#vichael

As the door shuts behind you, the sound of Verona’s soft giggles fills the room. “Wanna go.” 

“You want to go garden with her too?” Michael asks, adjusting his watch over his wrist. 

“Yah.” Verona nods, sitting politely on the couch. “Help flowers.” 

“Someday,” Michael chuckles, moving back over to his armchair. “There’s more than enough dirt and mud out there for you to make a mess in. When you’re older.” 

“Hmm...” Verona pouts, eyeing around the living room for her next source of attention and excitement. “Wanna help.” 

“You don’t want to play with your brother or cousins instead?” Michael raises a brow, taking a seat. 

“No, only daddy.” Verona shakes her head, hopping off the couch. 

“Only daddy,” Michael repeats, somewhat confused himself to see Verona getting up. “Stay in my sight, alright? Until your mother gets back.” 

“Not going anywhere,” Verona smiles up at her father, beginning to circle around the room with the pitter patter of her socks hitting the wood floors.  

Michael chuckles quietly, reaching for the novel he set down momentarily, careful to keep his eye on his energetic and excitable daughter at the same time. 

“That is NOT what we discussed,” Sonny’s voice suddenly cuts through from the drawing room down the hallway, surprising Verona. 

Michael rolls his eyes out of annoyance from his brother’s brashness and tone, flipping open to the page he left off on. 

“Uncle Sonny,” Verona whispers, giggling again. “Mad.” 

“He’s loud,” Michael responds, adjusting his posture in his armchair.  

“No, and I spoke TO YOU—” Sonny continues, making it apparent he’s on a heated phone call rather than speaking to someone in person. 

Michael sighs out of annoyance under his breath, lowering his novel from his eyes to consider closing the door to the living room when he glances up to notice Verona’s gone. 

Raising a brow and eyeing the room, Michael hears the sound of Verona’s little footsteps echo down the halls and towards the drawing room to her uncle; her laughter beginning to grow louder and louder. 

Trusting Sonny to be responsible with his choice of vocabulary with Verona in his presence, Michael feels relieved of most concern, but continues to listen intently as he returns to focusing on his novel. 

 Verona stops in her tracks before she reaches the drawing room, spotting out a pair of your kitten heels placed neatly by the end of the hall. 

‘Mama.’ Verona’s eyes light up as she heads towards the heels giddily, remembering you wearing these just earlier. 

Only a mere few minutes later, concern rises back in Michael once he notices Verona’s no longer running around, giggling or talking to Sonny after all.  

Raising his head up, Michael can only hear silence before the sound of heels come clacking loudly down the hallway—one big clack! At a time. 

Michael furrows his brows, looking towards the doorway of the living room while trying to decipher how that sound would be resonating from anyone, let alone their shoes at such a close distance. 

Beaming happily, Verona grips onto the wall as she takes one big step at a time; one foot in front of the other just as she’s observed you walking like. 

As Verona gets closer to returning to the living room, she stops after another step and giggles—confirming to Michael she’s nearby and up to something. 

Michael puts his novel down on his lap, watching as his daughter takes giant strides into the living room with a pair of her mother’s black, lace affixed kitten heels.  

Verona moves in slowly and holding out her little arms to balance herself, looking up at her father happily for his approval. “Hi, daddy.” 

“Hello.” Michael blinks, wondering how Verona can even manage to keep her tiny feet inside the oversized shoes with every step she takes. “And what do you have here?” 

“Mama shoe,” Verona beams proudly. “Pretty. I wear.” 

“Very pretty,” Michael chuckles, unable to wipe the momentary smile on his mouth. “They don’t fit though, do they?” 

“No,” Verona pouts, standing still. “No fit now.” 

“When you’re older,” Michael points out again, noticing his daughter’s annoyance with that phrase being reused. 

“No!” Verona shakes her head, “I wear.” 

“Alright, you can wear it.” Michael holds his hands up in surrender. “But don’t you wanna show mama what you’re wearing?” 

“Mama!” Verona claps her little hands together excitedly. “Show!” 

“Alright, we’ll show her together,” Michael rises from his seat, beginning to approach Verona. “But we’ll have to be careful with our steps otherwise it’ll ruin the surprise.” 

“Okay,” Verona holds out her hands towards her father. “Hold.” 

“I’ll hold,” Michael takes both of Verona’s hands gently, walking behind her and leading her towards the back door cautiously with each step they take together. 

Verona can barely contain her enthusiasm by the time she and Michael reach the door.

She watches in awe as Michael twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, revealing yourself and Connie sitting on a patch of grass and packing soil neatly into new flowerpots. 

“Hi, mama!” Verona shrieks as she and Michael slowly step outside together. 

“Oh?” You turn your head at the same time as Connie, blinking in surprise at the sight of Michael helping Verona keep her balance with her tiny feet inside of your heels. 

“She insisted,” Michael states, glancing in acknowledgement at both you and Connie. 

“Oh my God,” you burst out laughing, slowly getting up to your feet. 

“Well, well,” Connie grins, “she’s growing up so fast, huh? She wants to be just like her mama.” 

“Like mama!” Verona lets go of Michael’s hands in an attempt to balance herself, almost wobbling over before hugging and holding onto your thighs. 

“Like me?” You gently pinch Verona’s cheeks lovingly, scooping her up into your arms.  

“She looks up to you a lot, you know,” Michael states, moving aside the kitten heels. “More than you know.”