Those things don’t cry out for Salome’s help. That boy would have. It makes a difference in her perspective. In the end it wouldn’t have mattered, he would have been too much of a liability, even she knows that.
A sigh.
Wrapping her arms around his knee she rubs her cheek against him idly while he strokes her and compliments her. She just soaks that all up like a sponge. He is proud of her, why shouldn’t he be? She does well, she stays out of trouble what more could he want in a daughter? It’s the touches that she likes though, the sweet, innocent ones over her face or her hair, not unlike the cat that she is. It always strikes her that the quiet, easy moments are the ones that she tends to remember and enjoy. Not that the other ones are bad, but they get put in a different sort of category.
“I think you tell me that all the time and I like hearing it, I never want to disappoint you. I always want to make you proud.” Which is true, which is her anti-drug, or something like that. The reason why she isn’t more of a little shit.
“I don’t think you could carry me any more,” she laughs sleepily and yawns, stretching out her legs and pressing her face into the V his shin and thigh make. Her bed is good and comfy however and it’s hard to pass that up. Still, as long as she had a blanket she could probably sleep just about anywhere and she likes keeping the dog company. Wiggling her fingers she taunts the mutt, pulling her hand away so he has to work for it.
“He’s getting better at running, which sounds weird but he has the tendency of being a little ADD when we run, he wants to sniff everything. And then he gets tired and just sits there, I have to carry him home.” Which cracks her up, it won’t when he gets all big but that won’t be for awhile and then he’ll be able to run or at least walk the whole way.
“Fuzzy face,” clearly a term of endearment for the puppy.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2013-01-07 03:35 pm (UTC)A sigh.
Wrapping her arms around his knee she rubs her cheek against him idly while he strokes her and compliments her. She just soaks that all up like a sponge. He is proud of her, why shouldn’t he be? She does well, she stays out of trouble what more could he want in a daughter? It’s the touches that she likes though, the sweet, innocent ones over her face or her hair, not unlike the cat that she is. It always strikes her that the quiet, easy moments are the ones that she tends to remember and enjoy. Not that the other ones are bad, but they get put in a different sort of category.
“I think you tell me that all the time and I like hearing it, I never want to disappoint you. I always want to make you proud.” Which is true, which is her anti-drug, or something like that. The reason why she isn’t more of a little shit.
“I don’t think you could carry me any more,” she laughs sleepily and yawns, stretching out her legs and pressing her face into the V his shin and thigh make. Her bed is good and comfy however and it’s hard to pass that up. Still, as long as she had a blanket she could probably sleep just about anywhere and she likes keeping the dog company. Wiggling her fingers she taunts the mutt, pulling her hand away so he has to work for it.
“He’s getting better at running, which sounds weird but he has the tendency of being a little ADD when we run, he wants to sniff everything. And then he gets tired and just sits there, I have to carry him home.” Which cracks her up, it won’t when he gets all big but that won’t be for awhile and then he’ll be able to run or at least walk the whole way.
“Fuzzy face,” clearly a term of endearment for the puppy.