Drabble:165

If someone had told Rose that 7 years after meeting Christian, she'd find him cooing at a baby and that the baby would not be crying from fireboy's creepy smile, Rose would have scoffed and pronounced said someone to be high. Or drunk. Or drunk and high.

But here she was, witnessing that exact scene, after seven years of bickering and having-each-other's-backs with the aforementioned fire-wielding Moroi.

Christian, dressed in a shirt (and not a T shirt with a sarcastic message) for a change, was making funny animal noises at a six-month old diaper-clad, saliva-drooling baby, who was giggling like it was the best thing he had ever seen.

Now, what-you might ask-was Rose exactly doing here, and who was said baby?

Well, Rose was here-here, as in Lissa's private apartment-to check up on Lissa who had been feeling a little under the weather, and strolling into the den, she had come across Christian entertaining his infant son by making up a story with plushy animal toys. Normally, Rose would have made a sarcastic comment about Christian, like whether he was practicing to audition for America's Got Talent, and Christian would undoubtedly have traded back an insult, and they'd get into a verbal duel, trying to have the last word, which would last approximately until the baby, tired of their semi-daily routine, would either fall asleep or start to fuss.

But today, something stopped Rose from opening her mouth. More specifically, the adoration shining out of Christian's eyes.
She knew that his abrasive front was just that-a façade-to not be hurt by people, and that underneath, Christian had a genuinely good heart. She knew how capable of love he was, accepting her and Dimitri and their friends as family, and being fiercely protective of them. And she knew how in love he was with Lissa; he seemed to worship the very ground she walked on. So, she knew that he had a soft side…

…but today, the look he was wearing in his eyes-a mixture of love, tenderness and genuine happiness-was something she had almost never seen him wear. It was an open, vulnerable side of him he rarely displayed.

Rose leaned against the doorway of the room, and studied him, without letting her presence be known. She liked seeing Chris happy. He had had a tough time adjusting to the life he'd been dealt, so it was nice that he now got to have all the happiness he truly deserved. He was married to the girl he loved, had a beautiful baby with her, and was proactively working to promote offensive-Moroi magic curriculum in academies, which was something he was passionate about. His parents' turnings, and Tasha's betrayal, were matters he had made peace with.

The soft crinkling of his eyes now, and the smile brought to his face by the gurgling his son was aiming at him, was heartbreakingly beautiful, for all the right reasons.

While Rose watched, the baby became tired of his father's shenanigans and began to yawn. Christian picked him up, ever so gently, and settled him to his shoulder, banding an arm around the baby protectively. Without pausing, he used his magic to dim the light out of the fireplace, while starting to rub the baby's back gently. He walked around and hummed a nursery rhyme, lulling his baby boy to sleep.

When Christian went to his bedroom to place baby Alexander in his crib, he found Rose sitting beside a sleeping Lissa, reading a magazine. She smiled at him and her godson, before going back to her magazine, and Christian set about settling his son in his cot.

Rose never mentioned having witnessed the private moment he had with his son, and Christian never let her know that he knew she had been watching him, her presence betrayed by her reflection in a mirror across from him.

Firstly, I'd like to thank you guys for all your love for the last drabble (and this entire series, by association). It really is an honour writing for you guys. Also, thank you Edileen for all your lovely reviews; 'undercover Mead' might be the nicest compliment I've received this-half-of-the-year.
Secondly, I apparently have a still-figuring-out-how-to-use-it/what-sorcery-is-this twitter-account, and I go by Aurinator3000S (because really, who doesn't want to sound like a calculator/weapon-of-mass-destruction?), and I'd love to follow you people, so if listening to my weird rambling sounds like your cup of tea, add me up, maybe?
Thirdly, and I swear, I'll end here…review, please!
Cheers!