His hands soft so you'll never know,
And my head is a hazard shell
I'm biting down on a burning rope slow

OPEN - outfit

Erik had rarely felt -or effectively been- as out of place as in this very moment and location. He didn't know much, or anything, about children. He would go right head and admit that, yes. He didn't know how to deal with Alexander's daughters, even if the man had told him that he didn't expect Erik to be involved with them all that much. They were children, however, and he thought it rather cruel to not be at all involved with them. They were his step-daughters, after all, no matter how out of his element it was he would try to at least do a passable job while he was around them. Admittedly, however, England wasn't where Alexander would want to raise them. He knew that. Erik was too British for their people's tastes and the girls couldn't grow up like that. Them living away from him was unacceptable, however, and Alexandria had been in charge of them for long enough. He had noticed that he didn't really even know how to talk to them. They were children, yes, but they weren't stupid. He also refused to make faces or voices or anything of the sort. They had enough of their own belongings and they didn't lack anything in toys or clothing at all. Their books, however, were all in Icelandic. That was fine, of course, since that was their first tongue. In fact, Sigrid was only now starting to talk at all. She was one, however, and apparently that was the average age for first words anyway.

The fact was, however, that Erik worked all day and left early after having breakfast with them and came back perhaps an hour before dinner. Or directly to sit at the dinner table, actually. Alexander was starting to work again, on his metal charming and such, and couldn't be expected to be in charge of the girls constantly. Iðunn, however, was not what one would want from a babysitter. Aslaug was fine, on occasion, and everyone else in their family worked full days. Eirika, both Ragnars, Verena. There was perhaps a Maenlarys that could babysit from time to time, but the fact of the matter was that the girls would have to go to a daycare at some point. Could they go to a daycare without speaking any English at all? Sigrid, perhaps, but Helga was old enough to have to interact with other little children verbally. She would need to know something, and while Alexander and her could probably teach her, he thought it would be easier with books. Children's books, right? Like the ones British kids used to learn to talk. The more natural way.

It didn't change the fact that he was standing in his work clothes before the children's bookshelves and perusing books without knowing exactly what was good for anything. His work clothes usually consisted or dark suits, and while he had his hair braided it did nothing to lessen his slightly imposing figure. He was tall, after al, very much taller than the average male in Britain, even if his husband was even larger. He didn't look like he belonged here, and technically he didn't. He didn't have children, he didn't know what to do with them. But- but, well, he did have children. Step children. He was trying and it was rare of him to try. Kids deserved better than him letting his mind trip him up, though. He had decided that, so here he was. Trying to... find a book?

She had friends who had kids, and friends who didn’t. Some understood, and some didn’t; it was a hard thing for her to look at, to do, but she tried her best to not think on it. She didn’t like those thoughts or the things that it made her feel. The what might have beens had a way of sneaking in and making her feel worse about things than she really needed to. She couldn’t help what had happened to her, and even though she felt envy every time she saw a pregnant woman, or a couple with a baby she did her best to handle her shit because she didn’t know how to do anything else, but she was trying. She didn’t need it. She didn’t need a relationship and the complications that came from people expecting things at a certain point.

She didn’t need the light fading from their eyes when they had to learn the truth about what they could expect from her. Most men seemed to be wanting a family these days, though she supposed that aiming for an older more mature male was kind of causing that. She was tired of dealing with boys and their drama, tired of dealing with the stupid things that they said. So he had put herself into a ‘no strings’ bubble. Having fun only. She had met someone but she didn’t want to read a lot into it, because that was how she got upset, how she got hurt. That was how she got her heart broken and she wasn’t about that life really.

The one time that she broke her own rules was when it came to her friends and there was one in particular that had had a baby recently that she had not gotten a gift for. She felt remiss in her duties as a friend, but at the same time, it had taken her a while to be okay. To think of it and not hate herself. It wasn’t something that she could control, and it wasn’t something that she liked. She had debated on baby clothes, but she had all that already no doubt, so she had decided on getting a library started for her friends’ daughter. She was looking at the books when she noticed someone near her and she jumped, not sure how she had missed the rather tall man. ”Oh, hello.” She colored and looked up at him her face heating.

Outfit

In the end, the fact of the matter was that he was trying to be an acceptable step father. He knew that Alexander was never thinking about getting married, and if he had ever considered it then he would not have thought about someone like Erik. Even though they were compatible in bed, they weren't actually compatible in anything else. Between Erik's insomnia and reluctance to talk, his inability to open up, and his lack of sensitivity, he was far from what Alexander must have wanted. Erik actually pitied his husband, because the man was kind and warm and really wanted a home. A family. Erik wasn't family material, that was clear to absolutely everyone. He couldn't actually help it, he had never managed to open up to anyone or lean on anyone. It would be very hard to change anything about himself, let alone enough to be accommodating in such a thing. Would he try? He already was trying. He was trying to get home for dinner every day, he was trying to communicate better, he did his very best to not treat Alexander as he would treat just anyone. Even not how he would treat some casual lover. Alexander was his husband. Now, he was trying to get the man's daughters something nice. His step daughters. He had never- well, he had, once. It didn't matter anymore, there was no point in considering it.

"Afternoon." He offered the woman beside him a polite nod, because he could do that sometimes and he wasn't in a particularly awful mood just yet. Work had been fine and he hadn't been forced to deal with awful people just yet. Yet. Any stranger was a wild card and while she seemed meek and pleasant enough, he couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't lose his temper. Still, he didn't offer any more conversation and reached out to take one of the more interesting books. He wasn't someone for idle chatter, he wasn't someone to actually bother talking with strangers, and he was busy with getting his step daughters presents. Now, he was far from an expert on what would be good for children, but Ragnar and his wife had been trying for a baby for a very long time and his brother wouldn't stop blathering about all the research he did about childcare. Who knew that would end up being useful? He was loath to say that he should probably pay more attention to what his brother said on a daily basis. No, that was madness. Never mind. He was actually convinced that their close relation to Ragnar's wife was the issue. After all, she was their first cousin. Even worse, she was Alexander's sister.

With an annoyed sound, he put the book back and took out another.