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araybiaaa · 15 days ago

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“𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒓”

rafe x sofia

“HOW’RE you feeling?” Rafe asks, his hand tentatively lingered on Sarah’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. Their long journey from Morocco back to North Carolina in addition to JJ’s macabre death had taken an emotional toll on everyone.

Kiara looked shattered. She sat in her seat, unmoving, with only her bottom lip trembling as tears stained her cheeks. Cleo and Pope were consoling each other, her head tucked on his shoulder as his expression reflected one of anguish. John B sat on the other side of Sarah; his elbows rested on his knees as he buried his face in his hands completely heartbroken.

He looked over at his sister; equally as broken as her friends, mourning the loss of someone she loved. He knew that JJ and Sarah had developed a close relationship over the years. He became a pseudo brother to her, seemingly filling the void of Rafe’s absence.

Admittedly, he was a bit jealous at this realization. Because he’d tried so hard to reconcile with her and yet it seemed as his unnoticed attempts meant nothing to her. She had replaced him with JJ and the rest of the pogues. He was envious of their relationship as a group; at how they became the family Rafe wished he and Sarah could be again.

But now, Rafe realized that when JJ died, Sarah lost a brother, someone who was there for her in the times that he wasn’t.

She chuckled wryly, shaking her head as she ran her hands through her hair. “It still doesn’t feel real,” She murmured, wiping her face with the back of her hands.

“I’m sorry,” He laments sympathetically.

While his relationship with JJ wasn’t as amicable and familial like theirs, it seemed cruel that the universe would take away someone so young and effervescent like JJ.

Sarah nodded, giving him a feeble smile. She reached a hand over and intertwined her fingers within John B’s who still seemed to be paralyzed in his own disassociation. “It feels wrong going back there without him, you know? Out of all of us he was the one that lived and breathed OBX.”

“The poguiest pogue,” Rafe accents.

Her smile is a little disheartened as she nods her head in agreement. “Yeah,” Their remembrance of JJ retracts John B from his reverie. He’s blinking rapidly through his foggy vision, choking on a sob, overwhelmed in his grief. And Sarah’s catching him as he falls against her chest—releasing a guttural cry that nearly has Rafe tearing up.

He offers his sister’s shoulder another consoling squeeze before he leans back in his seat to allow Sarah and John B some privacy.

…

They return home a few days later.

As they begin to disperse off of the boat, Rafe approaches Sarah, still admittedly hesitant. It seemed as if she’d forgiven him for his past wrongdoings enough to want to reconcile their tainted relationship, but he also wasn’t certain if she’d done that in that moment or if she truly did want them to be a family again. (He desperately hoped it was the latter.)

“You guys need anything?” He offers, wanting to extend his consolation as much as he could.

Sarah shakes her head, “No. You’ve helped us enough, seriously Rafe. You should go home and see Sofia. You’ve been gone for weeks. I know she misses you,” She contends, giving him a small appreciative smile that substitutes for a furrowed frown when she notices the despondent look that marred his features.

With the chaos of events that occurred, he had momentarily forgotten about the news of her betrayal and their breakup. Rafe was completely taken aback when Chandler informed him of Sofia’s deception.

At first, he assumed it was a ploy to pull a reaction from him but then Chandler said Sofia’s name—and it only took Rafe a second to realize that he’d never introduced the two of them to one another—and then the recollection of their conversation on the beach when he was proposing to her, of Sofia looking guilt ridden about something—that’s when the gut wrenching realization suddenly hit in an ambush.

Chandler wasn’t saying it to deceive him, he was saying it to taunt him. Because he knew that Sofia had conspired against him with Hollis and that Rafe was completely oblivious to it all.

Maybe it was his fault for getting distracted, for holding onto the foolish belief that he had found someone to love and that reciprocated that love for him. He was naive to think Sofia was different; that she wasn’t like everyone else in his life who sought out to hurt him.

He fell in love and got attached to this idea of them building a life together. Hell, he even proposed to her with his mother’s old ring, ready to turn into a family man all for her. But it’s obvious that while he was falling in love, she was concocting a plan with Hollis to scam him out of millions. With the year and a half of dating, Rafe thought he knew Sofia enough to believe that she didn’t care about the luxuries of money, that she liked him for who he was not what he had.

