A Few Weeks Later
Daylight nestled her face in through the slats in the blinds at a gradual, almost hesitant pace, as though she was loath to break the spell of peace that had fallen around the leafy house nestled into the Galway countryside. When she entered the master bedroom, creeping in as quietly as she could, she spread her tendrils of light over the form of a witch very much awake, indeed. More awake, even, than the birds who had resumed their songs in the small hours, never quite having stopped in the first place. Yet, this woman was not as plagued by nightmares as she had been when the sunshine had found her in the last few weeks. Tormented. Terrified. Desperate to sleep. Instead, like her house and the man asleep against her, his head buried in the crook of her neck, one arm flung across her middle, she was completely at peace, an easy smile even playing at her lips as she drew her fingers through the dark hair she so loved.
The contentment on both of their faces belied the lingering signs of strain that purveyed them in their wakeful hours. He looked as though he breathed easily, his heart a steady pace, utterly able to relax in the cocoon of warmth created by his wife and the duvet they had gathered under the night before. Younger, almost, the sunshine thought. That's what he looked. Carefree, on the precipice of his dreams, somewhere on the downward slope from what was fantasy to what was real. But what was real was not horror-wrought anymore. What was real was as good as dreams. What was real was finally beginning to soothe their wild hearts and settle their frames into truly relaxing. And indeed, it was impossible to remain ill at ease for long as the flowers bloomed around them and as their children played, mischief in their eyes. As spring's charms brought the promise of summer, all seemed right in the world and no cause had led to the entertainment of it being otherwise.
The sunshine had also wiggled into another room, one with its image painted on the walls, sparkling down over safari animals. The sunshine thought that the elephant looked somewhat lopsided, a sentiment that had been expressed by the Bulgarian man who had committed it to the hard canvas. It roused a smirk from the witch in the other room every time she saw it, recalling with great clarity the days and nights she had spent trying to make their house a home. But inside the safari room, three little people were decidedly rather awake. None cried. The eldest were already in the throes of escape, wriggling out from under the covers and tumbling onto the carpet. The youngest was a little more lethargic, content to snuggle amidst her sprawling teddy collection, her favourite being the hippo her papa had gotten for her. Knowing that her siblings were on the move, however, she kicked back the covers and rolled out of bed, lowering her feet tentatively to the floor. Their mother had long since dispensed with railings, seeing no sense in it when they would climb them regardless -- or, at least, the impish little boy would and his sisters would certainly follow after witnessing his success. It was easier to let them wander if they desired, with her watchful tendrils of magic fluttering about, making sure no harm came to them.
Their destination was invariably always the same. A short toddle across the landing to the bedroom that the sunshine had already visited. Once the littlest was cajoled into moving, they picked up their teddies and traipsed out of their room and into the next, both doors always kept slightly ajar for such purposes. They filtered in, the eldest of the girlies dragging her blanket along with her, and their mother turned her head, smirking a little at their fresh, sleepy faces. Like clockwork, the red lights on the alarm left unset clicked over to seven just as Liam reached the bed, dutifully turning around to present the back of his shirt to his mother for her to take hold of.
She could've laughed. Would've, too, if Keiran had been awake. She pulled at Liam's top and lifted him up onto the bed. He landed with a little bounce on the mattress and grinned toothily at her before beginning to wriggle underneath the duvet. Kelly wasn't a moment behind and, between them, the twins helped Darcie up. The three then cuddled into their mother's side, little cherubim and teddy faces peering at her as she took each one in, and then the beautiful features of her husband, memorising the moment and the way she felt: entirely irrevocably in love with her family.
"Papa's tired," Kelly assessed, her voice a pretty whisper.
"He'll wake soon," Millie assured her, reaching with her other hand to smooth a stray curl from her daughter's face. Her own voice was thick with sleep as she kept it low, not wanting to rouse him any sooner than he wanted to.
"Are you excited to go to to your nanna's this afternoon?" She asked, earning grins from the children. "You'll see Livvy, too, I bet."
"And Fin?" Liam asked eagerly, clutching hold of his frog.
"I don't see why not," she considered, tickling her fingers across his cheek.
Her eyes flicked down to Darcie, whose head was resting against the arm that her father had cuddled around her mother. Millie smiled softly, watching as the little girl's eyes grew heavier. Kelly got herself more comfortable and Liam propped himself against her. It mustn't have been a comfortable position but the pair seemed content enough, snuggled close to their respective toys. Millie let go of a little laugh that was more of a hum in the back of her throat than anything else and then let her head rest against her husband's, her fingers loose in his hair.
Sleep claimed them all, then. The peace that had taken its hold on every corner of the house absorbed them, too. And so, bundled under the covers, the Hayes family slept on as the sunshine danced around their home, filling every room and, ultimately, twinkling down over them, too.
by 
