Ricky knew his daughter was fine, playing with the other kids, but couldnt help but be nervous as he sat in the group, listening to a young father talk about how hard it bad been, when he was pregnant, his boyfriend got in a motorcycle accident. Honestly, Ricky really couldnt care less. Being a single father had been his own choice, really. Well, sort of. Itâs what he gets going to the bar that all the Alpha werewolves went to. Itâs his fault for talking to one during his heat. And itâs certainly his fault that he didnt go in search of his daughters father.
Though, now, Rickyâs focus shifted to the man sitting next to him. He was gorgeous, and everything Ricky wasnt. Porcelain skin, ebony hair, tall and lean. Ricky offered a smile at the man. He looked up when one of the kids called out, not his own though. It was a boy laughing excitedly. Once it turned four o'clock, the âdaddy and meâ meeting had ended and Ricky got up to get his daughter. She was having a blast with a little boy who seemed to be about her age. She was showing him her stuffed wolf, making little bark sounds.
âElla.â Ricky calls, but she is having too much fun, the little boy mumbles something, and she lights up in laughter. The young man smiles at his daughter, she was so precious. His life, his light. He turns to his side to see the man he had been admiring earlier. âIs that your son?â He asks him, grinning. It was only Rickyâs second time cominng to this. âMy names Ricky.â He offered his hand, feeling a little flustered with how he had been checking the man out earlier. âThatâs my daughter, Ella.â
Gabriel sat dressed in a black fedora, black jeans and black fitted t-shirt as he watched his three year old son ThĂ©o play and interact with others. For as long as Gabriel had been in America the Frenchman still felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb as not American sometimes. Maybe it was because he clung to his French culture- often wearing dark colours, making French food, speaking and reading to ThĂ©o in French. It was important to him that ThĂ©o knew his French heritage not just his American from his motherâs side. Gabriel wanted his son to be bilingual in English and French.
As he listened to all that was going on in the âDaddy and meâ, meeting, the children talking, the speaker speaking, Gabriel could not help but feel like someone was watching him, and turned to look over at the man next to him. Gabriel smiled at him in return, but did not say anything, not wanting to appear rude for talking during the group.
â ThĂ©o, it is time to go,â Gabriel said softly in French as he looked down at his son having fun with what seemed to be a newfound friend. âYes,â Gabriel said, easily switching to English, though his accent was still present. âIt is a pleasure to meet you both. My name is Gabriel and that is my son, ThĂ©o.â he greeted in return, and reached to shake the other manâs hand.Â