Abby and Violet (Yuri Light Novel)

Abby was particularly clingy before leaving for the gym, so now, I was feeling a bit cold as I crossed my arms and rested my back against the front door. Chores and homework were pretty much all taken care of, so normally, I’d settle down and relax, but the question was, doing what exactly?

…Should I do a spa day?

That’d mean no showering with Abby, but that also meant that I’d be all soft and nice-smelling by the time she got back, and Abby would be very surprised and appreciative. A warm shower, exfoliating my body and scalp, applying the keratin mask to my hair, and then finally applying my facial and body lotions… yeah, that sounded better and better each second. Adding just a bit of my Fougere perfume, and Abby will completely melt all over me.

All right! Let’s go with that!

But first, I’d check on Sophie.

I found her where she has been for the past half an hour. She stood in the kitchen, working on today’s dinner. Claire was with her, hugging her waist from behind, flush against Sophie’s back, her chest squished, her chin on Sophie’s shoulder.

“Sophie?” Claire hummed sweetly, rubbing her cheek on Sophie’s.

“Hmm? What is it, Claire?”

“You’re stunning and great at cooking. I really love you for that, so let’s get married.”

“Dump Paul first, and then I might start to consider considering dating you,” Sophie told her in such a deadpan way that it was almost comical.

Claire produced a melodic giggle and pressed her lips against Sophie’s cheek, smooching her.

“So, you’re not even considering dating me yet? You’re no fun,” Claire chirped between kisses.

I’d be lying if I said that, sometimes, I hoped those two just got together as a couple, if they are going to act like that. Things would be simpler that way, and quite frankly, they looked great together.

Maybe the World, or even the universe, isn’t ready for that yet.

“Anyway, I should be going now,” Claire sighed, giving Sophie a final squeeze and smooch. “My little sis wants to have dinner with me, and she should be close to being done with her stream.”

As she passed by me, she smooched my forehead and told me to rest assured, she’d say that Abby and I said “hi” to Mathilda once they met up.

Then…

“Oh, Claire! One thing before you go.”

“I’ll text you once I get home, don’t worry,” Claire laughed, only her face now visible to Sophie. “Don’t want to make my woman worried, now do I?”

Sophie smiled at Claire, a mix of deep affection and a bit of annoyance, but she didn’t tell Claire not to call her that.

Claire blew Sophie a kiss and winked at her, finally taking her leave.

As soon as she was out the door, Sophie shook her body and complained that she was now cold after having had Claire pressed against her for so long.

“I can now see why you and Abby are so clingy during winter,” she joked.

I stepped up, now that there was more space in the kitchen, to see what she had been doing. It looked like chicken in some sort of marinade.

“I’m doing a sort of chicken masala,” she told me as she saw me staring into the bowl. “In there, there’s chicken breast, yoghurt, a bit of lemon juice, garlic, ginger, and a mix of spices. I’ll be adding it to the pan after sautéing onions and tomato with more spices and masala. Dad remembered having had this dish on one of his trips, so I decided to give it a try. I bet your Dad would love it too.”

“Are we having rice with it?”

“That, or baked potatoes, although I haven’t started any of that yet.”

I suggested the potatoes since we had some sweet ones she could mix in. Cook them slightly with a bit of milk or cream and salt, drizzle them with olive oil and some herbs, and put them in the oven until golden.

“That does sound like a good idea,” she said, shifting in place, something else now being in her mind. “Erm, could I ask you two things?”

“…Ok?”

She interlocked her fingers and bent them around, doing a motion in front of her chest as if she was pulling the words out of it.

“Do you mind if I invite your Dad to come eat with us?” was her first question.

“I’d actually prefer if he did have dinner with us,” I told her, skipping sharing my thoughts about her in particular inviting him over. Although… It’s not like she’s asking for her and him to dine alone, but in family, so I figure I was just complicating things. “I always feel a bit bad for leaving him eating alone when I spend the night here. Even if Oliver is there.”

