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Monday, 1 December 2014 17:57The infant won't stop crying.
Hours ago, David Nolan had stopped by saying he had to get to work and that everyone else he phoned hadn't been around. They knew each other through their swordfights and though Porthos doesn't see him as much what with Athos and d'Artagnan around, he'd liked the man when they'd met. And so, panicking but not wanting to say otherwise, he'd accepted charge of the young boy, wishing to hell and back that Aramis was here to help. David had loaded him up with things and left Porthos with a fussing infant who only grew worse once his father had left.
"No, no, no," Porthos begs as he starts to caterwaul again, after having spit up on Porthos' shirt. He maneuvers the child so he can strip it off, tossing it to the side as he starts to slowly walk around the house, bouncing the baby softly as he hums something to him. It takes forty-five ungodly long minutes, but Porthos eventually gets him to quiet down and he shifts the baby up against his torso so his cheek rests against his heart. He's not in the clear yet.
Because even though the baby is settled, he's still making little fussy noises that mean he could go off any minute. If this is what caring for a child is like, then Porthos is definitely, definitely not ready for anything younger than the age when they start to speak.
Hours ago, David Nolan had stopped by saying he had to get to work and that everyone else he phoned hadn't been around. They knew each other through their swordfights and though Porthos doesn't see him as much what with Athos and d'Artagnan around, he'd liked the man when they'd met. And so, panicking but not wanting to say otherwise, he'd accepted charge of the young boy, wishing to hell and back that Aramis was here to help. David had loaded him up with things and left Porthos with a fussing infant who only grew worse once his father had left.
"No, no, no," Porthos begs as he starts to caterwaul again, after having spit up on Porthos' shirt. He maneuvers the child so he can strip it off, tossing it to the side as he starts to slowly walk around the house, bouncing the baby softly as he hums something to him. It takes forty-five ungodly long minutes, but Porthos eventually gets him to quiet down and he shifts the baby up against his torso so his cheek rests against his heart. He's not in the clear yet.
Because even though the baby is settled, he's still making little fussy noises that mean he could go off any minute. If this is what caring for a child is like, then Porthos is definitely, definitely not ready for anything younger than the age when they start to speak.
