Here, she leads.
The well-built boy towers above the rest of them, his southern drawl and gentlemen ways foreign to her. It'd been unusual enough that he sported his Texas threads during casual days; tucked plaid flannel, complete with light wash jeans and unnecessarily large belt buckle. Because of his size she figures he's stone at first glance, but through introductions his warm character is velvet. She's never met a nicer man. When she put an effort to dress and impress, he'd been the first to notice. When she cried, he'd be the first to embrace her. She wasn't accustomed to males being so kind, especially without requests. He was rarely angered, forever grateful. At first, she decides the interest is simply that, interest. Admiration for his well-being. That changes as they age, and sooner or later she's too impatient for his ambiguous, shy nature to question their possible connection.
Her anxiousness proves worth while, because he's so happy with her suspicions, he doesn't attempt to hide anymore. He cherishes her, puts her first. She is the voice, and he provides a steady echo when needed. Sometimes, she doesn't always want to be in charge, but she believes the stress is good for her.
"The big oaf with an even bigger heart" were her first choice of words during their first weeks together. Quiet and easily embarrassed, Clay had plans of going back to the ranch alone when his chosen duties were completed. He never expected to have Kimiko accompany him, much less as his new wife.
He'd been willing to wait forever. After all, he was still the gentleman she fell for. One night she's doesn't settle for just soft kisses. He's gentle, and the way he whispers those sweet country nothings is enough for her to cry out.
A simple man with simple ways, her mother warned her, may not promise so simple of a relationship.
Clay never was one for decisions. Everything had gone through her first, and while she appreciated his concern, she wanted him to be his own person. Time after time he'd ask for her opinion, and there'd be times where she'd ignore him, hoping he'd learn to take after himself. Clay was easily distraught with her tactics. A Bailey boy, he took after his depressed father, who often drank his sorrows away. He'd come home at some Godforsaken hour, sleep in the shed even after she accepted his apologies. Someone who broke so easily faded quickly. She needed reassurance herself, sometimes. The sparks came and went, and all was silent for a while.
The news of her pregnancy was definitely the wake up call of a lifetime. She depended on him more than ever to be his own man, to which he obliged this time around. On occasion she'd forget about his changed ways and continue to roam freely, but Clay would put his foot down and insist the best for her. She'd been left so breathless by his new demanding trait, she cried tears of joy.
"Riley Kyohei Bailey," The cowboy bellows from downstairs. "If I have to call you out one more time I swear to God I'm gone g't you down 'ere myself, you hear me!"
The raven haired boy would come down eventually, taking his usual seat beside his father.
Kimiko serves his breakfast, kisses the side of his cheek, and whispers in her husband's ear.
"Oh, right," He nods. He clasps his hands around his mouth again for an even louder call. "Same goes for you, Makoto!" There's some light rustling upstairs, and Clay pushes from his seat in anticipation. The man's hunger should never be put on hold. "Makoto Audrey Bailey, you best shin up outta that damned room o' yours and get some breakfast!"
The blond pig tailed child would rush afterwords, a groggy moan escaping her.