|Sparks Fly| A Hawk/Sam Fanfiction

Epilogue

|6 years later|

*Eli's P.O.V*

"Noah, you have to clean your room, buddy." I said to him as I watched him from the doorway, where my little boy is playing with his toys.

"But I don't want to, daddy." He whined.

"I'm sorry, buddy, but you have to." I said. "Your grandma and grandpa are coming over today for dinner, including your uncle."

"Fine, I will." He grunted before he started to put away his toys in his toy chest.

I smiled before walking away and heading towards the living room and kitchen area of our house.

Yes, you aren't seeing things. I have a son who is three years old who's named Noah. He has light brown hair but he has blue eyes. When you look into them, Noah's eyes are like ice but it's so pretty. His eyes are one of my favorite features of his.

Sam and I had moved into another house once we found out that she was pregnant with Noah. And you're probably wondering why?

It's because we were planning the future in case we have a second child. And it's a good thing we did just that because Sam is currently pregnant. She's 4 months pregnant, almost 5, and we found out that we're going to be having a girl.

We're going to be naming her Freya Moskowitz.

When I was in the kitchen, I see Sam, my wife, checking dinner and seeing if it's almost ready.

"How is it looking?" I asked, hugging her from behind.

"The chicken is almost done." She said, turning to me. "And I can tell that our little girl is wanting it."

"It's a good meal that we're having." I said, giving her a soft kiss.

"The potatoes are done and so is the vegetables. I just need to make a salad."

"I'll make it, love."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to." I said.

And after I said my words, another voice entered. It was Noah.

"Mom, dad, I need help with my clothes." He said, his eyes so soft as he looked at us.

"I'll help you, sweet boy." Sam said.

I chuckled. "And I'll get started on the salad."

"You do that, mister."

Sam then walked over to Noah, getting ready to help him with his clothes. Then it was up to me for putting together the salad. So I did just that.

And as I stood there, mixing the salad for tonight's family dinner, I couldn't help but steal glances at Sam and Noah.

There she was, helping our little guy into his shirt, her patience as boundless as the sky. Noah, with his tiny fingers fumbling with the buttons, was trying so hard to be big like us.

I had to chuckle; he's got her spirit, no doubt.

The clink of the salad tongs against the bowl was like a metronome to the quiet symphony of our home.

This dinner, it's more than just a meal, it's a testament to the life we've built, the love that fills these walls.

And as I added a dash of dressing to the salad, I felt a sense of completeness, knowing we were all here together, about to share more than just food.

I continued to hear giggling from my son before the doorbell went off.

"I'll get the door." Noah happily ran, not letting Sam or I to take care of it.