make viktor blush (with parental adoration): lizaveta runs up and puts a flower crown on his head before poking his nose.
( make my muse blush | accepting )
His attention focused on the scattered mess of papers in front of him, a deep frown was stretched across his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he sat by the table, his fingers tapping idly on the wooden surface — if there was something he hated more than chores, it was paperwork. The dullest task, required hours for the simples of things, visas, expenses, marriage, adoption papers in his case — couldn’t ticking a few boxes be enough ? Did he have to prove all kinds of documentary for someone who wouldn’t even glance at them ? He was her father after all — couldn’t that be enough ?
He was a figure skater, and through his whole life he hadn’t been particularly good with numbers — At the thought of the hours he spent in front of that damned table, he got even more pissed off, having half a mind to tear all of it apart — however, no matter that he was an
impulsiveman, he knew better — he hadn’t been a part of Lizaveta’s life for so long, yet he was set on fixing it as best as he can, even if it meant days of paperwork, weeks even. He’d been an awful father already. Shaking his head, he had turned back to the papers, trying to calculate the tax returns and the expected income of the year. Did he actually know that ? He thought of asking Yakov once again but it was the middle of the night ( and he’d already bothered the man the whole day ).With a deep, resonating sigh, he put his head on the table with a loud thump. Besides the doubts running through his mind, the idea of getting rejected was so much worse. He’d finally met his daughter and had barely begun to get acquainted with her, to get to know her — if a bunch of civil servants told him he was an unfit parent, that he wasn’t cut out for it, he had no idea what to do. The crushing guilt since he had learned was already pushing him down, making him feel desperate,
irredeemable. Was he going to be as useless as his parents ? Or was he an awful parent already ? If this last resort, last chance burned down — would he too —Then the sound of small footprints approached and he sat up quickly, just in time a handmade flower crown was put on the top of his head. He let out a small laugh, his voice rough and teary, he hadn’t even realized how moved he was until then. Shaking his head and blinking the
emotionsaway, he did blush as his daughter poked his nose. How she knew what to do exactly never cease to astound him. Turning around in his chair, he knelt down and wrapped his arms around his daughter, his hold gentle as he spoke. “Спасибо, cолнышко моё.”
