Unicorns just happen to like me.

Silvanus Kettleburn, call me Sil.

[florence-mercy-nightingale]

“Sil?”

“Yes, Florence?”

“I think it might be raining.”

Florence Nightingale and Silvanus Kettleburn, on a night out whilst Florence’s father cared for Alba. Taken June 1978.

[shinjitsu08]

[memphisfoto-deactivated20130212]

[sillykettleburn-blog]

"And why does she has the plush, anyway, Sil?" "She likes animals."

[picsofcutelittlegirls]

[florence-mercy-nightingale]

“Of course I do,” Florence glanced up at Sil, her eyes wide. “I mean,” She paused, biting her lip uncertainly. “That is, if you still want to.” And she did, Florence wanted Sil there, to help her, be with her. To stop her from making mistakes and just to lie next to her and night, wake up next to in the mornings. Maybe it wasn’t marriage, but it would be something… it would be them.

Then Poppy came with an apologetic smile and Florence had to remind herself that Alba needed sleep. Because a part of Flo didn’t want her little girl to go, even if it was just to her crib next to Flo’s bed. The young witch was use to have Alba safe within her. Any distance at all seemed like too much.

But the feel of Sil’s arms surrounding her stood as a reminder of just how much Flo had been through that day, of how tired she actually was. Curled up beside him, Florence didn’t think she had the energy to get up. Her eyes closed and Florence found that opening them seemed like an impossible task.

“My mum had black hair, too.” Florence sighed, feeling as though she could fall asleep in Sil’s arms there and then. “Though, her eyes were green.” It had been a long time since Florence had spoken about her mother, Clarissa. In fact, speaking of her now made Florence flashback to her time in labour, when she had screamed for her mother.

Even now, feeling the love a mother would feel for her daughter, Florence had to wonder about her own mother. Had she felt the same? Regardless, Florence had only just begun t feel the ache of her dead mother, an ache that she had for so long, bottled up. Tentatively, Florence peaked an eye open, looking up at Sil with hesitant eyes. “Do you miss her? Your mother, I mean.”

[sillykettleburn-blog]

"Every day." he mumbled softly. "I mean, it's.. she didn't die when I was really young, you know. Just.. I was eight, I actually remember it. And it's.. strange, because since I've seen her die, I am now capable of seeing the thestrals. I like to see that as her final gift to me."

He pulled her up against him, eyes closed slightly, just slightly as he stroked his thumb over his cheek. "I still see her as my daughter." he said, Referring to Alba. "She still.. reacts on me. She did, right?"

He looked at the little crib, the tiny being silent, sleeping. He could hear the breathing if he held his own and he did that for a moment before turning back towards Florence, who was cuddled up against him.

"And you?" he wondered. "Do you miss your mother?"

There were so many things to take care of. Her father, his father - hell, his father didn't even know. He never told the man he was becoming a father. He should, probably, as soon the first holiday would arrive. He had to choose whether he'd want to go to his home, or her home, or both, and it all gave him quite the headache..

He groaned softly as he curled against her, the scar that the hypogryff made hurting the slightest in the warmth. He always yearned for the cold of her touch, yet felt not in the position to take off his shirt.

[florence-mercy-nightingale]

[sillykettleburn-blog]

It was strange.

Because when he held the child, he suddenly realized it was his. His child.

Maybe not. by blood, but by everything else. And the moment he held her something in hie mind clicked and he blinked. And he did not know why he cried, why there were warm tears on...

[sillykettleburn-blog]

"Do you still want me to sign up as he father?" he asked, silently, because it so obviously wasn't his part. And even though he did not want anything else. Her black hair and blue eyes.. He could not care less. She could be his girl.

Daddy's little girl.

He stood, holding her close as Madame Pomfrey arrived with a little.crib. He put her in it carefully and then he turned back to Florence. "I think there's someone else.who deserves some love as well." he smiled.

He stroked her cheek.before settling next to her on the bed, embracing her with his warmth and strong chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, kissing her cheek.

"You did great, Flo." he mumbled softly as he just held her. She should sleep. He suddenly felt the responsibility for.their wellbeing down upon them as he held Florence as if she was just as breakable as little Alba Lorah.

