She presses a kiss to the top of the little one's head and its sincerity aches in its long, quiet pause. Alana always feels too deeply this swell of something prideful, almost paternal, each time she looks at the child. Smile flickers onto a face, wide and warm. A precious, precious thing by all means, to be adored. "You're such a clever girl. What did you do today, mon cheri?" (HELLO I'M HERE AND I DIDN'T KNOW THIS ACCOUNT EXISTED BUT.)
The petite girl receives the parental affection eagerly. She is always eager to be given a loving touch, always grateful for a kiss and hug from her Mama or Alana. She is admittedly grateful for Alana as a whole. She seemed to be the one who pulled Mama out of her melancholy and Brigitte loves her for it.
A bright smile is plastered upon her little face when she is given the praise. It was natural for Mama to say, but to know Alana thought her clever made the girl feel an excitement she could never explain. “We started reading Matilda in class today! I was allowed to read a whole paragraph out loud!”
