Vylad's gaze is warm when I wake up. I comment on his staring, but he brushes off the topic quickly by wrapping his arm around me to bring me closer to his chest. Like his smile, he's warm and comforting.
My eyes shut once again, humming in satisfaction as we stay like this for minutes on end. There's no baby around to disrupt this moment. And even without clothes on, he radiates enough heat that the chill stands no chance.
There was always a hidden assumption that Vylad and I would end up together. We knew each other before he transferred over to Phoenix Drop High, and the Ro'meave family was one of the first families I met with our move from Meteli.
Zane was as shy as he is now, perhaps a bit more before. Kandi seemed to be incredibly extroverted, and Vylad even then had to be her anchor. Garroth was sheepish, but he took the lead nonetheless after the word "eldest" was drilled into his mind.
While they grew out of these traits slightly growing up, I never really saw them outside of playing. The moment Vylad and Kandi transferred, there was a higher separation of all of us than there was before. Laurance and Garroth stood together, while I formed a trio with the twins. Zane continued to keep to himself, perfectly content with taking the lonesome road.
Kandi has always been more extroverted than I have. She went out to more parties. Was willing to take more risks. She gossiped far more often than I ever had. Because of this, there was a rare moment when I wasn't by Vylad's side.
This caused the assumption we'd be together. And when I got with Garroth, the assumption was threatened. Now, here we are, husband and wife laying in the same bed together after a night of passion.
If I close my eyes, I can see him the way he was when we first got together. Timid of new things in our relationship. Hiding our affection until he grew comfortable with people's stares.
Then, when I open them, everything has changed.
"We haven't gotten to do this in a while," I hum, nuzzling my face deeper into the crook of his neck. His arms tighten around me more, pressing kisses against my cheeks and face. "Not since Paris was born."
"Speaking of Paris," Vylad says, lingering his kiss on the top of my head. "Don't you think she needs a little brother or sister?"
I lift my face up to him, opening my eyes. "I know I said let's wait until she's at least six months to discuss this, but I think that we should wait a little while longer," I tell him. "If I get pregnant now, she'll be a little over a year old. That sounds a bit like a pain. I don't know how your mom managed to do it."
"Mom had three children, all one year apart," he chuckles. "But if you think you're not ready, we're not ready."
He pulls me on top of him, lowering me down to press more kisses against my face. I giggle and squeal with excitement and lean into his touch. When I sit up, he places his hands on my hips and rubs circles on the skin above the bone. "Besides, if we had another child, these moments would become extra rare."
The corner of his lips tug up into a mischievous smirk. He rolls us over until I'm on my back, and he is hovering himself over me. I reach up to tuck his fallen hair back, resting my hand on his shoulder. "That's why we need to bask in these moments while we still have them."
I begin to laugh, simmering it into a giggle when he presses his lips to my neck. I can't help but to tilt the back of my head further into the pillow from the ticklish area. The sound of our doorbell causes me to lift an eyebrow and place my hands on Vylad's chest to make him stop, but he cares little to nothing about the sound.
"I should answer that," I tell him, pushing against him slightly. "It may be your sister with our daughter."
He whines but lets me go, mumbling how he finally understood why our daughter is a cock block along with his sister. I giggle at his words, slipping on a fallen shirt and walking down the stairs.
I fully expect to be met with a cranky baby and crankier aunt, but I'm face to face with the mother of my husband. "Zianna?" My arms wrap around my body, feeling the need to suddenly cover myself up.
"Were you just making me another grandchild?" Zianna asks, making the desire to curl up in a hole and disappear burn stronger. "I can smell the sex."
My lips part, begging for some word to respond to, "I can smell the sex." I don't know how she is so confident on commenting on my sex life with her son when I don't even talk about it with my own sister.
"I'm going to go get your son," I quickly mutter, quickening my pace until I'm up the stairs and in the comfort of my own bedroom. Vylad stares at me from our bedding, confusion written over his face. My eyes linger on his pants on the floor for a second before I pick them up and throw them his way. "Put your pants on, Ro'meave. Your mother's here."
"My mother?"
"Mine's dead, so it has to be yours."