But he soon learned that people’s intentions weren’t always innocent and they aren’t always who you perceive them to be.

“What’s wrong, trouble in paradise?” She asks, through genuine concern that’s worn in the furrow between her brows.

Rafe hesitates, recoiling a bit before shaking his head. Sarah had endured enough drama to last a lifetime in these past few days, his and Sofia’s relationship issues seemed comically trivial in comparison. It seemed redundant to even bother mentioning it with everything her and her friends are going through.

“Uh, no, everything’s uh, everything’s good,” He placates, nodding his head as he gave her a feeble smile. She narrows her eyes at him in disbelief. She looks like she wants to interrogate him further about it and pry the truth out of him, but she relents in doing so, probably too exhausted to do anything else other than lay down.

She stifles a yawn behind her hand, her eyelids lower at her exhaustion. “Okay. Well, I should get going,”

Rafe nods, “Yeah. Right.” His eyes wander to the rest of the pogues. It’s only been a few days since JJ died but he knew they’d be carrying the weight of his death for the remainder of their lives. “I’m gonna get going too. Call me if you—if you need anything or if you just want to talk or whatever. I’m here.” He offers her in consolation, only a slight bit aghast (though pleasantly) when she approaches him and embraces him in a hug.

And unlike back in Morocco, he’s not apprehensive to reciprocate the embrace as he wound his arms around her and held her tightly against his chest.

…

Walking through the front door of his house, Rafe immediately feels numb. In what was supposed to be a jovial return coming back home to Sofia, he was left with an emptiness that clawed tightly at his chest, the only remnants left in its wake were the memories of her before he knew.

How could she do this to him?

He thought she loved him.

He thought that the vulnerability, feelings and time that he shared with her actually meant something—that it was real. But it’s evident that while it was everything to him it was nothing to her. He meant nothing to her.

Exasperated and completely depleted, Rafe groggily ascends up the stairway that lead to his bedroom. He needed a proper day’s rest and a temporary distraction to get his mind off of Sofia. But more importantly, he needed to fucking shower and scrub off all of the dirt and grime that clogged on his skin.

Trekking into the bathroom, he approached the shower where he crouched over slightly so that he’s able to tug at the knob. Water emerges from the tub’s faucet as he turns it on, adjusting the lever to the right as hot water filled inside.

When the water’s temperature is at his satisfaction, he turns on the shower until water’s spewing from the spout of the shower head. Rafe doffed out of his clothing, tugging at the hem of his sweatshirt until he's shrugging it off of his shoulders as it falls to the floor with a soft thud. His briefs and pants soon accompany his sweatshirt as it lay at his feet, a discarded pool of fabric.

He withdraws the shower curtain back, setting one foot after the other onto the shower floor as he stepped inside. Condensation from the shower’s hot temperature clouds the room in a steamed fog.

He steps beneath the shower head, allowing the water to fall against his skin. Just as he opens his eyes to reach for his bottle of body wash, he sees a bottle of cucumber melon shampoo tucked on one of the shelves.

He remembers the smell of it; of how he’d bury his face in her hair whenever they were cuddled together in bed and how the saccharine fragrance enticed him as it lingered in his nostrils. He remembers using his fingers and scrubbing a palm full of it against her scalp as he washed her hair whenever they showered together.

His throat bares as his emotions heighten.

He clenches his jaw, inwardly chastising himself for getting emotional over a fucking bottle of shampoo. He was being pathetic. He needed to move on and forget Sofia.

But how could he move on from a year and a half relationship that he cherished more than anything he’s ever cared about? Ridding his thoughts free of Sofia, he proffers his hand past the bottle of shampoo and reaches for his body wash.

He squeezes a dollop of it onto his wash cloth before he begins to scrub his body clean. He lathered the soap laden cloth across his body, starting at his arms then proceeding downward to his abdomen, thighs and legs before he rinses himself off underneath the shower head again. He continues this process until his body’s no longer caked with junk and the repugnant smell of sweat and salt doesn’t stick to his skin anymore.

