#fatherlcss

           kaleb considers for a moment, eyes darting to the side before he smirked & leaned in again to trail his HOT tongue across her soft cheek once again. what an ass.

Though he made all efforts to be as present as possible when on leave from duty, work still called to him in the form of some extensive household paperwork within his study. It was a late, lazy afternoon and he assumed his mother would’ve been fast into a nap by this point. As such, her sudden appearance at the threshold of his door caught him by surprise and he jumped a little. 

“Aún no soy un fantasma, Armando.” 

She scoffed, nudging open the door with her cane. 

“La chica que esperas está abajo. No sé por qué piensas que una gringa está en condiciones de cuidarme. ¿Se espera que hable inglés?”

Salazar sighed and rose from his chair to see to the newest member of the household staff. Before exiting the room he afforded his mother only the passing comfort and suggestion of,

“Calma, mamá.” 

He moved quickly downstairs and to the new arrival with a sense of firm urgency. He didn’t intend to treat her poorly despite the conditions of her joining them, but he did want to make it clear to her that her position was not to be taken for granted. 

           “ it sure is, now come here & let your bärchen give you the first part of your present. ” leaning in again, he closed his eyes & pressed his lips to hers gently, just in case she was going to push him away. holly was DIFFERENT than most girls, she never seemed too thrilled to celebrate specific holidays such as father’s day & her birthday. but gaston had remembered the year prior, before they were even a couple, that she wasn’t very excited to grow another year older. despite sensing there were other reasons, gaston still wanted to make the day SPECIAL for her. 

there is real fondness lurking in the back of his heart, he won’t deny that. but she’s so soft, so goddamn malleable. it’s liable to drive a man mad, but wednesday’s not just any man. 

holly grabs at his hands, and wednesday lets her- even going so far as to brush his thumbs across her knuckles in what he supposes is reassuring in some perverse way. 

“you’re a good girl,” he tells her, tuning his voice to the sad-nostalgic-old-man station. “don’t mind me. i’m just a silly old man with too many fancies and time trickling through his fingers too fast to stop.”

[text] It’s Clarice?

[text] Oh crap