I Eat Da Bugs!

The Next Morning

The sunlight filtered softly through the sheer curtains, casting delicate, almost ethereal patterns across the wooden floor. The apartment, usually a sanctuary of stillness in the early hours, felt... different. Alive. There was a faint sound from the bedroom—a shift of tiny feet beneath the covers, a soft sigh of sleepy breath, and the gentle creak of a bed as someone woke.

The air was thick with the smell of toast, eggs, and something just a little overcooked. Maverick squinted at the pan, muttering a quiet curse under his breath as he scraped away a charred patch of egg. He wasn't a terrible cook—he knew his way around a kitchen—but he wasn't used to cooking for someone whose idea of a balanced meal was glitter glue and jelly beans.

He'd barely slept the night before. After reading Natellie's letter, he'd sat up for hours, his mind spinning. Anger, confusion, and an aching sense of responsibility had kept him awake, the words pulling him in every direction. But when he'd checked on Vivi after 3 a.m. and found her clutching a pillow as if it were her most cherished possession, cheeks flushed from sleep—he'd known. There was no going back now. She was here. She was his to protect.

A tiny yawn broke the silence, soft and barely there.

He turned.

There she was.

Her messy hair, a halo of golden chaos around her face, hung loosely, and the too-big T-shirt she wore trailed behind her like a small, sleepy ghost. She padded into the room, blinking slowly, eyes still heavy with sleep. For a long moment, Maverick simply watched her, the strange tug at his chest growing stronger by the second. She looked so... small. So fragile. Yet, in her presence, there was a strength that reached into the depths of him, stirring feelings he didn't know he was capable of.

She rubbed her eye with one small fist, then looked up at him.

"May-vee?"

That imperfect, slightly mangled version of his name melted him in a way he couldn't explain. His heart gave a soft lurch, something warm and unspoken blooming inside him.

"Yeah, baby girl?" he whispered, his voice softer than he'd intended, as if to protect this moment—this fleeting, delicate slice of time.

She looked at him again, as if making sure he was really there. As if it wasn't just another dream, another world that would vanish the moment she woke up.

"Food?" she mumbled, the word coming out all garbled and sleepy.

Maverick laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, yeah. Food's almost ready."

He turned back to the stove, but it wasn't the scrambled eggs or toast that kept his attention—it was the weight of her presence in the room. The way she was here now. With him.

And that tiny version of his name, spoken with such innocent trust... It was like everything he'd been running from, everything he'd feared, suddenly didn't matter. Because here was this little girl, standing in his kitchen, needing him in a way he hadn't imagined was possible.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Maverick crouched down to her level, holding out the cup like it was some sort of secret offering. "Morning, kiddo. You hungry?"

The little girl didn't just nod—she gave him a full-on, enthusiastic head bob, so vigorous her hair bounced around her face like a fluffy puffball in a breeze. Her eyes were bright, wide open, full of that spark only kids seem to have, as though every day is an adventure waiting to happen.

She was wrapped in her blanket like a little wizard who'd managed to escape from "nap jail"—it was draped over her shoulders and cascaded down to her feet. Barefoot, bold, and completely unbothered by the chilly morning, she made her way across the kitchen floor with a determination that made her seem far older than her size.

Then, without a second of hesitation, she climbed onto the tallest kitchen stool. To anyone else, it might have looked like a mountain too high to scale, but to her, it was just the perfect perch to launch her next great performance. With a proud grin, she grabbed the spoon from the countertop. Instead of using it like anyone might to eat, she gripped it like a microphone, as if she were about to announce something important to an entire crowd.

And then, just like that, she burst into song.

🎶 "Doo-doo DOOOO,

Eggy in the pan goes BOP,

Doo-doo,

Toast go zoom an' jelly drop,

Doo-doo,

Juice go sploosh an' spill on cat,

Doo-doo,

Oopsie socks! I did not mean dat!!~" 🎶

She kicked her little legs back and forth, completely lost in the rhythm of her impromptu song, her face lit up like she'd just discovered a new planet. With one final flourish, she added a grand statement that left Maverick blinking in mild confusion:

"An' I EAT DA BUGS!!"