Michael
Her blonde hair rests against my chest, the force of her head pressing it into place. Her eyelashes flutter softly in her sleep, and Blake's freshly French Manicured hands curl into balls. The pale pink of her night gown contrasts with the burgundy of the couch, and I'm worried that I notice it. Hanging around the Aphrodite Girls has really affected my manliness. That and buying diapers. Once you shop for diapers you really can't go back. But I wouldn't. This crazy crash-ride called "parenthood" might be an unfamiliar road, but this little room. This apartment, with all it's quirks and overly-friendly neighbors is the home that we have. The home that I want for my wife. The home that I've prepared for my daughter. I consider waking Blake, her hands are clenched and he head keeps moving. But I'll let her hide from her demons. She has me to lean on while she sleeps, when she's awake she likes to be Strong and Brave and Elegant. She likes to be catty, and self-centered. She's none of those things... Well maybe one. She's definitely my little piece of Perfection. She might be lost, but I have her in my arms. And when she wakes up, she'll know that she is home.