I Live My Daydreams in Music

Instead of cursing her to an eternal sleep or death, Maleficent declares that the princess will grow up to betray the kingdom and serve her instead. So the king sends Aurora away, but one day the young adventurous girl strays a bit too far and right into her territory.

Then Came the Last Days of May - Submitted by: fastman27

Will you descend? - submitted by Nookisms 

Toasty! - Submitted by Nookisms

How dande! - submitted by Nookisms 

Somewhere Near Houston, Texas : August 26, 2023

It’s convenient to be an early riser; the kind of person who wakes up refreshed and naturally alert at the ass-crack of dawn, most days before the alarm has even gone off.  Not that he’s ever been swayed all too much by fables praising early birds and worms or any of that other stuff old folks are always going on about, but in a practical sense Leroy has always found it more useful than not to be up before the sun.  It’s the best time to do chores and work, to tend to the horses; the best time to go for a drive and crank up the radio.  Best time to get a head start on the things that matter, in those quiet hours while the rest of the world is still sleeping.  Life’s too short as it is, no sense wasting the daylight.

Of course, not everybody sees it that way.  Lee smiles to himself and artfully slips out from under the tangle of pillows, blankets, and long blond hair, careful not to jostle the slumbering form at his side.  Luckily he’s had plenty of practice over the years; though in great contrast to the many who came before, this is as far from a one night stand as it gets.  He pauses briefly to pull the sheet back up over Hannah’s swollen belly, letting his hand linger there just a moment in hopes of feeling a tiny punch or kick.  None are forthcoming, as usual.  It would seem the twins take their beauty rest as seriously as their mother.  He leaves them to it.

It doesn’t take long for him to shower and throw on some clothes–he’s always prided himself on being a particularly low maintenance specimen–and dawn is still teasing the horizon by the time he shuffles into the kitchen.  Uncle Mal is already there, fussing over something on the stove.  “Mornin’,” Lee greets as he tosses his jacket on the table and sidles over to pour himself a cup of coffee, more chipper than anyone has any business being before the sun is up.

“–Is it?” Malcolm replies absently, glancing up from the pan as though he’s just been pulled from some deep thought that most certainly didn’t involve the pork sausage sizzling away at the end of his spatula.

Leroy only chuckles under his breath.  His uncle doesn’t sleep much, that’s nothing new, but in recent months he seems to have traded in passing his time in the laboratory for the kitchen.  This is where Lee finds him most mornings now, toiling over comfort food instead of alchemy.  Then again, maybe the two disciplines aren’t so different; one just involves a whole lot more butter.  “Quiet ‘round this place, since the ol’ man an’ that damn bird been gone.  Doc still here?” “No, Ig had t’ go take care of some things.” Mal replies almost wistfully.  “He won’t be back for a few days.” Lee resists the urge to make an inappropriate joke.  “So who the Hell ya’ cookin’ all that for?  Ain’t no one here can eat it ‘cept you, me, an’ Zad…an’ I ain’t gonna’ be hangin’ ‘round for breakfast.”

“I don’t know,” his uncle murmurs as though he’s only just considered the notion himself, and reaches for his coffee mug.  Lee is fairly certain whatever’s in it, it’s not coffee.  “Where are you off to, Leroy?” he asks after a moment.  “Shouldn’t run out on an empty stomach.  If you’re in that much of a hurry I can pack ya’ some t’ go.”

Part of him wonders if he’ll ever get used to the man who looks and sounds just like his father speaking to him so gently.  It’s unsettling in a warm, fuzzy kind of way that makes him sad all the same.  “–Yeah, guess that’d be alright,” Lee relents, not because he’s hankering for a breakfast burrito so much as it’s hard not to appreciate the sentiment behind it.  “Been workin’ on somethin’ down by the creek.  Figure after I turn out the horses I’ll put a few hours in there ‘fore Hannah wakes up.”   

There’s a soft clank of cast iron as Mal sets the pan down and hobbles over to the cupboard to fetch a bit of tinfoil.  “Workin’ on what?”