He smiled.

"You know.." he whispered. "My mother... Lorah - my mother's name, she.. She kind of looked the same. Black hair and blue eyes. I did not inherit her looks but.." he smiled. "Maybe Alba did."

And he offered himself and her a blissful lie. If he just thought about his mother it would not remind him of Avery as much.

[sillykettleburn-blog]

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[florence-mercy-nightingale]

[sillykettleburn-blog]

He had been sleeping. Maybe he felt.guilty for the fact she had left without him noticing - surely when he was taken by Bertha who told him she already gave birth. He felt horrible.

“Florence, I…” he came walking into the infirmary apologizing but when he saw her holding...

[sillykettleburn-blog]

It was strange.

Because when he held the child, he suddenly realized it was his. His child.

Maybe not. by blood, but by everything else. And the moment he held her something in hie mind clicked and he blinked. And he did not know why he cried, why there were warm tears on his face, dripping down silently, only noticable when he sniffed for a moment.

And he laughed, softly, holding the little think, whispering.

"Hey.." he mumbled. "Hey girl.." and the baby stirred to his chest, curling up against him, reacting like she had done to his hand while being in Florence's stomach. Calm, though he stroked his thumb over her cheek.

"Stay awake little one.." he whispered. "Don't fall asleep.. don't."

For a moment he was so affraid that something so tiny was a one time thing and that she would be gone the moment she fell asleep. That she would not wake or...

"Flo.." he said softly. "She is beautiful."

[sillykettleburn-blog]

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[florence-mercy-nightingale]

Florence watched as a small mouth took milk from the bottle offered to her, gazing in wonder at the small form that drank contently in her arms. In the bed next to hers, Wendy slept, exhausted from the da’y’s events. It wasn’t every day that your best friend gave birth. But, eyeing Wendy now,...

[sillykettleburn-blog]

He had been sleeping. Maybe he felt.guilty for the fact she had left without him noticing - surely when he was taken by Bertha who told him she already gave birth. He felt horrible.

"Florence, I..." he came walking into the infirmary apologizing but when he saw her holding the little thing he stopped dead in his tracks.

"T-thank me?" he said, his eyes clung to the little creature. So this was it. What he signed up for. A child. A daughter. "Thank me for what?"

He settled on the edge of the bed.

His hand found his way to her hair and he glanced around whether Avery had been here. But he just saw Wendy and he was oddly grateful. Looking at the girl, he saw she was not his. Blue eyes, Black hairs. That would never be his daughter by blood. And maybe that was not bad.

With pureblood father it would be better life for her. But he would sign up as her father. He would be the one to take care of her and it filled him with warmth.

"Can I.. can I touch her?"

[sillykettleburn-blog]

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[sillykettleburn-blog]

OOC, YES PARA TIME! WELL THE BIRTH! That Sil sees Alba for the first time? You mean like that?

[florence-mercy-nightingale]

YESYESYESYESYES. YOU WANNA START OR SHALL I?

[sillykettleburn-blog]

Do you want to start? I always love tumbling into your para's! But if you rTher do not i will

[sillykettleburn-blog]

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[sillykettleburn-blog]

OOC, YES PARA TIME! WELL THE BIRTH! That Sil sees Alba for the first time? You mean like that?

[sillykettleburn-blog]

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[florence-mercy-nightingale]

My Blue-Eyed Girl

I know I haven’t been on lately, but I blame pesky exams, so I have a lot of pent up backlog of writing and I have to unleash it somehow. Sadly, this isn’t some harrowing perfection like Lucy’s (to which, I am still feeling feels for), but some love-fluff for Flo. After all the drama the poor girl has been through, I kind of want to give Florence some happiness, you know? Let her have something that goes right.

Enjoy me luvvies xxx

Read More

[hermiola]

[sillykettleburn-blog]

ooc; MOi.. a bit

[sillykettleburn-blog]

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[sillykettleburn-blog]

ooc, You start! I will go home now

[florence-mercy-nightingale]

Florence Nightingale and Silvanus Kettleburn, May 1978.