Violent violet and bubblegum pink

He nods, his hair brushing her neck, and turns his face into her shoulder.

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Nymphadora presses a kiss to the crown of his head. "Love you."

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There is a telling sniffle.

"I love you, too."

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"Shh. Gonna be okay. Really."

She rocks him back and forth, just a bit, and rests her cheek on his bright hair.

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"Really fucked up," he mumbles into her skin, breathing her in, trying to stay calm.

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"A bit," she concedes, her eyes slipping closed. "But we all have, now and again."

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"'M the dinh. Not s'posed to fuck things up."

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A soft, breathy laugh. "As you've said to me when I say things like that... fuck off, sweetheart."

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He laughs despite himself, and lifts his head to look at her.

"I love you."

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"Yeah, I know."

'Dora half-smiles and leans in to kiss him on the cheek.

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Bernard's eyes slip closed, and he leans his forehead against her temple.

"Funny. Haven't done anything to fix it, but I feel better just having talked to you about it."

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"Glad I can help," she murmurs, her lips still against his skin.

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"Ew," Sunny remarks helpfully.

Not really. It's nice when they get along and kiss and stuff, cause that's love. And stuff.

But some of the kids at day care say "ew" at kissing and she's picked it up.

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Bernard turns, wiping under one eye quickly.

"Ew? I'll show you ew." He crawls over and zerberts her horribly.

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"Ew!" she repeats, but this time it's a bit more meant.

She's giggling anyway.

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Snickering, 'Dora leans over and pulls the toddler onto her lap, hugging her tightly and kissing the top of her head.

"How's my Sunshine? Wanna join our little picnic?"

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"Maybe," she says craftily.

So craftily.

Are there, perhaps...crunchy things?

Are there, perhaps...sweet things?

Such questions must be investigated before commitment can be made.

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Another kiss, from Bernard, to her cheek.

"We have warm cider. 'S a very Fall thing to be having." He looks at the tray. "Looks like... ginger snaps, too."

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"Okay," she says, because ginger snaps are worth it.

Maybe not chocolate-and-walnut-chip cookie worth it, but worth it.

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Mummy hands Sunny a biscuit, and then lets her take a careful sip of the hot cider before having a drink, herself. "What've you been doing this afternoon, lovely?"

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"Brooding," she says, proudly.

It is a New Word she has heard more than once in the bar.

As far as she can understand, it involves having a scowly sort of face and occassionally looking deeply into your cup as if the universe is to much to deal with.

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Bernard chokes on his cider.

"I'll have to get you a copy of Camus and some clove cigarettes." He pops a cookie into his mouth. "You'll have to wait on the vermouth till you're 17 or so, though."

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