some more of coffee & cigarettes, but with dad dabi?
i do miss me some coffee & cigs! au
colorful lights fill the sky, the lasers from a stage. there’s thousands of people attending the show, too many to even count as they all bob to the beat of the music. it’s dazzling how beautiful it is, the energy and atmosphere washing over every person attending. it has you bobbing your head on, being mindful of your movement.
“god, shit looks fantastic. too bad we’re missing it.” touya comments, pointing the remote to lower the volume to the polite number of 3 on the tv.
a stream is playing of a music festival you and your husband used to attend before in your early dating years. it looks amazing, you almost have fomo…
but your baby in your arms is something you wouldn’t trade for the world. still you can’t help but miss the days attending music festivals and having three nights of staying up all night to have the time of your life. now when you have poor sleep, it’s because of your son’s still adjusting sleep schedule.
thankfully this night, he’s fallen asleep peacefully at eight o’clock and it relieves you. “god, we’re never gonna go to another festival ever again, huh?” you fake a sigh as if in mourning. it’s a mostly fake sigh but you know that it will be a bit before you’re ready to even be without your baby for more than an hour. the thought of being without him makes you anxious.
“alright, give him here. he’s going in the crib.” touya holds out his hands to relieve you and send you to bed. he notices how you just continue to watch the tv screen, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “c’mon, i’m tired and i know you’re tired. we can’t stay up to watch the stream.”
he’d love to reminisce but he’d love even more to just pass out in bed. he remembers babies being very exhausting; he is the oldest of four siblings after all. but taking care of his own kid was much more tiring than he anticipated.
he gets reminded of that again when his son needs a middle of the night feeding.
so touya has to be awake with you for support, not necessarily to talk you through anything but to just sit by and watch. at 1am in the morning as you’re breast feeding the baby, the two of you are watching the stream of the music festival again. “remember our third year going? when you were wearing that one fit with the butterfly tights and we were on-“ he starts to remember out loud only to get hushed by you.
“he’s awake,” you speak tersely and send him a glare, “i don’t want him to know that we were naughty before.”
“please,” touya huffs, “as if he knows what’s going on besides what’s in his mouth.”
you sigh deeply to keep in your annoyance—he can tell you want to just hit him. too bad you can’t as you wait patiently for your baby’s feeding to be done. and even when he is done and he’s dozed off into a milk induced slumber, all touya gets from you is a weak, sleepy hiss, “you’re a shit.”
and then you pass out as soon as you tuck yourself in bed, leaving touya the only one awake in the room. he glances over at the bassinet with his sleeping son and his wife next to him before laying back on the bed. he holds up two fingers, the ones that he used to hold his cigarettes in between and perpetually smelled like smoke.
he brings them up to his mouth, imitating as if he was taking a drag. the baby gurgles a little in his sleep but makes no other noise. it’s peaceful in that little room as he reminisces the days of you and him traversing wide festival grounds before being the last person in the room to sleep.
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izzy806
