a moment before finding a comfortable place for herself, her little fist coming to rest over her daddy’s heart, feeling for the steady thrum there. Millie moved, curling into Keiran’s side, her arm drifting over his waist, and she pressed a kiss to his chest before letting her head fall against his shoulder, her gaze taking in her daughter whose little mouth opened to let in a yawn.

“You should get a medal,” she commented, swirling her fingers idly across Keiran’s stomach. “You have managed to make some very beautiful babies, my love. Not that I was in any doubt, of course.” She leaned up, smiling a little before kissing his lips, sliding back down to lay once more. Kelly’s eyes followed her mother with a little curious glint and Millie lifted her hand from Keiran’s skin to smooth the downy hair atop her daughter’s head. “That’s right, Kell-Belle, you’re beautiful. Mmhmm. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Millie bopped a gentle kiss on Kelly’s nose and settled back down, for good this time, she told herself.

“We should go and sit in the park, too,” she said softly. “Tomorrow, I mean,” she amended. “And we could sit in the sunshine and get ice creams and I think it’d be really nice. What do you reckon?”

Thereafter, Millie was beginning to feel sleepiness settle upon her. Her hand drifted back down to Keiran’s belly and she closed her eyes for a moment, her breathing beginning to regulate. She didn’t fall asleep just yet. No, really she wanted to stay up, awake and as alert as her daughter for she didn’t want to forget this moment. She wanted to soak it in and really enjoy the fact that Keiran was there again, nearby, and hers.

He was tempted to say that he and Millie should go up to the house on their own, but he didn't want her thinking he was abandoning the twins all over again. Their connection as a duo was only part of what she felt was wrong. At the same time, though, as he watched Millie watch Kelly, he couldn't help it when his mind flicked back to the kitchen. Immediately, he was thinking about all manner of things he shouldn't have concerning his wife and their new house.

"We can sort that in the morning," Keiran decided, turning his head to look at Millie. Her sentiment was returned just as quietly, with an added, "and Liam."

"More awake than I am, for sure," he replied, draping his hand carefully over Kelly when she was settled on top of his chest. The arm Millie found herself using as a pillow bent at the elbow to sweep up and down her back as she spoke.

"Well," Keiran replied fairly cheekily, "I had a little help with that part." Kelly wiggled a little at Millie's attention and be smiled down at the pair of them. "My baby girl is gonna break hearts, isn't she? Liam too, I'm afraid."

Millie suggested visiting the park and Keiran had to admit to being slightly pleased with himself when a new thought came to him. "What if we dropped the twins with Robin tomorrow morning, went by the house, and then took Kelly, Liam and Ariadne to the park after lunch? We haven't done much with her considering we're her godparents. Avery would appreciate it, and you know they get secretly excited over Kells and Liam." Turning to Millie again he added, "if you want. I don't know if things with you and Avery are... Okay, yet. Just a thought. She's not gone back to work yet so she'll definitely be there. I'm pretty sure Robin is part-time besides so he probably woud be, too."

As Millie seemed to settle, Kelly squirmed a bit, hand dancing over his chest now and then. Eventually, though, with his thumb passing across her back over and over, Kelly also drifted. It was only then that Keiran could bring himself to fall asleep. He only woke once during the night, when Kelly threatened to roll off his chest and onto the mattress. Stiffening instantly, Keiran nudged her closer to Millie instead, using both their bodies as a sort of cradle for Kelly to sink into. Crisis averted or not, Kelly didn't seem pleased, so Keiran frowned slightly, trying to remember how Bridget got the pair to calm down. Finally, though, and just as Kelly opened her mouth to complain, he remembered. Ignoring how strange he felt, Keiran bummed out a few bars of his favorite song from childhood and continued until Kelly was watching him silently, blinking heavy eyes and letting out a tiny yawn. Brushing the tip of her nose with his index finger, Keiran offered a whispered, "sleep tight, Kells," and finally let himself relax again.

“Perfect,” Millie murmured, one final yawn passing between her lips before she passed altogether into the dream world she took such solace in. From there on, like her son she slept soundly, breathing slow and steadily in and out through her nose. She became vaguely aware of the wriggling of her daughter, the slight movement of Keiran and the subsequent sound of the song Bridget sang in the early hours but she couldn’t find it within herself quite to wake, sleepiness winning out. Instead, upon becoming aware of Kelly next to her she snuggled closer, breathing in the baby smell that mingled with that of Keiran, sleeping on.

That morning, Millie woke to the sounds of Liam whinnying. She sighed heavily as she was drawn from her dream but pushed back the covers any way, sliding out of bed, finding her feet. She turned a little, tucking the covers back around Keiran and Kelly, the latter of whom had settled into the crook of her father’s arm at some point during the night, and popped a kiss on both of their foreheads before moving carefully out of the room, sliding through the soft, fluffy carpets in their room and the hallway until she reached the nursery where she found her son, loudly proclaiming his dismay at waking up. Millie scooped him up into her arms and cuddled him close, sliding one arm out of her nighty in order to feed him properly and she balanced him carefully before moving into the kitchen where the kettle was flicked on.

Two cups were taken out from the cupboard with her spare hand and she set them down on the counter, shutting the cupboard again before turning over the teabag pot, waiting for the lid that had a tendency to stick on warm days, to fall out onto the top. It did so and Millie picked up two teabags, plopping ne into each cup. She then replaced the lip and put it back on the end next to the sugar pot. Thereafter she turned and leaned against the countertop, watching the world go by out of the window why Liam consoled himself with the first meal – or drink, whatever – of the day. Thankfully, the kettle boiled before Liam finished and she got the tea ready just as he did so which meant she didn’t have to worry by the time it came to patting his back clear of any wind. After sliding her arm back into her nighty she put Liam on her shoulder and balanced him, her hand patting his back gently as she reached for her wand she’d left on the side, sending the cups with a flick into the bedroom.

Having poked the wand behind her ear, Millie continued to pat Liam’s back as she wandered back through into the bedroom, smiling to herself as the teas set themselves down on Keiran’s nightstand. She smiled, rolling back into bed with Liam, and turned to see that Kelly had cracked an eye open. Liam wriggled and Millie propped him up in her arm so that he was next to her sister. Then she slowly wriggled over a bit so they were closer still with only their parents’ arms between them. Millie leaned forward, placing a kiss on Keiran’s shoulder.

“Wake up, beautiful,” she murmured, eyeing the twins idly as they began to babble nothing words to each other. “Wakey, wakey, wakey,” she added, punctuating every word with a kiss to his skin.