Tempest (Royce/Winston)

Epilogue | One

Elijah could hear soft giggling from where he stood in his small kitchen. He was leaning against the counter as he tried his best to get a grasp on the French words that were on the recipe card that was in his hand. Elijah couldn't read French, but he was learning. He could understand simple words, but when it came to long sentences, he was a bit of a lost cause.

Elijah stared at the letters that formed words that he couldn't understand. He could feel his frustration rising but it immediately lowered when another loud bout of giggles made its way to his ears. With a sigh, Elijah pulled out one of the four chairs and took a seat at the kitchen table.

"We're going to starve" he mumbled quietly before placing his head in his hands.

Elijah only had a few minutes to be alone before he heard the familiar 'pitter patter' of feet. His lips were turned upwards in a smile before he even lifted his head.

Elijah didn't give himself time to process what his little one had gotten into. All the man saw was red, and in his mind, red was bad. Red meant blood, and blood meant an injury, and an injury was nothing good.

"Oh my god!" He jumped up from his chair and scrambled to the little girl who had splotches of something red on her skin. "What happened? Baby, are you alright? I need to call 911, no, not 911, I mean 112. Where does it hurt?"

The girl smiled brightly and shook her head, "I'm not hurt, daddy".

Elijah shook his head a little and let a look of confusion cross his face as he checked for any open wounds. "I don't understand".

"Daddy, look! I made a new color!" A little boy yelled in excitement as he ran into the kitchen and came to a halt beside his sister. He too had splotches of something on his skin, but only it wasn't red, it was an odd teal color.

"Oh" Elijah breathed out a sigh of relief before laughing at his own panic. "Have you both gotten into papa's oil paints again?"

Elijah didn't need an answer from either child, he knew his children well enough to know that the two loved to try and do the same thing as their papa.

"You know papa doesn't want you guys in his art room".

"But we want to make art too" the young boy explained.

"I know, Nathaniel, but you know the rules. Your papa spends a lot of money on his art materials, they're really important to him".

"Sorry, daddy" the little girl apologized, her bottom lip beginning to quiver.

"Don't cry, Olivia, love".

"Papa's going to be mad at us".

"He's not" Elijah shook his head, his ears picking up on the sound of the front door being unlocked. "That's him right now, go greet him, please".

Both Nathaniel and Olivia looked at Elijah with hesitance. Elijah motioned for them to leave the kitchen, a little smile of encouragement on his face. He watched his two children leave and stood back up. He could hear the both of them talking to their papa.

Elijah returned to the counter and picked up the recipe card. He quietly tried to pronounce the words to himself, but huffed in annoyance when he couldn't.

"They've gotten into my oil paints again".

Elijah turned around at the voice that he'd known for years. He smiled at Ray who stood in doorway of the kitchen.

"Yeah" he sighed, "I'm sorry, I should've been watching them. I know how you don't like it when they get into your art supplies. I heard them giggling and I just assumed they were playing..."