Rafe steps out of the shower, grabbing a cloth towel from the linen closet that he uses to scrub himself dry. Just as he’s sauntering back into his bedroom to retrieve his clothing, he’s aghast when he sees Sofia stuffing a pile of clothes into a bag.

“What the hell are you doing here? I thought I told you to get your shit out of my house weeks ago,” He reprimands, wrapping his towel securely around his waist as he watched her jump startled at his stealth approach.

She rests a hand over her chest, attempting to lull its erratic beating as she closed her eyes and murmured a soft curse. When she comes to, she blinks her eyes back open and stares at him. Her expression weens into one of remorse—she nods, timidly writhing her hands together as her eyes met his—doe and solemn. And Rafe has to momentarily look away from her when his feelings begin to overwhelm him.

“This is the last of it. It’s been hard trying to get over here to get everything. I’ve been too busy working,”

He chuckled wryly, nodding his head. “Yeah, well, now that you have everything you can get the hell out of my house.”

Sofia nods somberly. Her bottom lip catches in between her teeth, her eyes lower abashedly to the floor. And damn her for making him feel guilty when she’s the one that lied. Even when he’s supposed to be mad at her, he’s still guilt ridden at the abrasiveness in his tone as he speaks at her. He could feel his defenses wavering, nearly conceding mercilessly to her pleading doe eyes and deepened pout.

But his anger and hurt prevails.

“I can’t believe that I thought you were different. But you’re just like everyone else, huh?” He accosts accusatorially, shaking his head as he looked at her. “Was that your plan all along, trick me into falling in love with you so you could help Hollis and Chandler scam me out of my money? God, Sof! I trusted you!”

Sofia’s eyes turn glassy as she begins to cry. And it takes everything in him to not walk over and brush her tears away.

“I didn’t mean—” She bit on her trembling bottom lip, exhaling shakily as she struggled to catch her breath. “Everything that I feel for you is real. None of it was a lie. The only reason that I did it was because I was hurt. I overheard you talking about me that day and I acted on impulse.”

“You overheard me talking about what?” Rafe inquired, folding his arms against his chest.

“You, Topper and Ruthie talking about me not being good enough for you. About you saying that you have standards and that you’d never live with me or call me your girlfriend,”

He murmurs a soft curse.

He was unaware that she overheard their conversation. But it wasn’t as if he actually meant anything that he said. He only said that to keep Ruthie from interrogating him about their relationship; what he and Sofia had was sacred and special and he wanted to maintain the privacy of that so he just said what he knew would satisfy Ruthie’s drama seeking.

It hurt having to trivialize their relationship, but he did it for them. What Sofia did was solely for her. She broke what Rafe tried so hard to build, rupturing his dream of their happy ending.

Rafe nodded slowly, kissing his tongue against his teeth. “So, instead of coming to talk to me about it you choose to go behind my back and lie—”

“I wasn’t thinking. And believe me when I say that I regretted it immediately after. That’s why I told you not to go through with it! I tried to fix it, Rafe. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

Part of him believes her.

But another part of him, the one that’s acting on his emotional irrationality, was too heartbroken to trust her. It wasn’t about him losing the money, it was about her breaking his trust. He’s had too many people fuck him over in his life; from friends to his own family, the one person he thought was different was her.

She started off as his confidant, his solace in the constant chaos that erupted in his life. Now? He didn’t know what to believe.

“Rafe—”

“You should go,” Her face blanches at his dismissive demeanor. “Make sure you leave the house key and the ring on the nightstand.” Rafe gives her one last look before he pushes himself off of the dresser he was leaned against, turning around to rummage through his drawers for some clothes.

He hears Sofia’s sniffles as she walks past him. The clinking sound of metal as she set the ring and key on the dresser ricocheted throughout the quietness that filled the room. He only turns around when he hears her footsteps descend down the stairs and out the front door when it closes shut.

Rafe runs a hand wearily down his face, “Fuck.”

