I may not always know what's right, but I know I want you here tonight.
Like most men, Mallos couldn’t stand hearing a woman cry. He gritted his teeth against the piercing wail while Espinosa, the head cook, put her arms around the inconsolable woman in what was clearly meant to be a comforting gesture.
“Where’s the baby, Fatima?” He half-shouted over the noise, resisting the urge to put his fingers in his ears.
She howled something unintelligible and gestured down the hall towards Ned’s room. Espinosa raised her eyebrows at Mallos in an expression which clearly read, I sympathise, but at the same time… she left the toddler on his own?!
“Take the day off!” Mallos ordered, making a mental note to shunt her sideways into a different avenue of work. Find a new nanny was going to have to be added to his to do list too.
He turned and headed down the corridor, shaking his head at the sounds of distress behind him. The words my boyfriend, my boyfriend were now just about audible over the general weeping. If any accident had befallen Ned, Mallos would personally make sure that Fatima’s boyfriend would be unable to make anyone cry ever again.
The door was ajar but still creaked when he pushed it open. Ned was kneeling on his floor with his back to him, bent over something which was hard to see from this angle. Mallos released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and crossed the room at a slightly more relaxed pace, hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his trousers. Rather than standing over the toddler, he knelt down beside and slightly behind him, peering over his shoulder. It was a book; one of Ángela’s, from the look of it. One page was covered in text, but its partner was sporting a glossy colour image pulled directly from Medieval fantasy. An army of knights mounted on armoured horses took front and centre stage, while a dragon blew fire on a helpless village in the background. The man in the centre of the picture, whom Ned was pointing at excitedly, was wearing only a small amount of royal regalia which many adults might have missed.
“That’s King Alfazar.” Mallos informed him, completely making up the name. “Also known as Alfazar… the Tickler.”
He folded his arms around Ned to stop him from escaping and tickled him mercilessly on the torso. After thirty seconds or so, he ceased the tickling and converted the gesture into a hug.
“Looks like it’s just you and me today, amigo.” He released the toddler. “What do you want to do today?”
Mallos
I've learned enough to know I'm never letting go