Beautiful
Michelle stirred in bed at the feeling of movement on the other end of it. Barely coherent, she rubbed her eye and yawned, taking in the sight of a still Tony sleeping next to her.
Before she could further contemplate the cause of her arousing, a small voice resonated through the dark. "Mommy?" She looked toward the sound and spotted a miniature silhouette sitting at the foot of the bed. "Mommy?" the voice whispered again.
"Anthony?" She rubbed her eyes again and propped herself up just a little. Her voice came out raspy and just above a whisper. "What is it, baby?"
"Can I sleep with you?" She couldn't see it through the dark, but she knew he was donning those big, brown puppy dog eyes of his. The four-year-old had only slept in their bed a handful of times; it was like a treat for him to sleep with Mommy and Daddy. When he came in the middle of the night she could hardly turn the little guy down.
She created some space between her and her husband and beckoned the little boy over. "Yeah, come on."
In his slightly oversized Chicago Cubs t-shirt - the one which matched his dad's and he consistently begged to wear to bed - and blue pajama pants, he crawled into the space and got under the covers, brushing Michelle's face with his soft curls as he lied down. He cuddled close to her, careful not to wake up Tony, and she kissed his head. "Love you, Mama."
"Love you, too, sweetheart," she breathed back, closing her eyes and tousling his hair as they drifted into sleep. The kid's hair felt like thick silk in her fingers. She had been worried about how it would turn out. Between her thick, wild curls, and Tony's coarse, tight ones, it could've been crazy. But it was perfect. He was beautiful.
The thought faded into the thousand reminders of her and Tony's love that was encapsulated in the little body lying between them. And before she could form another thought, she fell asleep with their baby boy in her arms.
Tony woke up to the sharp sound of his alarm clock. He shut if off quickly and squeezed his eyes shut tight before prying them open. When his vision was clear he saw his son sprawled out between him and Michelle. He was lying on his back with one arm bent and resting underneath his head and the other stretched straight out to the side. His brown curls were messy across the corner of Michelle's pillow, and his t-shirt was just barely bunched up, revealing his tiny belly button.
Tony took in the sight. His son couldn't have looked more like his mom in that moment with his long, dark eyelashes lining his softly closed eyes, while his lower lip pouted subconsciously. The way he laid spread out on the bed, breathed long and deep, everything, was her. Michelle would probably suggest he looked like a miniature version of him. She always did. And Tony supposed that was true sometimes. But right now, save the Cubs shirt and tan skin, he was Michelle.
Michelle sat up slowly, and Tony cleared his throat. "I thought I felt something kick me last night."
"Mmmm." She yawned and smiled tiredly. "Kid's a crazy sleeper. He didn't get that from you."
"Nah, he definitely got that from you, babe." Tony glanced again at his son who began to wake up as Michelle chuckled and climbed out of bed. He rustled around in his spot before scrunching his forehead and rubbing his eyes. When he opened them up, he looked over to where Michelle had just been lying and quickly turned to Tony once he realized she was no longer there.
"Morning, little man," Tony said, placing his hand on Anthony's stomach and shaking him gingerly.
Anthony smiled through a yawn and sat up with Tony. "Morning," he greeted back as Tony kissed his head.
"Why did you come to our bed last night, buddy?" Tony asked, stretching his arm around his son's shoulders and squeezing him closer.
"I missed Mommy," he answered simply, rubbing the rest of the sleep from his eyes.
"You missed Mommy?" Tony asked rhetorically.
"Yeah." Anthony pushed himself away from Tony's side and looked up at him. "Where is she?"
"Right here." Michelle appeared beside the bed, pulling her hair back in a loose bun.
"Mommy!" He sprung up and wrapped his arms around Michelle's neck. She hugged him back and kissed his cheek. "Ahh, hi, baby. Did you sleep good?"
"Mmhmm."
"I'm gonna go get ready, 'kay?" Anthony nodded and she leaned down to kiss Tony's lips briefly. A grin graced her face as she met his eyes and he smiled back as she turned around and left the room.
Anthony plopped down to his knees, glaring at Tony thoughtfully, and when Michelle was gone, he spoke up. "Daddy, do you think Mommy's pretty?"
Tony smiled and looked into the eyes that matched his wife's. "Yes, I do. I think she's beautiful."
"Me too," he agreed, playing with the hair on Tony's arm absentmindedly. "She's the prettiest in the whole world. I love her."
Tony hummed in delight at the statement and got out of bed, lifting the kid with him. "I know you do, sweetheart. I love her, too."
"A lot? A lot and a lot and a lot?"
Tony chuckled and carried the babbling four-year-old out of the room. "I love Mommy soooo much... And you, too, mister!" He tickled him and nuzzled the side of his head, reveling in the wonderful sound of his son's laughter.
"Now; should we have breakfast first, or fix this hair of yours?" He ruffled the little boy's bed head playfully. Saying Michelle was beautiful was an understatement; saying he loved her "so much" was an even bigger understatement. But the child in his arms was a better model of those truths than any words could ever be.