The baby was not fussy. They were late anyway. (Because they both looked a little shifty when they walked in and no one can tell me otherwise because that is 100% what these two are like. ~800 words.)
“Swan?” Killian pokes his head through the bedroom door. “I’m
afraid—what are you doing?”“Texting my mother,” Emma says distractedly, fiddling with
her phone. “Telling her we’ll be late.”He frowns. “We aren’t late.”
Emma looks over and gives him a mock-patient look. “That’s
why I’m saying we will be—what happened to you?”He shrugs, stepping fully into view. He’s dressed in a tux
that, if Emma were to be honest, doesn’t suit him at all. It was black, but now
there’s a rather big stain on his left shoulder. “I’m afraid we had a little
accident.”Nestled in the crook of his arm, his daughter gurgles
happily, flailing a tiny, chubby arm.“An accident,” Emma says, deadpan.
“Aye, love,” he says, straight-faced.
“Killian.”
Excuses (CS one-shot)
Published
It All Starts With a Dance 