[1] 𝘿𝙀𝙑𝙄𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 | 𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨

! 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦: 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘺

➸ 2021
📍MADRIPOOR
╰─────────╯

"I HUNGRY."

Galina bounced him up for a moment to adjust the young boy on her hip as she shut the door behind herself. "Do you like mac and cheese?" she questioned in a soft voice.

"I wuv mac n' cheese!" he uproared excitedly, clapping his hands together.

She genuinely giggled at him, scrunching her nose up at him playfully before crouching down to set him on the ground.

The little boy goes running deeper into the apartment before hurling himself onto the large couch in the middle of the room.

Trying to get him here and wiping his memory was the easy part — she had stolen and hacked a quinjet a year or so ago for her grand escape so getting back to Madripoor with zero recollection of what had occurred was simple.

Trying to shop with him was a totally different beast.

The boy didn't stop — he had to touch everything, had to look at everything, wanted everything.

She's barely had him for a day and she's already exhausted...but at the same time, it was comforting.

She has no idea how she's gonna detach herself from him once she finds him a loving home preferably somewhere in the states.

But, she finds herself relishing in what could've been.

"Mommy?" that tiny squeaky voice called.

To be clear, she didn't mind wipe him to make him think she was his mother.

She instantly looked up from the bag of groceries, nonetheless as if her regular name had been called.

"Yes, sweetheart?" she responded softly as she continued to rummage.

The little boy pointed towards a nearby hallway, the hall that led to her bedroom and bathroom. "Daddy's home!" he excitedly said with a toothy smile.

Galina narrowed her eyes at him in confusion before turning her head towards the archway...and her blood ran cold.

A familiar Sokovian twin stood there with crossed arms and a bemused and puzzled expression, leaning against the wall non-chalantly.

How the hell..

He had changed within the year and a half though, for sure.

His blonde tips were dyed to his original hair color, a chocolate brown, and he allowed stubble to begin to gather along his jaw and around his plump lips.

Wait, hello, why did you describe his lips as "plump."

She inhaled a sharp breath as she held eye contact with him, mustering a tight smile. "Sweetheart, how about you watch some television, yeah?" she suggested without looking away from the man.

With a wave of her hand, the television flicked on and changed to some sort of kids channel — the voices of Timon and Pumbaa echo against the walls.