((Pretend it’s in Arabic bc my phone isn’t letting me paste the Arabic letters and then write left to right English script LMAO )) “[Miss Kitty!]” Damian says softly in Arabic, running as fast as his little feet could carry him so he could wrap his arms and legs around Selina’s lower half, bright green eyes and à uncharacteristic smile are seen on the child as he looks up at her. “Baba says you can’t bring any more cats here or well end up a zoo but I think hes wrong.”
her face flushes with delight, joy, the immediate radiance of glee. every minute he’s in her life is another minute selina feels immeasurably and infinitely blessed — what did she do right to be given the opportunity to bask in the glow of this love? a laugh leaves her lips the likes of which soars immediately without fail, aloft on the wings of that affection. this is her best self.
her own arabic is well accented when she greets him, calls him gorgeous as is her true custom. her arms wrap around him in kind when her knees immediately hit the floor.
“your baba is wrong. he’s the one who pays to make sure all those kitties are healthy and happy. we call him a hypocrite,” honest truth, unabashed, she does not flinch, “how much fun are we going to have today?”












