Disclaimer: i own nothing and no one.
Chapter Two.
Awake or asleep,
I'll love you,
Never question,
never doubt…
Time passes…
He looks down at the sleeping form of his daughter stretched out on the sofa cushion next to him, then up to his wife as she bustles around in the kitchen. His eyes flick back and forth repeatedly as he makes comparisons.
"She looks like you," he calls "I've decided she's all you."
"I am not bald." She calls back with a sly grin, satisfied when she hears him laughing, a deep throaty chuckle that causes her to glance over the counter and watch him, thoroughly absorbed by their sleeping child.
"No," he calls again, his voice soft with the truth he speaks "you have beautiful hair and she will too, soon I think."
"Really?" She puts down the plates she was washing and turns, she makes her way to her family slowly, enjoying the view, every step closer filling her heart a little more.
The baby, her daughter…oh…
It hits her like a sudden wave, a warm, gusting, burst of love from somewhere external to her body that rushes at her full speed and slams straight into her heart, and her fingers slip to her lips to hide the smile, a habit she has never been able to break, the tender rush of tears to her eyes when looking at her little girl.
She laughs at the sleeping child, laying stretched on one cushion of the sofa. Her long legs, her mothers legs apparently, reach across and just skim the knee of her father.
She reaches him, draws level and drops a hand to his shoulder, squeezing hard until he looks at her. He raises his eyes, crinkled at the corner by the smile he gives her before he uncrosses his legs and gently tugs her into his lap.
"Mmmm." She hums against the familiar feel of him as he slides his arms around her waist and jostles her a little. Her eyes scrunch and she bites her lips against the smile that wants to bubble free when his fingers slide beneath the hem of her shirt, up, until his thumb soothes circles on her lower back.
There is no heat behind the gesture, just comfort, tenderness and love.
Familiarity and peace.
Resting her cheek on the top of his head, she feels the need for connection, one hand dropping low to hold the foot of her sleeping daughter as the other lifts to his head.
Her fingers, nails short and trailing, slide through the hair at the nape of his neck, teasing softly until she feels him sigh. It takes a second and then a soft chuckle vibrates him against her and she leans over in confusion.
"What's funny?"
He points at the baby, her lips pursed in sleep, a scowl furrowing her brow.
"We made that," he laughs again, "that grumpy, serious looking little creature."
She laughs at the face her daughter pulls in her deep slumber, but she can't help the movement of her fingers, so natural, as they reach around from the nape of his neck and tweak his ear.
"Do not call my child grumpy," she glares, but it falls away quickly as she laughs "she's dedicated and determined, independent, she's fierce, she's…"
"Asleep." He laughs, watching the indulgent look that crosses his wifes face, so unusual for her. Since the moment they met she made him toe the line and follow the rules, she let him sneak inside her heart and he can get away with things now that he would never have been able to before, but she made him better. Stronger.
"And she does it so well." She smiles, at him and then at their sleeping angel, but her voice rings through with pride, and he watches the way her mouth curls, and he thinks he might have made her better too, softer, more relaxed.
They balance each other out.
His hand drifts from her skin, slipping up the soft cotton of her t-shirt and into her hair, her beautiful hair that he is absolutely convinced his thus-far-bald daughter will inherit. Both hands find her face, skim her jaw as she turns into his touch, her eyes closing as she presses her head against the palm of his right hand briefly before she re-opens her eyes and stares at him.
Her eyes.
He wants the babys eyes to be the exact shade as his wifes, he thinks they are already, now that the new born blue has faded away, he wants her to be a mini clone of the woman he married, but, with a little bit of his lightness mixed through.
He doesn't want someone to have to tease the laughter from her, he wants her free and unburdened in life. He wants her to find magic and be happy, easily.
"I want her to have your eyes." she mumbles before she presses her lips to his, her mouth opening against his bottom lip, warm and wet, as she wraps her arm firmly around his neck, she doesn't release the baby's foot, that and her words make him smile into her kiss.
She pulls back confused again "What?"
It was testament to their relationship, the way it had blossomed from teasing to friendship to love, and the weird connection that flowed between them, and he laughed thinking that even on two hours sleep she seemed to be able to read his mind. Or at least be on the same page.
"I was just thinking how very much I hope she looks like you." He pulled her forward, kissing the edge of the sudden smile that breaks across her face. "But with a better sense of humour."
She glares at him again, pulling free of his kiss by tugging on his hair. "Hey now, I wouldn't be judging my sense of humour." Her fingers giving another light tug "I laugh at you don't I."
She flashes her eyes at him, a blaze that dares him to contradict her but before he has a chance to speak there is a snuffled grunt from the cushion next to them and they turn simultaneously.
The greeny brown eyes of their baby girl stare back at them as she watches and sucks contentedly on her bottom lip.
"See," he points at the baby, his fingers run along the soft pink material, falling to settle over her chest "That's all you, right down to the lip bite."
"Shut up," she huffs quietly, dropping her voice so the baby wont hear. "Hey beautiful." She leans forward, ignoring the groan as she uses him as leverage and scoops her daughter up into her lap, their laps really as she remains planted across her husband.
"I don't mind if she looks like me," she mumbles quietly, settling them both into the cocoon of her husbands arms "as long as she acts like you."
Her eyes drift up dancing over her daughters head before she finds his eyes, scrunched in confusion, denial ready to fall from his lips, she silences him with a smile.
"I want her to accept love like you do, like it's a gift, like it's magical. I want her to be soft, easy in laughter and in life," she kisses the warm skin at the top of her daughters head, smiling as the tickle of her mothers hair makes her close her eyes "my angel," she murmurs "my princess."
"But she will be strong like you," he says forcefully, belief in his words as he watches the set of his daughters jaw, the fight already evident as she opens her eyes and very near glares at her mother "fierce and determined like you said before. She will chase off the knights because she won't need to be coddled. She will battle dragons, our little girl, and she'll win.
