Forever Never Lasts [✔]

Sweater Paws

In my perfect world order, it is cold all the time. Everyone wears sweaters and drinks coffee. People don't speak to each other; They read the newspaper. There is no loud music, and the cats are in charge.          - Michael Showalter

  I could tell he was have a bad day by his demeanor. He kept telling me he was fine, but I knew he wasn't. He wouldn't look into my eyes and kept his eyes low, arms wrapped around himself tightly and fairly quiet.

I wasn't having that today. 

  I bathed him, and babied him through the entire thing. From undressing him, to shaving him, to brushing his teeth for him. I carried him into our bedroom, the bed a bit of a mess from the love making we had a hour or two ago. He seemed to be in a bit of a better mood, clutching onto my tightly with his face nuzzled in close. 

  I set him onto his feet before moving to the dresser and pulling out his favorite sweater, which was my grey fuzzy hand knitted sweater. It kept him warm, but also allowed him to cool down whenever he wanted too. I also grabbed his lace up legging before moving back to him, kneeling down and pulling the leggings up his legs before lacing them up, standing and slipping the sweater over his head.

  The smile I received from it made me happy, just that little smile. I knelt back down and pulled socks over his feet before tying his shoes and getting dressed myself. I had a Boho sense of dressing. Minus all the color. I wore nothing but gray, it was just my color, and matched how plain I really was. Grey shoes, grey pants, grey boxers, grey shirts. More like grey sweaters. Its basically all I owned. Sweaters were my obsession, and I loved them dearly.

  I simply pulled on a grey sweater and a pair of grey jeans, along with grey shoes as well. I pulled my grey jacket over my shoulders before grabbing his (my) BMTH sweatshirt and slipping it over his head.

"Daddy where are we going?" He questioned as he looked up at me with those heavenly eyes. I melted on the spot.

  I picked him up, wrapping a arm around his bottom to hold him stable before carrying him down the stairs, loving the feeling of him nuzzling his face into my neck. 

"We, my dear baby, are going to Chili's and then to the park to get your moody little butt happy," I replied as I snatched my keys from the stand by the door, ignoring the empty oxygen tanks that was collecting dust by the door. That was our past, and it will remain that way.

  The smile that radiated off his face made my knees weak. Everything about him made my knees weak. I set him down before lacing my fingers through his tightly, tugging him to his side before beginning our short walk to Chili's which was a block and a right down.

  The entire time we walked, I told him about much I loved him, which always made him tear up a bit, which I will always wipe away, germaphobe or not. He would play with my red tipped fingers, that were red due to the fact I was always sanitizing and washing them. By the time we got there, I just wanted to turn back and smother him with love on our couch.

  When we walked in, his face radiated happiness, and that in its own made me the happiest man in the world.

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  After a long while out and about, going through the park and recollecting memories before heading back to our home, I stared down at his stomach. I secretly really wanted kids with him, but would I tell him? Probably not. I'm a closed off person and dislike opening up. He'll never know.

  I lay on the couch with him on my chest, dozing off slightly before he had lifted his head up to look at me.

"Evan?"

"Yes?"

"Your going to be a great Father."

I could have balled my eyes out the entire night had I had no ego.