"I am a fat ball of bebe and it's all your fault. You just couldn't keep it dans votre pantalon, could you?" Marianne groaned, glaring at her husband. Matthew flushed brightly, guiltily rubbing the back of his neck.
"You're not fat, Fran, you're pregnant," He offered lightly. Her glare became ferocious, and she looked quite ready to attack him.
"Oh, faire taire. Don't pull that card." She snarled, rubbing the bottom of her extended belly. Matthew sighed, flopping down on the couch next to her. He looped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her into a half hug. She sighed, laying her head on his shoulder, lacing their fingers together. Matthew smiled, leaning over to place a kiss on her temple.
"Je t'aime, Marianne." The French woman hummed, cuddling her husband closer.
"Je t'aime, Mathieu. Even if you made me fat." Matthew chuckled.
"Again, not fat." She rolled her eyes, but stayed quiet nonetheless.
"You're a fool, Mathieu."
"Ah, oui, but I am your fool. And that is the best kind there is, non?" Matthew smirked, kissing her hair. Marianne laughed heartily, squeezing his fingers.
"Ah, oui. Tu es à moi. Et Je t'aime."
"Et tu vous~"
Happy Holidays! I quick little gift from me to you! I love you guys!