¤ Maternal-Love
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"
Psyke bit the inside of her cheeks as she ignored Lavender, trying to finish the baby formula. Her eyes winced tightly as Lavender took a breath and continued shrieking at the top of lungs. At the top of her lungs. If there was a collection of words that could properly explain something more powerful, Psyke would've used them to describe the noise level her daughter was emitting. A person couldn't yell any louder than their lungs could take, could they?
Magic. Augh---Psyke shot a glare down at the four-month-old. That little bitch was probably using magic to make her screaming ear-shatteringly loud. As Lavender thrashed and kicked in her bouncy seat, Psyke stood with her arms crossed tightly over her chest with the fiercest expression she could muster. She was channeling that frigid bitch McGonagall, that's exactly was she was doing, because there was no way she was going to budge and let this kid win the battle.
Mostly because Psyke was more than willing to start kicking and screaming herself. But she would not be brought down to an infant's level. She was the adult, she was the mother. She could handle a bratty little child who would stop screaming no matter what she did for her. Psyke had changed Lav's diaper, she had combed her little whisps of blonde hair and put a pretty pink bow in it, she had even given her a nice bath with baby safe bubbles that floated into funny shapes, and now she was trying to feed her. Couldn't she just wait a bloody minute?!
"It's ready, Baby!" Psyke finally let out, taking the bottle and running back toward the living room. She was smiling widely as she reentered, but her smile fell at the sight of Lavender fast asleep, head tiled to her shoulder.
"Damn it!" Psyke snapped loudly, waking up the baby. Waking her up and making her cry. For a moment Psyke stood there, angry at herself, at Lavender, and at the world, but she took a breath and hurried forward, "Here's your bottle, Lav Lav!"
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