“I’ll ask him if he won’t bring Oliver too,” she told me, giving a small, excited hop. It was cute how she reminded me of Abby, only a bit more contained. A lot more contained, actually. Like, Abby doesn’t have the frame to contain herself, while Sophie, being taller and… more voluminous, actually has the room to store her excitement.

Despite that, she seemed to no longer be capable of saying what she wanted, her cupped hands hanging over her lap until I asked what the second question she had was.

“Could you… could you check on my Dad?” she said, her voice growing into a shaky whisper. “Not just about Stan possibly coming over, but also about how he’s doing? Ever since he noticed, I’ve been getting really nervous about it, and he also seems uncomfortable around me so…”

Sometimes, I feel like I’m the only adult in the room, even though I’m actually the youngest one, even if for only a month's difference in relation to my wife.

Still, I agreed to it since I was going in the direction of his room anyway, it being by the bathroom. Also, how the hell was I supposed to deny her request after she told me that?

I knocked on his door and asked if I could come in once I heard his voice from the other side.

He was sitting inside, wearing a navy-blue robe over his pinstriped PJs. Even when in leisure clothes, he looked the part of an executive.

“It’s rare for you to come here,” he noted as he crossed a leg over the other. “Is something the matter?”

“No, erm, I just came here because Sophie got a bit excited trying out a new dish and ended up preparing too much, so she’ll be inviting my Dad to have dinner with us.”

“…I see,” he told me, his face unreadable for a second. “What is dinner anyway?”

I told him what Sophie had told me about the dish and why she thought about trying it, William doing a movement very similar to how Abby fluffed herself when happy. It was either the first time I ever saw him doing that, or it was the first time I noticed it. Either way, it answered the unquestioned question of where Abby got that from.

“She really didn’t need to go through all that trouble,” he said, his face beaming. “Now, I’m all excited about it too.”

Next up, it was the more delicate—annoying–subject.

I leaned against a bit of furniture and asked him how he’s been doing lately.

At first, he told me how he’s been doing in general, about work, his sleep, small things, that kind of stuff, but then he shifted the subject.

“But that’s not really what you’re asking about, is it?” he said, turning more serious. He uncrossed his legs to then cross them again, this time reversing them before continuing. “It’s been… frankly, it’s been a bit awkward sometimes. At the office, Stan and I are mostly busy, so things are normal enough, but when there’s a lull in the action… And it’s not just from my part, your Dad also seems a bit lost about it sometimes. Not as much about me in particular, more like how to act around Sophie when she stops by the office.”

I remembered the conversation Abby and I had about how my Dad would behave from the moment Sophie’s attraction for him was discovered. True to form, he was having a hard time figuring out how to act around her.

“…Do you think Sophie has a chance?”

“Huh!?”

“Sorry, never mind what I just said,” he told me, raising his arms. “It’s just… I don’t want Sophie to get hurt.”

“…Would you rather her having a chance than none at all?”

He uncrossed his legs and leaned over, elbows on the knees, hands clutched against his mouth, his eyes focused in thought.

“If I had to choose…” he told me. “First of all, I’d choose for her not to have fallen in love with him. However, I really haven’t been a present father to have any say in the matter, if I should ever have a say at all, that is. With that said… Maybe I’d rather the former, yes. Not just because I want to see my daughter happy, but because I see how lonely Stan can get sometimes. He’s still young, so I think he should find someone while he can. Unlike me, he still has time to start anew.”

“You… you also think about my Dad on this matter?”

“Is that strange?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested in my answer. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a genuine friend, so sometimes I wonder if I’m not being… oversentimental.”

To that, I chuckled, telling him that I’m probably the worst person he could ask that, since I, too, have been all alone for the longest time, having only very recently gotten Abby and a few friends in my life.

Maybe to cheer me up, he told me that maybe I was just waiting for the right people to come along. It wasn’t like that at all, though, I told him. Before Abby, I had this weird mentality of wanting a friend, and yet, I was extremely cold towards other people. Abby is the one person stubborn enough to start breaking down walls and making actual space in my heart.