…

“You’ve been mopin’ ever since you got here bruh,” Barry reprimands, bringing his can of coors up to his mouth as he gulped down a swallow. He belches, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “What’s got you down, country club? You got your money back didn’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rafe nods, exhaling a deep sigh of exasperation. He couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation with Sofia. He laid awake all night, a prisoner to his insomnia, recalling her confession as he was tormented by the remorseful look straining on her face.

He contemplated on his response.

Did he overreact? It wasn’t like she didn’t try to tell him the truth but maybe if she tried harder then he wouldn’t have been so blindsided. He fucking hates this. What he hates most is that he feels so lonely in the house without her there. He couldn’t sleep, not when the smell of her shampoo still lingered on the pillowcases and the vacancy of the space beside him where she previously slept, reminded him that she was gone.

He was miserable without her.

But he was still too heartbroken to forgive her.

Barry raised a curious brow at Rafe before simpering in amusement. “Ah, you must be mopin’ over shortie. What’s her name again, Stephanie?”

“Sofia,” He corrects, reaching forward to rummage through the cooler to grab himself another can of beer. “And no, it’s not like that. We’re not together anymore,” He murmurs as he pried open the can. The froth of the brewed drink fizzles until it eventually subsides.

Rafe parts his lips and brings the can up to his mouth chugging it down in nearly one gulp. He only coughs a sputter, groaning as the beer pooled in his stomach.

“Woah, woah, what happened?” Barry inquired curiously, his body language engaging as he leaned forward in his lawn chair closer to Rafe. “I thought y’all were in love?”

“I thought we were too,” Rafe says sardonically, chuckling in disbelief as he ran a hand over his buzzed hair. “You know that I proposed to her? I gave her my mom’s old wedding ring, told her that I wanted her to move in with me so that we could build a life together…how fucking stupid was that?” He laughs, though it’s devoid of any mirth or comedic hubris.

Barry whistled as he leaned back in his chair. “Damn, you proposed to her? I don’t know, bruh. It must’ve been serious enough for you to do that. What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rafe shrugs, “We’re done,”

Barry gives him a disbelieving look, but thankfully, didn’t offer any input rebuffing against his claims even though they both knew he was still sulking in his misery of her. And before Barry could continue with any more prodding, Rafe’s popping open another beer and chugging it down, allowing the alcohol to lull him in a stupor.

…

Her head aches from all the crying she’s done; her throat’s scratched and her eyes are nearly swollen shut. He hates her. This realization dawned upon her immediately, causing her eyes to weld and a heavy sob to catch in her throat. She didn’t know how everything went so wrong so fast; how one minute she was bathing in glee at the thought of a life with Rafe to now mourning the loss of their relationship.

When she learned of Hollis’ murder, she tried to tell him about her involvement but he told her that he didn’t care about her past or what she’d done so she reluctantly decided to move on. Because if he was willing to overlook anything she might’ve done, she knew that he had to truly love her.

She didn’t think that the happiest moment of her life could be snatched away so quickly. What hurt her more than anything was Rafe second guessing her as if he didn’t know her.

How could he disregard their entire relationship with such insouciance like that? She’s aware that she made a mistake co-conspiring with Hollis, but how could Rafe treat her like this? He told her that he’s done stuff too—way worse than she could imagine but apparently, that meant nothing to him anymore.

A knock against her bedroom door has her groaning softly. She’s been barricaded in her room for days, sulking in her misery and she knew that her placating reassurances that she was fine had finally started to become unbelievable to her father after the third day.

“Cariña,” Her father laments, opening the door as he sauntered inside. She blows her nose into the waddled up piece of tissue, sighing wearily as she resisted the urge to cry again.

“You’ve been in here for days, it’s not healthy for you to sit here and rot in your bed all day.” She knows that he’s right, but she was in an insufferable amount of pain that he just couldn’t understand. “That boy doesn’t deserve your tears,” He condemns and she knows he’s prepared to give her a parental spiel about how Rafe wasn’t good enough for her to begin with from the way his lips purse in a thinned frown in that familiar way it always does whenever he’s about to give her a stern talk.

