A tired looking young woman strolls down the sidewalk hand-in-hand with an equally haggard man. When I say young woman, I mean young woman. Not teenager, older than that.
She's not skinny, but looks like she normally would be. She carries extra weight in her thighs and her stomach, and holds a baby in a chic peach sling. Her hair is gathered in a loose bun, and her t-shirt is loose but flattering.
The man is tall and handsome; hard brooding eyebrows and a wide mouth that either looks ridiculously happy or exceedingly somber. At the moment it leans toward the latter, and his eyes are heavy and weary with bags and lines.
But then he looks at the woman, and raises her hand to his lips for a brief, brushing kiss. She glances up and his lips move fractionally, but that's enough. The smile lights up his face, and hers mirrors it.
They pause at the flower display, and he slips the baby out of the stretchy sling and into his arms and against his chest. The hold is extremely natural, and it screams adoration; from the way he drops a kiss on the baby's temple to the way he sways gently and watches the mother peruse roses.
The baby rests chest to chest with him, cheek against his father's collarbone trustfully. He (the baby, assuming it's a boy because his jumper is blue) clutches his muscular bicep and the man cradles his head in his hand, big enough to encompass it fully. ((Wow too many pronouns i know))
The mother returns holding a bouquet of bright, beautiful roses, and looks adoringly on at the baby and the father.
Do you want the sling? She asks, coming up beside him. He shrugs.
No, this is good. The baby closes his dark eyes and they start walking again.
***
Semi uneventful but idec. Cute moment next chapter though eek :) can't wait!!
