‽ ( fel )
‽ – a hug around the waist
– IT’S GETTING HARDER and harder to hide it, now; the twins are nearly sixteen weeks, which is four months, and he knows they’re supposed to keep it a secret from the kids especially with the new baby and all. but it’s hard – fel’s been wearing a lot of sweaters lately, which is perfect, really, because this time of year calls for that sort of thing. one of the harder parts is keeping his mouth shut; confining any mention of the babies to their bedroom or the kitchen late at night, when all the kids are asleep. sometimes he talks to zodiac about them when he can’t quite hold it in. “you’re gonna have a couple o’ baby cousins,” he tells him. zodiac usually just tilts his head and pants, or continues trying to shove two tennis balls in his mouth at the same time – it’s the sentiment that counts. moments like THESE are the hardest, though, when she’s standing in front of the mirror idly holding her tummy. she’s in this white, flowy dress sort of thing – she’s not huge, but she’s showing, and he married her, that’s his wife, that’s the mother of his children – all of them, not just the ones inside of her now. he stands up from where he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, wandering over to her and offering a fond smile at her reflection – she’s always so beautiful. “you know that song on the radio? the one about —- god, how does it go?” he chuckles lightly, his arms delicately curling around her waist from behind. calloused fingertips move to graze over the lace of her dress across her lower tummy, his eyebrows furrowed in playful thought as he tries to think of a lyric or melody. “the one about god being a woman?” he rests his chin on top of her head, both hands moving to delicately cradle either side of her bump. he sways her, slow and steady as if there’s a tune to sway to. “it’s true —- and she looks so damn beautiful in white.”