They're still new at this, the two of them becoming more than just two people that found each other and fell in love like some kind of miracle considering the hard knocks life has dealt them already.


Merry and Bright *2*


...

He's there soon as she crosses the threshold. Big hands framing her face gently, lean body colliding with hers, and she drops the keys and the shopping bags in her hands to the floor, gripping fistfuls of his shirt as he kisses her sweet and slow like she's been gone with the girls weeks instead of hours.

.

"Hey," he rumbles when their lips finally separate.

.

Eyes still closed, she nuzzles his palm, relaxes her hands until they rest over the steady beat of his heart. "Hey yourself." Her first real glimpse of him, though, her mouth twitches with suppressed laughter. "You're covered in flour. Daryl, what on earth…"

.

He stops her with a thumb to her lips and a shake of his head, a sheepish expression. "'Phia and me, well. You gotta promise you won't be mad."

.

Those words are like some sort of magic switch, kicking her maternal anxiety into high gear and all sorts of nightmare scenarios start to fill her head, thanks in no small part to her overactive, wildly creative imagination. The only thing that stops her from shrugging from his embrace and searching out her little girl for herself is the comforting knowledge that there are no fire trucks or ambulances parked outside, red beams flashing among the neighborhood Christmas lights. That and not wanting to make it seem like she doesn't trust him because God. It's the farthest thing from the truth. They're still new at this, the two of them becoming more than just two people that found each other and fell in love like some kind of miracle considering the hard knocks life has dealt them already. The two of them becoming three with Sophia—a family. No. She doesn't want to do that. Besides, he's still talking. Babbling, really. As much as a man of relatively sparse words like him can do such a thing. Thing about this beautiful man she still can't believe she's married to, though? He saves up his words, and when he uses them, they actually mean something.

.

"Gotta promise 'cause all she wanted was to surprise you. Ain't her fault."

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Her frown melting away with each earnest word spoken in defense of her daughter, she quietly asks, "What isn't her fault?"

.

By way of explanation, Daryl ducks his head. His stubbled cheeks pinken and his lashes flutter against his cheeks as his mouth twists with embarrassment. "Ain't her fault I got sucked into the black hole vortex of that website."

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His statement isn't all that specific, but she has her suspicions. An inkling that fills her with amusement because the mental image is priceless and she knows her brother-in-law would have a field day with it. Not that she has any plans of telling him, but still. "What website?" she presses. "Daryl?"

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"One with all them pictures and things."

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She covers her laugh with a cough, badly, and he lifts narrowed eyes to her face. "You went on Pinterest?"

.

"Kid wanted to make snowman cookies. Looked easy enough."

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"Looks can be deceiving," she tells him with a little grin.

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"Pfft," he sputters. "Stop."

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Blue eyes twinkling and bright, she shrugs. "It's true." Snaking her arms around his neck, she wrinkles her nose. "How bad are they?"

.

"Murderous lookin' suckers." His mouth quirks in a tiny smirk. "Be watchin' my back if I was you."

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His quiet huff of laughter is all it takes for her to lose all composure and she tucks her face in the warm crook of his neck, her own shoulders quaking with it. A little while later, she murmurs his name. "Daryl?"

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He strokes a hand down her back, takes his time answering. "Yeah?"

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"Why would I be mad?" He doesn't get a chance to answer her before Sophia's sweet, excited voice interjects.

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"Mama! You're home!"

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"Yeah, Baby. I…" One look at her baby girl's messy freckled face and tangled cloud of hair tells her all she needs to know. "Daryl?"

.

"Know it sounds obvious. But melted marshmallows…"

.

"Stick to everything?"

.

"Everything."

.

...


So. I actually didn't set out to make this second part a continuation of the first, but the funny thing is, it could totally read as a continuation. Read it as you wish.

F.Y.I.: Future ficlets in this series may or may not be related.

Feedback is love.

Thanks so much for reading!