( meme : no longer accepting i’m just slow af )
The weight of a warm palm on his shoulder had him glancing up, youngblue eyes meeting old smiling ones. A light burned in the young child’schest when he saw the pride shinning in his grandfather’s eyes. It broughta giant grin onto Jean’s face to have that look directed at him. For in his littlesix year old mind, there was nothing better.
“That’s a mighty fine breakfast ya made,J.J. I know ya Dad’s gonna love it.”
“You think so, Papa? I made some for Mommyand you, too!”
George Havoc’s face only fell slightly before that big smile of his was rightback where it was often seen. His rough hands patted Jean on the shoulderbefore beginning to usher him out of the kitchen and in the direction of thebedrooms.
“Ya Mom already left for the store, but yaDad an’ I will make sure to eat all thisfood ya made for us — now go on, J.J.,go wake him up and tell him we’ve gotsome good food for ‘im.”
“Okay, Papa! – Don’t eat Mommy’s!”
A laugh left Jean as he dodged a hand aimed to ruffle his hair and he trottedoff on little feet his Dad and Mom’s bedroom to creak open the door. He wassure to keep extra quiet as the blond child began to creep inside before hereached the bed. The moment he was close enough to the bed, he made toleap up into the bed before the lump under the covers moved fast as lightning.
With a loud squeal, Jean was snagged and dragged into the bed where hewas attacked by tickling fingers and a grin just like his own. He laughed andsquirmed, trying to get out of reach.
Loud, deep laughter filtered in along side his own before the tickling finallyrelented and Jean was left giggling as he looked at his Dad who was stillgrinning at him.
Jean grabbed the pillow next to him and made to hit his father repeatedlyover the head. Cries of vengeance and laughter filled the air before hisfather relented.
And as if to prove his point, the man went limp on the bed as if dead andJean grinned.
“Haha, that you do, kiddo. Come here.”
He pulled Jean to him and looked at him. Jean just grinned back.
“Mmmm… if it’s my birthday, where’s my breakfast?”
“It’s down stairs. Papa helped me make it.”
Another grin and suddenly Samson Havoc was getting out of bed, his sixyear old son slung over his shoulder while the child struggled to get downand beat his little fists against his broad back.
“Nope. Not until I see this breakfast with my own eyes!”
Jean just laughed before finally giving up his struggle and allowing himselfto be carried to the kitchen where his grandfather was waiting for the smalllittle celebration of his father’s birthday.