Crash!
Crash!
Arthur looked up from his book at the loud noise that had just echoed through the house, trying to work out what had happened. He jumped up, however, and threw his book to one side as he heard the heart-wrenching cry of a young child.
Running through the house and into the dining room, he found the source of the noise. The first thing he noticed was a bloody expensive and antique vase smashed into pieces on the floor. The second thing was-
"Alfred!"
The blond, blue-eyed toddler was sat on the floor crying as if the world had ended. Any anger that Arthur had felt when he saw his vase was broken instantly melted away as he bent down and took the boy into his arms.
"Shh, Alfred, it's okay," Arthur cooed, holding his head and swaying soothingly. "Are you hurt?" He pulled back a little to look at the toddler, who had stopped crying, but his lip was still quivering. Alfred held out his hand, which had a small cut on it, with just a little bit of blood seeping out.
"Ouch."
Arthur smiled; at least it wasn't too bad, and carried Alfred into the bathroom to rinse out his hand under the tap.
"Is that better?" Arthur asked after gently dabbing Alfred's podgy hand dry with a soft towel. Alfred shook his head and held out his hand again, pouting. Arthur laughed and took his hand in his own then carefully placed his lips on the cut, kissing it better. "Now?"
Alfred's little face lit up again, as he laughed and put his arms over Arthur's chest. "Sowwy for bweaking your pot, Iggy,"
"That's fine. You're much more important to me than a silly old vase. I didn't want you to be hurt." He replied, hugging the boy to him. He found a small bandage from a drawer and wrapped it around Alfred's hand. Arthur was about to put him back down to carry on playing, but changed his mind.
"Perhaps you'd be safer playing somewhere where I can see you."