unsure fingers braiding hair for the prompts and is giving madney vibes
18) unsure fingers braiding hair
A year after his daughter is first born into the world, Chimney sits on their sofa and braids his girlfriend's hair.
"You're getting pretty good at this," Maddie murmurs, eyes half-shut as she leans against him. There's an easy trust in the way she does this, the way she allows him to hold her up, that punches the breath out of him if he thinks about it at all. So, instead, Chimney huffs a laugh into her vanilla-scented shampoo, watches the long strands of her hair weave through his fingers like silk, like something proprietary.
"You haven't seen the results yet," he quips, basking in the little giggle that she gives in response. Over, under, over. Slow and careful, strand over strand, weave over weave.
"You'll be fine," Maddie says, easily and completely. "You're a paramedic, you're good with your hands."
And there it is again, that quick belief, the way she looks at him and sees someone utterly trustworthy, competent, good. Chimney weaves the next twist of her braid very, very carefully.
"I am, aren't I?" he replies, flirtation sliding into his voice, just to see the pink at the tips of her ears.
"Shush, Howie, you know what I mean."
"Do I?" he teases a little more, ducking down to press a kiss to the side of her neck, reveling in her shivery little sigh. It's not going anywhere, not right now, when Jee-yun is asleep in the next room and probably preparing to start crying any second now. Chimney makes a mental note to ask Buck to babysit next shift, he's been complaining about how the Lees got too many turns. Right now, though, they're Jee-yun's parents before they're anything else, impossibly together and undoubtedly her's.
"You do," Maddie says, leaning into him regardless. "Have you been practicing?"
Chimney freezes for a moment, and Maddie twists a little, forcing him to move his hands a little to keep ahold of her hair. "Chim?" she blinks at him, owlish and assessing, clever and too-quick. "Wait, you have been practicing?"
A little laugh, the most beautiful thing in the natural world, and the unnatural parts of it too, probably. "On who, Chim? Hen is bald."
Chimney splutters a little. "I just- well-" he shrugs a little, gently pulling her head back so he can keep braiding, fingers slow but getting more sure. "You know, with the leftover thread and stuff, on the ambulance. Sometimes I need something to do with my fingers."
He can almost see her eyebrow raise. "And you chose to learn to braid them?"
Chimney hesitates for a moment, the words a little too fragile in his mouth. But he's never been able to keep his mouth shut, least of all with Maddie. "I tried to braid mom's hair before," he says. "When I was little. She let me, but I made a mess-- you know, all knots. It was silly. Dad-- dad caught us, and he told her that it was a waste. That there was no point trying to fix it. That she should just cut the knot out instead." A memory of dark hair through his fingers. Sad eyes. "She kept her hair short, after that."
"I wish I'd learned better, for her," he says, looking at Maddie's long hair, the slightly uneven weave of it. He keeps braiding. "She lost it all in chemo, it seemed like a shame, that she kept it short for all that time before."
Maddie circles a hand over his ankle, gentle and grounding. "You're learning now," she says.
"I want to," he tells her. "Anne had short hair, and so did Hen. I never thought about it. But you like to keep your hair out of your face after you shower."
"I do," Maddie says, a little wonder in her voice, as if she can't believe that he loves her enough to remember, as if he doesn't love her enough to do far more.
"And Jee's growing up, too. One day, she'll probably want a daddy that can braid her hair for school. I want to be that for her. I don't want to cut her hair just because it's messy."
He pulls the hairtie from his wrist, wraps it around the end of her braid. It sits a little crooked on her back, but it's neat enough, made beautiful simply by the fact that it's Maddie, who will always be one of the most beautiful people he knows.
Maddie, who turns around, wraps her arms around him, kisses him once, again, eyes bright, smile tender. "You won't," she says. "You're a great dad, and a great partner."
He puts an arm around her waist, the other pulling her braid over her shoulder. "A partner who's a master braider?" he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
She laughs, pulls him in, tucks his face against the soft skin by her neck. He loves her, he loves her, he loves her. "Close," she says, breath warm on his ear, her hair tickling his neck. "You'll get there, honey. I know you."
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