September 29th 1987, 3am the witching hour, a mother screams out on a beach,
A fire burning bright not far from her.
Lilies sway close by the scent covering the area as the sea crashes against the shore.
The husband crouches by the mothers side wiping sweat from her brow offering comforting words as he prays she doesn't break his hand.
A stranger that had passed by offering her assistance as a retired wet nurse encourages the woman to push.
"You're doing so well, keep going you're almost there I can see the head."
The woman screams out again and turns to glare at her husband.
"This is absolutely your fault I said let's just stay home but noooooooo you had to go and be all romantic and cheesy and now HERE I AM NO PAIN RELIEF WHILE PUSHING A SAINT BERNARD THROUGH A CAT DOOR...ARE YOU LAUGHING RIGHT NOW VINCENT."
The man's laughter dies down as he looks at his wife his brown eyes sparkling with mirth. He knew his wife was a beautiful woman but in the light of the fire as she glares at him she is...dazzling.
Her red hair even though wet with sea water and sweat shimmered as if her hair had stars scattered throughout.
"Don't you dare look at me like that, I'm mad at you."
She takes him in as she observes him staring at her, adoring her. The nerve after laughing while SHE is birthing their child. Damn his stupid high jaw line, curse his beautiful brown eyes that she would willingly drown in, and to hell with his soft curly locks that lightly bounce when he laughs. Why did he have to be so handsome when all she wanted to do is be mad at him. Why did he have to look at her like that when she knows she looks absolutely horrible right now covered in sweat, sand and agony.
"Why do you look at me as if I'm a goddess?"
He strokes her cheek with his free hand and kisses her forehead before staring into her eyes.
"Because my love, you are. You create life, you nourish, you love, you can bring forth such wrath even I quake.
You may not be a Goddess of mythos but to me my dear, you are a Goddess I would go to the ends of the earth for."
A tear, a scream, another push...then the sounds of a new born baby wailing.
On this day Lily Valentino was born to fire and lilies.
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