Five years since their eyes first met. Four years since they first spoke. Two years since they got married. One month since something else changed.
On a lazy Friday evening, sat a man with grey hair and a cowboy hat on a couch in a small farmhouse in a even smaller living room reading his newspaper. He hadn't gotten the time to that morning, because he'd promised his wife to feed the animals and help water the crops because she had been tired lately. Vaughn had barely read the front page when his beloved brunette plopped down on the spot next to him. She pecked his cheek and nestled against him. The Harvest Goddess knew how much he loved her and somehow made her understand too.
"Can I lie on your lap?" Chelsea inquired. Vaughn resisted the habit of raising an eyebrow and gave her a short nod as he laid the newspaper on the low table placed in front of the couch. He leaned back while Chelsea made herself comfortable on his lap.
"You haven't worked too hard today, right?" Vaughn questioned.
"Of course not. Your lap just makes a good pillow."
"Ah." Sometimes Chelsea had these moods in which she was very affectionate (in her own way) and would crawl close to him when they lay in bed late at night. And sometimes Chelsea had moods in which she babbled utter nonsense.
"Vaughnie?" Vaughn right eye slightly twitched.
"Yes?"
"I still think you're hot."
"Hot?" She nodded. He checked his forehead. He didn't have any fever.
"Yes, hot. Like, hot-hot." 'Hot' barely made sense, leave alone 'hot-hot'. Even cold made more sense right now.
"Usually I am told to be quite the opposite." A light feeling of victory rose to his head as he watched her purse her lips and think hard.
"I mean the other kind of hot."
"That still doesn't make sense," Vaughn commented. Abruptly the collar of his shirt was grabbed by her small hands as he was pulled in for a rough kiss. Soon he was kissing back in the same manner. After several minutes, when the grip on his shirt was released, he felt allowed to pull away. His face flushed red and slightly out of breath, he looked at the woman lying on his lap who was catching up her breath, with a satisfied grin on her face.
"I meant to say you're sexy," she panted. Ah, sexy. That, he understood. He grinned back.
"Hold onto me." As she threw her arms around his neck, he picked her up, marriage style and swayed her around. He beamed while his wife let out cries of laughter.
"Put me down! I'm getting dizzy!" she laughed.
"What did you say?" he grinned, getting slightly dizzy himself as well.
"Mommy's getting dizzy!" Vaughn stopped dead in his tracks.
"Wait- what?" His eyes slowly grew to the size of saucers, while the beloved brunette couldn't stop giggling.
"I'm pregnant, silly!" Vaughn remembered the mood in which Chelsea would eat lots of chocolate and be grumpy all day. And remembered that she'd missed that time of month.
Oh, dear.