Forever and ever 2. The adventure starts now.

Part 1 u stupid wattpad! When I catch you wattpad- wattpad, when I catch you!

I DELETED THE FIRST WATTPAD CHAPTER AND APPARENTLY YOU CANNOT GET IT BACK THIS STUPID ASS SHIT FUCK NOOOO

WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE?! I'M NOT GOING TO WRTIE 3K WORDS OF A PART IVE ALREADY WRITTEN ONCE SO HERE IS WHAT HAPPENED WHAT I REMEMBER.
~

I sincerely apologise, I just found a screen recording of the part I took two years ago, and will now type it off word by word...

Tom's pov~

"Beautiful good morning my husband." Fuck. I growled in reluctant agreement, feeling Y/N's hand glide down my back in a soothing gesture. I was caught in that hazy limbo between sleep and wakefulness, where reality and dreams blended into one confusing swirl.

"You need to get up, honey. We have a plane to catch," she whispered, breaking through my grogginess. 'Honey?' I thought to myself. Y/N knew better than to call me that. It sounded like a nickname for an old married couple, not us.

"Don't call me that," I muttered, squinting at the light filtering through the crack in my eyelids. The brightness was an unwelcome intruder. I turned my head away, fully aware of Y/N's eyes boring into me with silent judgment.

But who was I kidding? Y/N always knew how to handle me, even when I was a grumpy mess.

She began planting soft, tender kisses from my shoulder blade up to my neck, leaving a warm, wet trail of affection. I couldn't help but smile; her touch always worked miracles on me. My heart leapt with joy, despite my initial grumbling.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her lips still close to my skin. "But please, get up. I don't want to miss our honeymoon just because you couldn't get enough beauty sleep."

This woman! I grinned as she traced endless patterns on my back. "Can you remind me again why you booked us a flight so early, when you know I can afford a private jet?" I teased. Seriously, what else was my pilot, Bruce, for if not to whisk us away to our destinations in comfort once every few months?

Y/N rolled her eyes behind me. She knew I had a point but probably found me insufferable for it. "You know I don't believe in private jets, Mr. Rich. Besides, it makes us look stuck-up, like those people who think they're better than everyone else." She sighed, testing my patience. "And it's unnecessary pollution. Don't you care about the world?"

"Darling," I replied, still half-asleep, "you are my world. That's why I want to make sure we get to Paris safely." I could tell my words had softened her stance, at least momentarily. "And about your other point—we are better than everyone else," I added with a smirk.

I rubbed my eyes and rolled onto my back. When I finally looked up, her flushed cheeks had deepened to a shade of red that mirrored her growing frustration. A frown creased her eyebrows.

"No, we're not!" she insisted.

"Yes, we are." I closed my eyes again, barely containing my amusement. Teasing Y/N was as entertaining as playing keep-away with a puppy. Both got annoyed, but only one was likely to snap. In this case, it wasn't the puppy.

"No, we're not."

"Yes, we are," I countered, knowing I could keep this up indefinitely.
"Not!"
"Are."
"Not!"
"Are!"

"Tom!" Her hand fell on my chest in a show of frustrated defeat. I felt her pulse through her palm, my grin widening. Just as she thought she had the upper hand, I whispered a final "We are," prompting a groan of exasperation from her as she pushed herself off the bed, ready to leave without me if necessary.

Amused, but not wanting to push her too far, I grabbed her hips and pulled her onto my lap. She squealed at the sudden movement, her shock quickly turning into laughter.

"I'm just teasing," I said, my thumb drawing gentle circles on her bare thigh. "Okay?" For a moment, she seemed ready to believe me. Her face softened, and I could see the struggle between irritation and affection in her eyes. "We're not better than all the other..." I gulped as I searched for the right words. "...lost souls out there." Which I still hadn't found. Unfortunately I wasn't married to some dumb blondie but Y/N, who was outcasting everyone with her knowledge and smartness.

She caught on immediately. "Fine, maybe you're right. But guess which 'lost souls' are having sex tonight, and which aren't!" With that, she slipped from my grasp and sauntered off toward the bathroom, leaving me grinning like a fool.

"I hope it's us?" I called after her, the last shred of hope dissolving as she mimed a bell with her finger and closed the door behind her.

Ah well, her words were tonight, not now.

Y/N's POV:

We arrived at the airport just in time, only for Tom to be pulled aside for a random bag check and drug test. Both were utterly pointless, except to fray his already thin patience. Our flight was now delayed by thirty minutes, and Tom was in the worst mood possible. Not that I was much better, having spent the last twenty minutes snapping at everyone in sight. But in my defence, we were running late initially...

Tom sat beside me, arms crossed and legs stretched out, radiating frustration. He hated flying with other people, detesting the prying eyes and cameras. Hence, he was bundled up in a hoodie and cap, practically invisible to the world.

"This is so unnecessary," he muttered, glaring around.

"Oh, come on. At least we have time to make a video of the planes taking off for Parker," I tried to lighten the mood by mentioning our son, though it didn't seem to help much.

Since I was already thinking about Nathan and Nikki, I decided to record a video for them too.

"Good morning, you two!" I said cheerfully into the camera, capturing the sunrise glowing in the horizon. "We just got to the airport, but our flight's been delayed." I shrugged, trying to convey that it wasn't a big deal, even though Tom beside me was practically steaming. He placed his hand on my thigh, the sudden pressure making my breath catch and causing the phone to wobble in my grasp, easy to confuse with an earthquake. I tried to shake him off, focusing back on the camera, but Tom's interruption was inevitable.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked, his voice low and curious.

"Your mom. Do you want to say anything?" I offered, holding the phone towards him. Tom considered it seriously, much to my surprise. Then, he snatched the phone from my grasp, turning the camera on himself.

"Make sure Parker doesn't get too many sweets. He gets hyper and starts bouncing around on things that aren't trampolines," he warned, referencing our living room table, which had recently been replaced. "Also, keep him off the iPad as much as possible, and if he won't sleep, read him 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar' and stay with him until he does. Otherwise, he'll find other ways to keep himself occupied." We spoke from experience. There had been many sleepless nights and daytime naps, and we had even consulted a doctor, only to find out that many kids were like Parker.

With a final wave, he ended the recording and handed the phone back to me.

"Seriously?" I frowned at him. I had wanted to send a sweet video to his mother, and Tom had turned it into a list of commands.

"What?" he shrugged. "I forgot to mention that to her yesterday." And, in fairness, it was good advice, even if a simple hello might have been nicer. I couldn't help but smile at his earnestness, his raised eyebrows making him look so endearingly confused.

"Manners really aren't your strong suit, are they?" I teased.

"Only for the right people." He grinned and cupped my chin, pressing a kiss to my lips. A kiss that had no business being so intense in an airport, unless it was a goodbye. When he pulled away, his lips were flushed pink, and his hand lingered on my cheek. "I'm sorry for being difficult. I just can't wait to have you all to myself in Paris."