little gods

REMI

the lullaby

"Perfetto!" The boy who had once learned such words himself would have never imagined that he would have son to teach them to one day. Nor would the young man he grew up to be, believe that he could do so without feeling the constant sting of loss. It's still there, in the recesses of his mind, but nestled as it is amongst much more sweet memories, it doesn't hurt quite the way Remi always believed it would.

"And how do we say sky?" He wonders, reaching out for their sieves and handing one to his son. What Ludo needs these stones for, especially collected in this way, Remi has no idea. That it makes a perfect outing for father and son was likely not at all part of the herald's thinking, but the alchemist is happy to take it as such just the same.

Shoeless, it takes but a moment for Remi to roll his pant legs up to the knees and wade into the water. "Now, why don't you show me how to do it." Mateo has never done this before, and the alchemist is all too eager to hear how this is meant to go from the creative and curious mind of his son.

Maybe it's my fault for forgetting
Who I was when I was mine.

I've come to realize this one thing:
You couldn't fix what I couldn't find

Code taken from Sky who is utter perfection