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𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍, chapter thirty-two! ━━
TOMMY sat in the kitchen of his brother's house, his nephew bouncing on his knee as he drank his cup of coffee. he had been assigned the babysitter role due to the fact that Tubbo had to review the construction plans for the blown up areas of L'manberg and Ranboo chose to tag along.
they were a cute couple, always together and always happy.
both tommy nor michael could be seen by anybody, so they sat there in the kitchen, trying to think of a fun activity to do while they waited. it was 12pm on a thursday and they were quite literally bored out of their minds.
"mommy." michael muttered, looking up at tommy as he held onto his duck which he'd dubbed benson. "it's tommy, with a T, michael. but yes?" he responded, taking another sip of his coffee.
"can we draw? i wanna draw." the small piglin begged, sliding off of tommy's lap and pleading with his puppy eyes. "of course we can! no need to beg, michael!" tommy exclaimed.
he hated the idea of having to beg someone to do something, he had to do that his entire life and hated it, so why let anyone do the same to him if he knew it didn't feel nice?
with a smile on his face he picked up his nephew and placed him on his hip, taking him over to his brother's storage closet and scanning through the items in hopes he'd find some crayons and paper.
"my drawing book is at home." michael whispered in his uncles ear. "awh man, i'm sorry michael, we can't go there." tommy frowned as he set him down. "but... but why not?" michael questioned, following tommy to the living room.
"because your dad will kill me." he laughed. "which one? boo or bo?" he smiled, sitting on the couch and patting the seat next to him. tommy smiled and sat, "bo."
"he would be really mad." michael agreed.
a silence fell amongst them, the sound of the old coffee pot struggling to make coffee echoing throughout the house neither of them called home.
"how old are you again?" tommy looked down at him with a lifted brow. "four... i think."
"hmmmm..." he smiled.
michael swung his legs to the tick of the clock that hung on the wall behind them, clicking his tongue along the beat and even moving his head too.
