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 tattooed on my skin, -- elliot/ethereal
 Posted: May 7 2016, 04:39 PM

skadoo skadae do u know da wae

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| eli http://i629.photobucket.com/albums/uu12/thewelladmin/redheart_zps7quzdxl5.png/Ethereal | the meadows | winter 5 | short one again yh? idk |

She was fairly certain that she wasn't supposed to know about Elliot's own birthday, because it had never been mentioned to her. But on one of the many occasions where she had been out with Elliot and Oliver, the little toddler had slipped to her that daddy's birthday was coming up soon when Elliot hadn't been listening, and Odette knew, in her heart, that she just couldn't let it go by without getting him something. It probably wasn't wanted or expected, but now that she knew when it was, Odette wasn't about to let one of the only people who she was closest to go without much happening on their birthday. She just didn't know how to approach the entire thing.

She had gone up to Westhaven not in a dissimilar way that she had when she had gone shopping for Oliver's present, and she was considering buying Elliot a set of books. But even she knew that there was no point to that when he pretty much lived in the library, so she had agonized for a good few hours about what she was going to get him. But an old style stationary shop had caught her eye, and she saw the perfect set when she walked through the door - a pen set that she eventually got personalised with his name on it. Something small and simple, but something that he could keep forever.

While she was at it, she also bought some ink cartridges for the ink pen.

It was the morning of his birthday and Odette was having a terrible sense of deja vu when she walked down the drive towards their house, the small box wrapped neatly up with a little bow and his birthday card taped to the top of it. And when she stood in front of their house, she had the deja vu sense come back even stronger. It was just like when she was returning his coat. She wanted to wait for him to open the door, but she was far too chicken to, even now.

So she hurried up to the door, cleared a bit of snow from the front mat so that it didn't soak through the wrapping paper, knocked on the door when she was satisfied and then hurried away again, putting her hood up on her fluffy winter coat to protect her face from the cold morning breeze.

Happy birthday.
 Posted: Jun 25 2016, 10:57 AM

coolest kid this side of the atlantic

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Elliot A. Mercier
"Never learned to climb a tree but I would try, just to show you what I'd done"

Elliot celebrated birthdays, he just didn’t celebrate his own. It wasn’t important to him, which was unusual in how Elliot fretted every year over Oliver’s birthday and how he could make it the best one yet, the most memorable, despite the fact the memories would no doubt have faded by the time the boy reached double digits.

Because of how he felt, Elliot didn’t broadcast his birthday. He received a card from his father and a small gift the Friday before his birthday, and he always received some form of ‘secret’ surprise from Oliver, one that was not so secret in that Elliot had already wandered into his room a few times to watch the toddler’s hurried response in covering up colourful scrawls on a piece of card. He didn’t receive anything else, though, nothing from his sister despite that he always sent a card through the post for her. Elliot supposed the quiet and unknown was how he liked it.

Oliver, on the other hand, was a child. Birthdays were something magical, mystifying, and they needed to be celebrated. His father had never explicitly said to him that he hadn’t told anybody his birthday was soon. After all, why would he? Elliot forgot himself most of the time, only reminded when Oliver asked for a piece of card, glitter, and crayons. Oliver had mentioned it secretly to Odette many times in passing, as well as to Elliot’s few other friends, as if he was coordinating a big surprise for his daddy.

His birthday was a routine at this point. Oliver never faltered from his habit of rushing into his father’s room the moment he woke, the sheets being pulled on as Oliver climbed up the bed being what stirred Elliot, but the thump of a toddler launching himself on top of him being what jolted Elliot awake. It was nice. Elliot didn’t celebrate his birthday, but he still loved the early morning snuggle from his son and a brand new picture to add to his carefully looked-after collection.

After that, the day took a normal approach. It was a Monday so even if he’d wanted to (which he hadn’t), Elliot had still needed to go to work at the library. It was opening hours as normal, though they could have been abnormal with no consequences, what with the sparse nature of library attendees. He’d set about making pancakes, fluffy ones with a special dollop of ice cream for Oliver, and the two were sat together on the kitchen floor, cross-legged, when there was a knock at the door.

Elliot hadn’t opened the curtains in the living room yet; light shone solely into the quaint cottage through the kitchen window. He was puzzled, although Oliver immediately began to bubble with excitement, rambling that it must have been a special delivery for his daddy. Elliot put his fork down, stood up, and unlocked and opened the door. There was nobody there, though the sense of déjà vu meant that Elliot automatically looked down to the floor. There was a package there, a present delicately wrapped, and Elliot didn’t even question it – he knew immediately who it was from.

• • •

Oliver glanced over at his father with curious eyes. Elliot was sat at his desk, in the library, head down and engaged in carefully writing a letter. Oliver wasn’t intrigued by what he was writing, nor did he notice that his father had a new pen, but what he was curious about was the smile. Oliver had never seen one like it before.

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