"Hey, paĉjo!" the little silver haired girl ran over to her father, who was lying somewhat limply on a bed in the corner of a dimly lighted room.
"Hey, bebo" Sjam-ho said as he weakly reached his hand out to hers. They held hands as the small girl smiled brightly at her father. She was a beautiful child of seven with wavy silver hair that touched just past her shoulders, slitted silver eyes, porcelain skin, small pointed ears. She looked just like her father. Except, he didn't look like himself.
Paler skin, light, tousled hair vastly different from his normal clean cut, his face was thinner and darker, but most noticeably, his eye. The iris of his left eye had turned a blood red and the sclera of his eye a dark black. It's how her family knew he was sick.
"Hey, patro. How are you feeling?" That was her older brother Yjorkí, her best friend, alongside her father, of course. He looked more like his mother, black hair, vivid purple eyes. But he did get his father's looks as well, thinner face, flatter eyes, almost asian-like, his more masculine features, his stronger chin, his formidable height of 6'8. He was the perfect mix.
"Better now that you're here, filo" he said smiling fondly at his son, still holding his daughter's hand. "Did you just get home from training?"
"Yes, patro." Yjorkí had been training to become a part of the military. He deeply enjoyed it and it had always been his dream. He wanted to be like his grandfather before him.
"Avo would be proud" her father said from his bed. "And how was your day, filino?"
The seven year old beamed at her father, "Oh, I had a lovely day, paĉjo!" she started "We learned about the Paspago! and now in class we're speaking only English!"
"You're getting much better at it, I can tell. Where's your sister?" Her father asked beaming at her.
"She said she didn't want to see you." the petite girl said as she lowered her head and bore a frown. Her father patted her on the head.
"It's alright, bebo" he started, "if she doesn't want to see me, it's okay. Now go help your patrino with dinner."
The cheerful girl ran into the kitchen where her mother was. Her mother, Krèvher, was beautiful. Short cut curly, jet black hair, entrancing purple slitted eyes, a pale yet warm complexion, and full cheeks. She had been making dinner for the family.
"Hi panjo!" the light haired girl said. she looked around the room to find her baby brother, Skàjah sitting at the table a few feet away from the kitchen. Though he was young, one could tell he had his mother's thick, curly black hair. His small eyes were a sweet magenta colour. He cooed at his spot at the table. He seemed quite satisfied with the two small sticks he used to push a tiny wooden ball around.
"Hello, Skàjah" the seven year old said as she pat his head and walked past him and up the stairs to her sister's room, which also happened to be hers.
"You don't have to come see me, fratino, I saw you not two seconds ago" said her twin sister. Though they were twins, they didn't look much alike. Her sister had their mother's black hair, yet it sat flat on her shoulders. She had her father's silver eyes. She had high cheekbones and the rest of her mother's beauty. Her pale skin had no warmth like her mother though.
"I know, I just wanted to see you again, fratino." the energetic girl said as she bounded back downstairs to help her mother with dinner.
On her way down she heard something strange. She stopped. It sounded like a cross between a cry and a wheeze. Her father. She ran down the stairs to find the kitchen vacant. Her mother had gone into her and her father's shared room. She ran to the door only to bump into it when it opened. Yjorkí stepped out closing the door and helped her up from her new spot on the floor.
"He's ok, fratino. Patrino is in there with him," he said with a faint smile, crouching down to her level. "You should give them a minute before going in, come this way." he said sweetly. He had taken up the role of the father in the family since Sjam-ho had gotten sick last year. The girl nodded her head slowly staring blankly at the closed door for a moment before he took her hand and led her back to the kitchen. He brought her back to Skàjah at the table.
"He sure seems to like bastonoj, doesn't he? I remember when you played this when you were little and you'd always lose the ball behind your back. It was pretty funny." he said chuckling lightly.
"hey! that's not funny!" was the indignant cry of the younger. She bore a pout as her brother laughed at her. "I bet you did silly things as a child."
"Dont change the topic, fratino" he said ruffling her hair with a grin. "I can remember how funny you were clearly."
As the girl was about to retort, her mother popped out of the room in which her father hadn't left for so long.
"Bebo, your father wants to see you." the eldest said reluctantly. The seven year old ran into the room and straight to her father as her mother left.
"Hey, bebo." he said wearily.
"What's wrong? are you ok?"
"yes, karulino, everything is okay."
"Why were you yelling, then?" she asked, tears starting to form in her eyes.
"It doesn't matter, koro, I'm okay now" he said stroking her hair as he pulled her close. "listen, bebo, I want you to do something for me, okay?" he said picking her head up so that she met his eyes.
"Ok, paĉjo" she said as she took a fist to wipe away her tears.
"I want you to promise to take care of your panjo, I want you to promise to take care of your brothers and sister and to be a good girl ok?" he said not breaking eye contact with her.
"ok, paĉjo" she hiccuped, "I promise."
"You'll always be my little girl, bebo, always. Don't you ever, ever, forget that, okay?"
"I won't, paĉjo, I promise." she said sniffling.
"You're my beautiful little girl." He brought her in closer to the bedside and hugged her while he continued to stroke her hair. He didn't want to get her sick but he'd be damned if he couldn't hug his daughter.
At that point Yjorkí had popped his head in the door.
"Patro, fratino, dinner is ready." he said plainly while giving his father a half concerned look.
"go on, then. Be a good girl" The eldest said to his daughter. "I'll see you later" he said with a warm yet tired smile as he let her go.
But that would be the last time he would talk to her.
But not for her.
Hey there friends! This be my new story, and my first (though I do have many in the making) so pleeeeease don't shoot me in the back for writing complete and utter shit :))). I don't know if I'll be updating this regularly, so if by any chance you want me to, drop a quick review just asking me to (no real review needed). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this crap, eterna sorto, amikoj