“Shane says I am like magician, I can always help children sleep.”
Five times Ilya Rozanov is exactly what a kid needs, and the one time he’s terrified he won’t be.
AKA, the Baby Whisperer!Ilya fic.
Natalia Rozanov sits at the dinner table with her daughter in her lap, and she is at the end of her rope.
Her husband sits beside her, his brother across from her, and his father at the head of the table.
Currently, Grigori and Alexei are in the midst of one of their trivial and loud arguments, all volume and no real substance.
Her daughter, her beautiful and sweet Vera, is currently screaming bloody murder in her ear. Natalia is one second away from a breakdown and across the table, Ilya looks far away; eyes glazed and sitting still like a statue in his chair.
A particularly loud cry from Vera has everyone at the table looking at Natalia, and she feels her face heating up in shame. She closes her eyes, presses her lips to her daughter’s head and pleads with her silently to just stop crying.
Suddenly, she feels a hand on her upper back and she flinches at the touch, then stills. She looks up and finds Ilya staring down at her in concern. “Ilya?”
He smiles. Despite everything, it’s comforting.
“Come,” he tells her, “lets’s go somewhere quiet, hmm?”
She shakes her head, knows what’s coming. He knows, too, but he’s risking it for them, to offer her and his niece a small comfort.
Vera wails, hiccups, pushes against Natalia’s chest.
“Natalia, she needs quiet,” Ilya tells her quietly, hand coming to rub at Vera’s back.
“Ilya,” his father barks, “sit back down.”
His jaw clenches as he looks at his father. “But Vera-“
“Is not your responsibility,” his father says with a sneer pointed at Natalia. “Sit down.”
He looks away, then down. After a second, he does as he’s told.
Vera does not stop crying.
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