hi Elise!! I'm sure you're swamped with asks and schoolwork and such but if you can find the time could u write a lil something about apolline ep because god I've missed that lil baby :((( thanks! 💛
elise!! i would love u forever if u wrote a apolline oneshot thing or smth based off your dear apolline rendition of dear theodosia (which is AMAZING btw!! your voice is soo nice ah im in love)
Enjolras stirred, seeking Grantaire’s warmth between the covers. Still buried in that disorienting state between consciousness and oblivion, Enjolras settled his head against Grantaire’s nape. Yes, surely that was it, surely it had been the lack of Grantaire that had woken him up. He fondled his husband closer, ready to lose himself again, skin against skin.
A heartrending cry broke the nocturnal quietude of the house.
Oh. The reason of his awakening seemed suddenly a lot clearer. If Apolline had recently blessed them with a couple of cryless nights, she had no intention to let her parents rest on their laurels. Her hiccuping cries intensified and Enjolras heard a sleepy groan rise from Grantaire’s pillow.
“I’ll go,” Grantaire croaked, halfway between Earth and where ever he had been a second ago.
“No. No, I’ll go. Go back to sleep,” Enjolras yawned, getting rid of the covers.
Trying to collect himself, he sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes furiously. In the next room, Apolline kept calling for him with that mysterious spell babies can cast at will. Enjolras used to huff at the phrase: “You recognise your child’s cries among a million others because they hurt the most”. The saying, it turned out, was infuriatingly true.
Enjolras staggered to the nursery, his path guided but the little night lights Joly had bought them a while back. He had probably read as much if not more baby books than Enjolras and Grantaire combined. “Babies need reassurance at night, have that bee nighty night lamp thing”. “That bee nighty night lamp thing” had grown into a whole collection of animals that now decorated the nusery, fending off the darkness at all times.
Apolline let out a wet cough when Enjolras lifted her up, securing her in his arms. He could already tell from experience her nappy wasn’t the problem.
“Shhhhh, Papa’s here. I’m here.”
Enjolras wiped her tears away with his thumb and began rocking her gently, whispering sweet nonsense to settle her.
“Did you have a nasty nightmare? Did the mean bed bugs bit you, petit bout?”
For all answers, Apolline gave a new cry, though a much gentler one. Enjolras brought her against him, settling her head on his shoulder so that he could lay a reassuring kiss on her temple. He broke into a hum softly, assessing if it did anything to calm her down. Feeling the heaves of her chest weakening, Enjolras sang in a low voice :
“My dear Apolline, what to say to you? You have my eyes. You have your father’s mane…”
Mane was the word. Though blonde, her hair puffed and stuck in every direction, in the imagine of her father. It was high-time for her to meet her first hairdresser. Enjolras didn’t trust himself with a pair of scissors and a wiggling baby.
Once the song was over, Enjolras hovered his index over Apolline’s mouth. She immediately mistook it for her bottle and pull a confused expression when no milk was offered to her.
“Hungry, bout de chou?” Enjolras asked, trying to contain his sleepy laughter at her pout. “I’ll fix you something. The best of the best. How do you feel about that, mh? Sounds good? Sure sounds good to me.”