Lee flashes his signature lopsided grin.  “Just somethin’ special.”

A distinctly skeptical look is tossed his nephew’s way, but Malcolm doesn’t pry.  “If you say so.”  He turns back to the counter to assemble the burrito, and Lee doesn’t miss the way his fingers tremble as he piles the fillings high and rolls everything neatly in a foil cocoon.  “Need a hand?”

“Nah, I’m good.  Gonna’ drag Zad along,” Leroy explains, draining the last swallow from his coffee cup before swooping over to snatch the oversized to-go meal from his uncle’s hand.  He grabs his jacket off the table as he walks by.  “You seen ‘em this mornin’?”

“Reckon’ they’re probably out on the front porch.”

“Aight,” Lee waves back over his shoulder, already heading for the door, “Catch ya’ later, Uncle Mal.  Thanks for breakfast.”

“–Wait, Leroy.  Hold up a minute.”

He stops and turns around, looking expectantly at his uncle.  “Yeah?”

Malcolm stands beside the table, holding something in the palm of his hand.  “This musta’ fallen outta’ your jacket,” he drawls, and lets his fingers unfurl to reveal a small ring; a simple white gold band adorned with an unusual stone that sparkles brighter than any star in the sky even in the dimly lit kitchen.  “Is it what I think it is?”

Lee shrugs, padding over to pluck the ring from his uncle’s hand and tucking it back into his pocket.  “Depends what ya’ think it is.”

A tight frown pulls across Mal’s lips, and he sinks into the nearest chair.  “Jesus Christ.  Toni’s gonna’ shoot you again.”

“Why’s everybody always sayin’ that like it’s normal behavior?”

“Normal’s relative.”

One of Santiago’s old cuckoo clocks chimes faintly from the hallway, drawing Lee’s gaze in that direction.  The first rays of dawn are beginning to pour through the windows, painting lines of light across the Spanish tiles on the floor, and he stares at them for a long moment.  The morning’s wasting.  “Guess so.  Listen, I get you’re fixin’ t’ go off ‘bout how I’m a selfish fuckin’ peckerbrained imbecile an’ all, but it’s gonna’ have t’ wait cuz’ I ain’t really got time for another lecture right now—”

“No lecture,” Malcolm interrupts, folding his hands neatly on the table in front of him, “but I have got somethin’ I need t’ say.”  His reading glasses are sliding down the bridge of his nose, and there’s grease from the frying pan splattered onto his shirt, but the deeply thoughtful expression that’s settled over his face is far more composed.  “I love you an’ I’m proud of you…”  

Lee’s shields are up, ready to deflect, but the words fly right through the defenses and hit him square in the chest where he feels every syllable like a shot through the heart.  “Just said I ain’t got time for…you’re…wait, what?”

“I ain’t your daddy, I know that, but he’s not here t’ say it an’ you need t’ hear it.  I’m sorry you haven’t heard it enough.” His uncle continues, soft spoken yet earnestly.  “You’re a good man, Leroy.  You’re gonna’ be a good father, an’ Hannah’s as lucky t’ have you as you are t’ have her.  You both deserve t’ be happy.”

Lee is silent for what feels like a moment that stretches on and on and on.  There was a time–most of his childhood, really–when he would have given anything he had for little more than a kind word from his own father.  It’s been years since he stopped asking himself why; and maybe he’s never fully come to terms with the hand he’d been dealt, but he can’t say it’s ever occurred to him that he’s been carrying the crushing weight of someone else’s burden all along.  “Uncle Mal,” Lee ventures finally; voice tight and throat burning.  Hesitating again, he swallows thickly, and hopes it’s enough to hide his sniffle.  “That’s gotta’ be without a doubt the gayest shit you’ve ever said t’ me.”  

Malcolm huffs a quiet laugh under his breath, and shakes his head.  “Yeah, well, next time I’ll try sayin’ it straighter.”