Avos'

𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

THIS IS UNCOMFORTABLE.

Tommy wakes up to the unpleasant feeling of something bony and pointy jabbing him in the kidney. He groans in his state of half-sleep, momentarily wondering why it had been a good idea to let Oksana share his bed if it meant being stabbed at first light. He goes to push her away- as gently as possible, of course- but he grumbles when he doesn't touch familiar skin and the arm is far too small to be hers.

He peels his eyes open, groggy and disoriented, and realizes that this discomfort is entirely Charlie's fault.

It takes him a second to remember the thunderstorm last night which inevitably led to holding his promise to Charlie that he could sleep with them.

Somehow, his son has managed to take over Tommy's side of the bed, leaving him and Oksana with too much room on their side. He's turned toward Oksana, their hands centimeters apart, and Tommy considers whether they've slept like that all night.

Something warm and comfortable fills him. Oksana's unconscious smile, the way Charlie presses into her side as he shifts, it's too adorable. From a different standpoint, they look like one big happy family, like this is something that happens often enough, that it's a part of their normal routine.

Panic should be setting in, but there isn't any. Just like when they discussed Charlie's dietary needs, and she nearly claimed him as hers, there's just a vague feeling of new longing.

He looks at the clock on the side table and notices that he's woken up just in time. Five forty-five on the dot. Just like every other day of his life.

He chuckles because it's far too early for Charlie to be up, which means it's far too early for Oksana to be up, which means that either of them starting their day right now would be a nightmare for everyone involved. He'll do what he always does since Oksana's joined him. He'll carefully slip out, make sure not to wake her, part with a confusing kiss on the forehead, and start his day.

Charlie sighs contently as he nuzzles his head under Oksana's chin and she smiles even more as she throws her arms around him.

It's time to get up, but Tommy decides that today, he'll sleep in.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Tommy stares at the photograph in his hands, the black and grey picture taking up too much of his focus when he should be busying himself with work.

He looks up at the only photograph that's ever been on his desk. It's a beautiful snapshot of Grace, hair perfectly pinned with an ethereal look about her, and it rests proudly at the center of everything.

So beautiful. No hint of a smile on her face, but she never needed one. Grace's smiles were reserved for personal meetings, coffee with the Lady's Club, or late nights in their bed, not in elegant photographs for a woman of her station.

Sometimes, when he looks at her photo, he wishes she were smiling. It's been two years, and it's hard to picture it in his mind. It's still there, he's sure of it, but he wonders how long it'll take for it to blur before it's barely even recognizable.

Did she have a toothy smile? A cupid's bow on her top lip? A tilt one way or the other?

He's drawn back to the photograph in his hand, the one that was left for him in the post this morning. He wishes it were a threatening letter, maybe even another Black Hand, perhaps a boring invoice, anything but what it really is.