Patrick was a goddamn nervous wreck. Just one entire human disaster, walking around on the streets. He’d had to take a personal day because he’d spent the first hour of work obsessively running to check the mail. Hilda would at least owl him when she’d given birth, right? Surely she would. She didn’t probably entirely hate him, she could at least tell him the boy was alive and healthy and she was fine.
Now he just had to pace around in public and pretend like his nervous energy was just that, energy. Like he’d ever been the type to idly take walks through the park before. Maybe he should start, it actually wasn’t halfway horrible. The air helped him try and clear his head, and he got to see do some people-watching. Spying on other people’s lives did help take a bit of the edge off his anxious thoughts.
Honestly, he noticed Millie before he noticed Marcus. He made silly faces at the cute infant in the stroller for a full minute before someone cleared their throat. Ears distinctly pink, Patrick looked up and recognized the man standing with the stroller.
“Oh, hey. Marcus, right? Marcus Bulstrode. I li-- returned your wallet a while back, we talked about kids for a bit. This is your daughter, right?”
@marcus-bulstrode