“Papi,”

Her father murmurs a low curse, shaking his head. “Pinche cabrón! I should drive right over to figure eight and tell him—”

“Papi, Rafe didn’t do anything. It was me.” She confesses, knowing she couldn’t let him continue his berating of Rafe when he didn’t even know the full details of the situation. Of her responsibility in this. “I did what Hollis wanted and he found out and broke up with me,”

Her father’s anger slowly subsides.

He gives her a sympathetic look, his own guilt surfacing at the realization that he was the one that initially came to his daughter regarding Hollis’ offer. But he shouldn’t feel any responsibility because Sofia decided to betray Rafe and now she was dealing with the repercussions of her actions.

She musters enough strength to go to work the next day. It was the last place that she wanted to be, but she knew she couldn’t prolong her return any longer if she wanted to keep her job. She’d already used enough of her sick days and unfortunately didn’t have any more to spare.

So she clambered out of bed, showered, primped herself up with a little bit of makeup to hide the drained pallor of her skin that became flushed from crying, and drove to work inwardly preparing herself for her eight hour shift. It was torture; having to smile in customer’s faces and engage in conversations with them like she wasn’t suffering on the inside.

“Valdez,” Her head turns at the sound of her manager, Leo calling out her name.

He’s standing at the counter behind the register, ringing up a current customer’s total. “Table 7 has been waiting for almost five minutes. Sandra’s on break. Could you handle them for me?” He asked, while handling the customer over their drink.

Sofia nods, knowing that his asking had no effect on her doing so anyway. She walks over to the counter and reaches over to grab her pen and notepad. Her eyes wander around the outside seating area narrowing in on table 7. She halts mid-gait in her steps, eyes widen in shock as she hurried back to the counter.

“Leo, can Paige or someone get that table?” She asked, inwardly hoping that he wouldn’t further inquire or prod her of why she didn’t want to wait the table.

But of course he did and Sofia wasn’t able to stammer a believable enough excuse to get her out of the situation.

“Is there a reason why you can’t do it?”

Yes, but the reason is so pathetic that you’ll end up sending me out there anyway so there’s really no point in me trying to fight against it. “No, sir. I’ll get right on it.” She gives him a forced, feeble smile before turning around to head back to the table. Her smile immediately drops, transitioning into a sullen frown.

She inhaled and exhaled deep breaths as she began to approach the table. Her eyes wandered between the two of them, already feeling a tightening grip coiling in her stomach. She wanted to run, cry, vomit, disintegrate into the very ground that she was walking on. Because just when it seemed as if her days couldn’t get any worse, she turns to see that the table that she was forced to serve was Rafe—who was accompanied by a blonde girl who’s standing so close to him that she’s nearly cemented at his side.

Sofia swallows the thickness of emotion that clogs in her throat, harrumphing softly to announce her presence. Rafe and the blonde were in deep conversation, but at her beckon they turn around in tandem and look down at her. And she’s suddenly flush in chagrin.

“Hi, my name is Sofia and I’m your server. What can I get for you guys?” She tried so desperately hard to maintain a neutral demeanor, but the longer she stood there the more she could slowly feel herself beginning to succumb to her emotions and starting to crumble.

But she couldn’t; not right here and work. So she bites down on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling and rapidly blinks away her impending tears.

“I’ll just have some mozzarella sticks and a beer,” She answers as Sofia scribes down her order. She taps her pen against her notepad while she waited for Rafe.

“I’ll just take another whiskey.” Sofia writes down his order as well, briefly looking up at them and catching a haste glimpse of Rafe’s gaze.

She quickly pulls her eyes away, “I’ll be right back with your order.” She says, placating a genial smile on her face before turning around and walking away.

Once she’s inside and out of their view, she squeezes her eyes shut and released a deep, shaky breath. Had he really moved on that fast? It was only a few weeks ago that he was crouched down on his knee proposing to her and telling her that he loved her, now here he was, nearly parading another girl on his arm at her job. Was he doing this just to spite her or to get a rise out of her? Did he really not care about her feelings anymore that he was willing to result to such petulant tactics like this?

