Love… Life was never smooth when it came to love. Argo knew this already. Nastasha was a wonderful woman, and he did love her with all of his heart, but when it came to agreeing on what was best for their little Alexei, all hell broke loose. Argo did not feel that the baby should be sheltered so much; Nastasha felt that he was not sheltered enough. Small things like that would start big fights between them with Nastasha yelling at her husband. Later, they would make up, lying sweaty, but sated under their silky sheets.
One particular fight between the stubborn couple ended badly when Nastasha had picked up Alexei and left, warning him not to follow her. He didn't listen, of course, and refused to lose both his son and his wife—he was quiet, not stupid. It had been tough, but eventually he had convinced Nastasha to come back to him with their son.
The sex that night had been fiery and had left both in a powerful daze. Argo hadn't disliked the feeling, only wished that he could move into a more comfortable position afterward. However, Nastasha, who had already fallen asleep on his chest, needed her sleep. He refused to disturb her, not when she looked so beautiful and happy.
Alexei had woke up early the next morning, dragging both sleepy parents from their room with a single distressed cry. He had been trying to climb into Argo's chair like he normally did when he woke up. However, the difference was that Argo was usually awake by then, holding him. Argo had not been so happy to have started that tradition, then. But, as always, when he was more awake and holding his baby son, he didn't mind so much.
No, love was complicated, but at this point Argo would not—could not go on without both Nastasha and Alexei to rely on him for support. Though neither would say it for one reason or another, both his wife and child enjoyed his company, and he could never turn them away. He would deal with the problems of love as they hurtled toward him, one obstacle at a time. He could make it…