Fatherhood for Dummies

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Over the course of the next few days, Mia had what felt like the worst case of postpartum blues, feeling like she had nothing under control. The trauma from Halloween, the headache of worrying about legal consequences when and if the law found out about Michael, the stress of feeling like she didn't do enough research on what to expect after having a baby, stressing about how she would continue taking care of Harlow and Lilo, even though Big John had been taking over the horse's feeding routine with Michael's help.

She relaxed into the tub, her oxygen tank close by just in case she needed it when she began to feel a familiar light-headedness. Running her fingers through her now-clean and damp hair, she settled against the tub, taking a deep breath as she mentally began to process it all, one headache at a time. Her mind had been in sprints, so much so that she didn't even hear the bathroom door open, Michael looking over at her as her predicted twenty-minute bath turned into a half-hour...then an hour. Needless to say, Michael got worried. Her head was turned away from him, her eyes closed. The claw-foot tub cradled her aching body comfortably as she was on the verge of falling asleep, suddenly feeling a presence beside her.

Michael had pulled up the bathroom stool close to the tub, slowly running the back of his fingers along her cheek, hoping not to startle her with a sudden appearance. Not this time, anyway. She slowly turned her head to look at him, a soft grin on her lips before she tilted her head upwards, pressing a kiss to the back of his fingers. "How are you feeling?" She asked him.

He shrugged and nodded slightly, constantly nervous about the new discovery of his own voice after it had not been used for forty years. To his surprise, she did not ask him to verbally react to her questions, regardless of how happy she was that he finally built up the courage to talk to her, but she knew better than that. She understood him and his preferences. If he wants to talk, then he will. How good is it of me to constantly beg him?

"I don't want you to see me like this," She frowned. "I'm all battered up and ugl-"

The usual babble and get the finger was now presented, the familiar feeling of his index finger against her lips as she was speaking nonsense - something Michael always did when she would talk down on herself, especially like this. Her brown eyes looked up at him, his finger and thumb gently grasping her chin, tilting her head up to him before he placed a kiss onto her lips. "You're speaking nonsense." He mumbled against her lips, feeling hers tug into a smile as he knew she was happy when she heard his voice. It was all new to her, and him, that it would take some getting used to.

She certainly wasn't complaining.

"Where's the baby?"

"Sleeping." He replied, his voice deep.

She huffed quietly, relaxing into his touch. "Thank you."

He didn't reply, just watched. She was so beautiful to him, even more so that she brought his beautiful baby girl into the world, something he surely didn't deserve.

A frown plastered on his face as he watched her eyelids become heavy. She was exhausted. The water was still steaming and felt scorching from his touch, but he knew women were known for taking scalding-hot showers. He retracted his arm from her, standing up quietly to check on the baby, who was sleeping in the bassinet in their bedroom, ensuring that she was sound asleep, pacifier between her lips as she was swaddled in warmth before returning to the bathroom, the want of tending to Mia heavy on his mind.

Slowly, he removed his clothing after setting two towels aside for them, feeling her adjust against him as he slid into the tub behind her, letting her rest against his massive chest. He felt her sigh in relief as she had been touch-starved over the last few days. Her head rested at the base of his neck, Michael peppering slow kisses on her hot skin, running his hands down her arms, entwining his fingers with hers as he enjoyed her against him just as much as she enjoyed him. "You're so beautiful." He murmured against her ear, feeling the goosebumps erect on her arms.

She chuckled, "I definitely don't feel like it."

"Because you're tired. You talk nonsense when you're tired." He assured her, placing another kiss to her neck, continuing to play with her hands with his fingers, looking at them as if they were made of glass.

She blushed, still obsessed with the sound of his voice and how comforting it was to her. She would never get tired of it. "We need to think about names, Michael, so I can get everything back to the hospital."

"What were you thinking?" He hummed, continuing to press kisses to her, now wrapping his arms around her.

"I was thinking something soft and sweet," She grinned. "Like Ella?"

"Love it."

"Really?" She smiled, looking up at him, closing her eyes as she felt him press his lips to her temple. "What about a middle name?"

"What were your ideas?"

"Well, I was thinking either Grace, Danielle, Faith-"

"I like Grace."

"Surprising, coming from you." She giggled.

"I'm just full of surprises."

"Oh, I know. I've been dealing with you for over a year, now I got a spawn of you!" She laughed.

"Not a bad thing..." He trailed off, running his hands back down her arms, gathering the clouds of suds in his hands before attempting to run his hands back up her torso, Mia stopping his hands before reaching her breasts.

"Off-limits, mister." She giggled.

"Who says?" He scoffed.

"Ella! They don't belong to you for a while." She teased.

"...How long is a while?"

"Six months."

"She'll have to share." He joked, smiling as he heard her laugh.

"It's not how it works, Michael."

"In my head, it does."

"I'd hate to see what goes on in your head."

"I'd hate for you to see it too."

"So... Ella Grace it is?" She asked, trailing off.

"Ella Grace it is."

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