Forty Eight

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Knowing Adrian crochets and seeing the finished product of his clearly well-practiced effort are two different things... Physically seeing him wearing something he's made just for himself, and out of pink yarn no less, makes him seem softer somehow... Even more gentle than I had imagined he could possibly be.

Just like watching him take in what my prince will hopefully consider his castle for the first time with rays of soft afternoon sun lighting him up like a true ethereal being a new side of him is exposed... Except this time I'm the one left in wonder.

"I know its a little weird... But it really does help my anxiety..." My love tucks his sweet face into his shoulder as his fingers pick at the edge of one of his sleeves as he avoids my gaze.

"I don't think it's weird." I don't think it's weird. I think its adorable, and sweet... And good to keep in mind if maybe it can help ease his lows, "I think you should make me one to match. Same color and everything."

....
Adrian
...

I can't help the shock that works its way onto my face at his bold statement. He wants a sweater... A pink one like the one that I'm wearing.

My mate... The biker... Wants me... To make him... A pink sweater... It's not even that great of a sweater. It was one of the first ones I had tried to make and I kept it out of sentimental reasons... And I really like the well-worn softness of the yarn and how pretty the color is. I had begged Grammy for weeks to let me have some of the baby pink skeins of what was meant to be blanket yarn. The color had been discontinued sometime before I was even born, but knowing that gifting me a little of it would free up some room for new yarn and an extra few books Grammy had handed them over with only a frown asking me not to wear whatever I made to school to avoid being teased.

It had taken me weeks to complete it, having to unravel it more than once to start over, and there is more than one mistake hidden in the stitches... And he wants one.

....
Silas
...

"Daddy... I can't... I don't... The color got discontinued a long time ago..." My sweet boy's wobbly bottom lip is back in action, tears starting to pool in the corners of my eyes... I feel his slightly uplifted mood starting to dip again, his thoughts swirling with worry that the news will upset me.

"We can pick a different color, and then we can match." The thought of matching outfits is just a tad cringe-worthy but well worth the smile it brings to my beautiful boy's lips... The curl of excitement rooting deep in the depths of his belly with hopefully something else too.

"You trust me to pick a color for you to wear?" Adrian's voice is timid as he shuffles himself off the bed to pick up his backpack. He turns himself away from me in an attempt to hide his flush... The flush only made to seem brighter by the soft colors of the clothes gracing his beautiful body. He's so stunning in the early morning sun streaming in from the windows as he dumps the contents of his bag onto the bed, turning over each item as I slide flush behind him, my arms slipping around his waist.

...
Adrian
...

"Of course I trust you, Sweetheart", Silas sighs into my neck as he wraps me in a standing cuddle. I had planned to pick through my things to give me something to do other than feel self-conscious and in desperate need of the soothing hobby to help balance me out a little bit more.

My sweet mate completely prevents the attempted process of finding a safe place for my medicine to be kept as he slips his hands under said mentioned sweater to run his palms up and down my body... Not that I mind. I feel so dependant on his affection at the moment... The warmth of his hands rubbing all over my tummy is so addictive and calming... Even when he slides them into the lip of my jammies to hold my lower belly with a fondness that makes my head fuzzy as I upturn the crinkly paper bag that has my medications. My pill bottles fall out and are joined by the heavily laminated picture of my fourth birthday party... It's the last one I have of me and my parents together, my spiderman themed party happening in the faded background.

The snapshot catches my mates attention more than my medicines do, enough to distract him from smothering my shoulder with kisses that make me feel melty with how they build warmth up in the pit of my stomach. One hand slips away from holding my belly and with careful fingers, he picks the snapshot up.

"You haven't mentioned them at all..."

...
Silas
...

"I don't know what I would say..."

When his parents hadn't wiggled out of the woodwork to meet me or see him off I had thought it sad, but not necessarily strange. Everyone has different family dynamics...

My parents wouldn't have come to see me off either... But what could you expect from a father who can't stand his own son and a mother too wrapped up in trying to figure out how to get her husband to stay home to even take care of herself properly...

The palest set of dainty fingers joins mine on the photograph, stroking the faces in the frozen frame with a fondness until he gets to the younger version of himself which he only covers with his pointer finger, "This was the last time we were all together. They had a fight after the party... And that was that.  I moved into Grammy and Grandpa's room and the rest was history..."

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