“She tamed me, is what I’m getting at,” I told him. “There’s still a lot of work to do, but I’m ok if I stay like I am right now. I don’t go around seeking new people to meet and make friends with, but if they approach me with genuine interest, I don’t start kicking them off like a mule.”

“…Maybe Sophie is that person for your Dad?” William wondered out loud. “If not for her specifically, for someone else? As for Sophie… I’ll do my best to trust her judgement. Should I talk with her about this?”

“Please, do,” I answered a bit too fast.

He laughed at me, understanding the reason why I didn’t even wait a second between him finishing speaking and me giving him my part.

He got up, towering over me, and placed both hands on my shoulders, giving me a gentle shake as he thanked me for always helping everyone in the family. He apologised and thanked me for acting as the matriarch of the family.

“William, I mean it,” I told him as I started taking my leave, my face feeling hotter by the second. “You dare call me that again, and I’m burning all your shirts with the iron next time I’m ironing them.”

The shower wasn’t just an idea; it had been a necessity. I still needed some more decompressing before dinner, though, but that’s where the part about Abby and I snuggling in our bedroom before we went to eat came in.

“Ah! Traitor!” I heard Abby cry out just as I was leaving the bathroom in only a towel. “We were meant to shower together, but you already bathed!”

She was bouncing on the tips of her toes, a hint of sweat coming from her with each hop. It was endearing, very much so, but my mental bandwidth was still a bit low to truly appreciate it.

“Just shower and meet me in the bedroom, ok?” I told her as I leaned down to kiss her head.

“Ok,” she told me, her energy instantly levelling with mine. It was so good that I didn’t even have to say anything for her to understand me. “You go ahead and make yourself comfy.”

She went inside the bathroom, and I, into our bedroom.

I picked the most comfortable clothes I had, fluffy, warm socks that covered most of my legs, some soft cotton shorts that hung mid-thigh, and a long-sleeve t-shirt. I also prepared our couple shirt, the one Mathilda gifted us last Christmas, just in case we wanted to snuggle inside it instead of using a blanket.

After picking Abby’s clothes and settling myself on the bed, I just had to wait a bit for Abby to join in.

She walked in with small, quick steps, her legs making a swishing sound as her thighs rubbed on one another and the towel she was wrapped in. In an instant, she got into the clothes I picked for her—pretty much the same I was wearing, just in different colours, and she dove onto me, kneading my clothes and rubbing her nose on me, moaning and humming contentedly about how wonderfully nice smelling I was and how soft I felt. I wasn’t much different, hugging her tightly and caressing her back and hair, immersing myself in her scent, softness, and warmth.

“How was your training?” I asked her, the voice coming low and a bit gravely.

“Ah! Hear this, babe!” she chirped, lifting her head so we could look each other eye to eye. “I kinda sprained my back today!”

“You did?” I asked, frowning a bit in confusion. “Didn’t you tell me you were training legs today?”

“That’s what makes it all the more annoying!” she huffed, her cheeks adorably puffing out a bit. “How did I even manage to do that while doing walking lunges without carrying weights!? And right under the shoulder blade, too!”

I chucked that to one of those stupid, freak accidents that sometimes happen, like waking up with a sprain that could only have occurred during sleep, pulling her back in and asking her to tell me if I’m hurting her with how I was hugging her.

She let out a squeaky moan, saying that even if it hurt a bit, it was totally worth it, making me chuckle again.

Then, it came her turn to ask me what I had been up to—Abby pointing out with a bluntness that only she could be forgiven, that I looked a bit tired. I told her all about it, Abby listening as she kept kneading my clothes.

When I was done, she pulled away from me and tugged at my clothes, forcing me to turn over my stomach.

“All right! After all that, you totally deserve a super massage,” she told me. “And as for after dinner, we are snuggling inside our couple shirt, and I’ll do all the reading until you fall asleep.”

“In that case,” I moaned, already melting under her magic fingers that were doing miracles on my shoulders. “I’m getting you breakfast in bed in the morning.”

“Could it be two or three French toasts with lots of honey and cinnamon?” Abby asked, already slurring a bit.

“Fufu, you’ve gotten yourself a deal.”

“Yay!”

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