Ricardo stands outside, staring up at the stars twinkling peacefully in the sky above. Andre is playing in the grass nearby, trying to let off some steam before bed, and Mariana is settled in his arms, also staring up at the stars. Nearby, Alicia is helping Clara toddle around in the grass, her slow walk catching his eye. She is, they all are, growing up so quickly. He's not sure what to think of the world that will be waiting to greet them when they're old enough, all he can do is hope that it'll be a good one. A safe one. A kind of.
He presses his lips to Mariana's forehead and smiles down at her as she blinks back at him, waving her fists lightly. "Papa," she says. Talking is easier for her than Clara, while walking is slow for her. It is interesting to him that they're twins, but that they've both got so vastly different strengths.
"Yeah, baby, papa's here," he murmurs, looking over as Andre runs over.
"It gets dark so early, papa," he says, pressing his hands into the folds of his father's pants, holding on.
"I know," Ricardo says. "That's what winter does. It'll be alright though, you'll go to bed and the sun'll be back, bright and warm as ever."
"Alright, papa," Andre murmurs, looking up at Ricardo with a small smile. "I believe you."
It's so easy, that trust. Ricardo hopes he never loses it. That the twins never lose it.
Alicia and Clara join them. "Let's go inside," Alicia says. "It's getting cold out. The babies need their baths, then a nice long sleep."
"Alright," Ricardo says, finding her hand in the gloom and squeezing it. "Let's go."
As he follows them in, Ricardo pauses in the doorway and looks back into the darkness. All he can do is his best, and hope that it'll be enough, for his children, for their future. For everything.