07-05-2021, 07:56 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: andale mono; font-size: 6.5pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 1px; line-height: 14px; color: #484a4d"]There was something soft in him that felt as if it provoked the rest of him to rot from the inside out. Whilst it felt unfamiliar to him, it warranted praise and so he’d continue on this straight path until the story would grow old. In the more recent weeks, William actively chose to support Rosalie’s upbringing. It had been a consideration that he had lingered on for a while now, but a decision he knew he ought to ultimately make to seek a new level of balance in his life. He enjoyed balance because it was predictable and he thrived off of acting based on what he knew to expect.
In this case, Rosie would be a permanent figure in his life whether he liked it or not. Sure, it had taken months to realise this and, whilst he would have preferred to do anything than take on a volatile infant who’d throw just about as many tantrums as her mother would (dealing with one was always easier than dealing with two), he had made the conscious choice not to avoid the inevitable for these three reasons:
Firstly, this was a situation that he had brought upon himself. Whilst bearing a child was not any part of his plan, sleeping around carelessly increased the risk factor by ten fold and he knew this; he simply enjoyed the thrill too much to stop until it was too late. Secondly, he wasn’t prepared to lose Joey all over again, and obliging willingly and taking on more responsibility with Rosie seemed to be the easiest way to keep in her good books. And, most importantly, it intrigued William the way he could shape a developing mind by being a sort of fatherly figure.
So he would start to involve himself in introducing Rosie to solid foods, he’d take the baby around Flintlock’s village and encourage her to play games with him. He would make sure she was happy and healthy and, even though he would have felt no remorse if he had decided not to give his daughter the time of day, he would look after her because he actively made the choice to do so. Was there a bond? Maybe Rosie felt it, but that was all that really mattered to William — whether baby Rosie felt a connection with her father. William was good at forming one-sided connections, earning the trust and respect of many even whilst he felt little in return.
If his commitment to his daughter pleased the likes of the Van Dorens and the Stirlings, then William would continue to do what he was doing. Not for Rosie’s sake, but because he enjoyed the feeling of pride he felt whenever people looked at him like a saint for finally deciding to do his job. He had set the bar so low that the bare minimum had amassed a crowd of admirers, delighted with this new revelation.
The ten month old had developed the knack for crawling around with little assistance, leaving William to always be on his toes prepared to grab her if she began to wander too far. The frustrating thing about babies was that they only kept quiet when they were getting into trouble; otherwise, their insolent noise was enough to drive a man crazy. William could never catch a break. In the kitchen, William left Rosie sitting on the floor nearby — occupied with a couple of toys — whilst he mashed up a banana for her to snack on. Whilst he seemed casual in this domestic bliss, William only saw this as another chore he supposed he should tick off the list.
❝ Breakfast is served, baby. ❞ William referred to his daughter with a hint of mechanical affection, lifting her up into a high chair before lowering the bowl of mashed banana on the table in front of her. He poked at the concoction with a spoon, raising his brows at Rosie’s curious face before he tried a small taste for himself. ❝ Mmm, it’s yummy. You should try it. I think you’ll like it. ❞ With a moment of thought, Rosie peered down at the bowl, soon reaching out for a small chunk of banana before she mashed it between her small fingertips. William curled his lip. Soon, the baby pushed the fruit into her mouth, sucking on it carefully before humming to herself. ❝ You like it? ❞ William confirmed, soon offering a small spoonful for Rosie to messily take by mouth.
This job was revolting, but if this was the responsibility of a father then William would have to at least try.
In this case, Rosie would be a permanent figure in his life whether he liked it or not. Sure, it had taken months to realise this and, whilst he would have preferred to do anything than take on a volatile infant who’d throw just about as many tantrums as her mother would (dealing with one was always easier than dealing with two), he had made the conscious choice not to avoid the inevitable for these three reasons:
Firstly, this was a situation that he had brought upon himself. Whilst bearing a child was not any part of his plan, sleeping around carelessly increased the risk factor by ten fold and he knew this; he simply enjoyed the thrill too much to stop until it was too late. Secondly, he wasn’t prepared to lose Joey all over again, and obliging willingly and taking on more responsibility with Rosie seemed to be the easiest way to keep in her good books. And, most importantly, it intrigued William the way he could shape a developing mind by being a sort of fatherly figure.
So he would start to involve himself in introducing Rosie to solid foods, he’d take the baby around Flintlock’s village and encourage her to play games with him. He would make sure she was happy and healthy and, even though he would have felt no remorse if he had decided not to give his daughter the time of day, he would look after her because he actively made the choice to do so. Was there a bond? Maybe Rosie felt it, but that was all that really mattered to William — whether baby Rosie felt a connection with her father. William was good at forming one-sided connections, earning the trust and respect of many even whilst he felt little in return.
If his commitment to his daughter pleased the likes of the Van Dorens and the Stirlings, then William would continue to do what he was doing. Not for Rosie’s sake, but because he enjoyed the feeling of pride he felt whenever people looked at him like a saint for finally deciding to do his job. He had set the bar so low that the bare minimum had amassed a crowd of admirers, delighted with this new revelation.
The ten month old had developed the knack for crawling around with little assistance, leaving William to always be on his toes prepared to grab her if she began to wander too far. The frustrating thing about babies was that they only kept quiet when they were getting into trouble; otherwise, their insolent noise was enough to drive a man crazy. William could never catch a break. In the kitchen, William left Rosie sitting on the floor nearby — occupied with a couple of toys — whilst he mashed up a banana for her to snack on. Whilst he seemed casual in this domestic bliss, William only saw this as another chore he supposed he should tick off the list.
❝ Breakfast is served, baby. ❞ William referred to his daughter with a hint of mechanical affection, lifting her up into a high chair before lowering the bowl of mashed banana on the table in front of her. He poked at the concoction with a spoon, raising his brows at Rosie’s curious face before he tried a small taste for himself. ❝ Mmm, it’s yummy. You should try it. I think you’ll like it. ❞ With a moment of thought, Rosie peered down at the bowl, soon reaching out for a small chunk of banana before she mashed it between her small fingertips. William curled his lip. Soon, the baby pushed the fruit into her mouth, sucking on it carefully before humming to herself. ❝ You like it? ❞ William confirmed, soon offering a small spoonful for Rosie to messily take by mouth.
This job was revolting, but if this was the responsibility of a father then William would have to at least try.
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TAKE A HUMAN HEART , ADD SOME VANITY , AUTHENTICITY
[sup]AND PUT THEM ALL TOGETHER . DO WHATEVER TO YOUR BROKEN MACHINE .[/sup]