While the chef’s cooking the food, she goes to the bar to retrieve their drinks. She snags a cold beer from the refrigerator then fills whiskey into a glass. She places everything on a serving tray, inwardly preparing herself to face him again.

“Here you go,” She announces as she places their respective drinks in front of them along with the plate of mozzarella sticks. “Alright. Let me know if you need anything else,”

Sofia tries to not ogle unabashedly as he watched the two of them interact—at how the blonde’s smile widened at whatever coquettish remarks that Rafe was feeding her and how he had fallen into his role of interest with such ease. The blonde had moved closer in Rafe’s proximity, brushing her hand against his forearm before giggling girlishly at his words.

They were openly flirting in front of her.

He was doing this on purpose, trying to punish her for what she did to him. And as much as she knows this and knows that she shouldn’t allow his childish behavior to effect her, it does and she could feel the tears that she’d been trying to hard to suppress suddenly falling from her eyes and fogging her vision.

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princesachicana · 2 years ago

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𝐞𝐥𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 (drew starkey x reader)

description: you and drew with newborn babies.

“Aren’t they soo cute” You gushed snuggling further into Drew’s arms. He held the baby monitor in one hand,as his other lightly massaged your back. Your twins Eli and Eliana were born just 3 weeks ago. Although it was very hectic at first dealing with two needy newborn babies, you both got the hang of it pretty quickly.

The dirty diapers, feedings, crying was a new normal for the both of you. Seeing each other step into their respective parent roles warmed your hearts. This is what you both have wanted for so long. The domestic bliss that consumed the house was perfect. "Just like their mama." Drew peppered kisses onto your cheek. "And their daddy!" you teased back with a smile. The love you felt everyday made you feel whole, Drew worshiped everything about you. His love for you only grew now that you were the mother of his children.

"Did you get a chance to respond to that email?" you questioned your fiancé as he placed the baby monitor back onto its charger. Early this morning as you were pumping and Drew was putting the twins back into their cribs he received a email from his management. They wanted to know when he planned on going back to work. You knew that the last thing Drew was worried about was working. He'd been telling everyone on his team he’d get back to it soon. “Yeah, want me to read this script.”

You felt your muscles tense at his words. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to go back to work. You were terrified of being alone again. You knew that it was a low possibility that whatever role he’d take next would allow him to stay home. All the best job offer’s required him to travel sometimes across the country. And with you being a new mom to a set of twins only made you more anxious. You needed him here. But you didn’t want to be the one holding him back from any opportunities.

“Did you read it?” You questioned fiddling with the strings on his sweats. “Didn’t want to” His response came immediately as if he wanted to be done with this conversation. Drew had only read the character description before he was interrupted by the screams of Eli and Eliana. And without second thought he went and comforted his little family. “It’s when the babies were going crazy, they both wanted your boobs.” Drew cracked a smile when you grimaced. Not even three hours ago it was as if your newborn babies were having a screaming match. Alls they wanted was to be fed and both wanted to be the first at it. “Don’t remind me i felt like a horrible mom choosing between them.”

Drew shook his head “Don’t ever say that.” Hooking a finger under your chin he looked into your eyes. “They got the best mom ever you hear me?” He leaned in pressing a long kiss against your lips. You smiled against his lips. “It was Eli’s turn to breast feed! but Eliana hates bottle feeding she won’t eat and it’s the same milk!” You laughed at your very picky baby. “And even though Eli doesn’t mind bottle feedings, the doctor said it’s important for him to get that one on one time with me too you know?”

Drew pulled you closer draping your legs over his lap. “Didn’t she suggest the bottle nipples that are similar to these.” Drew smirked as he slyly grabbed onto one of your breasts. It wasn’t a secret your postpartum body turned him on to no end. “Yea, she did. They should be delivered in like two days.” You pulled his hand away. You couldn’t afford being aroused after the doctors strict rules of “no sex for six weeks.” Drew threw his head back with a groan.

“Baby now i can’t even cop a feel?” Your laugh only made him whimper. “No! because I’d get turned on and we wouldn’t be able to do anything about that!” You defended. “Only three more weeks we got this!” Drew made prayer hands with his eyes closed. Your favorite thing was to tease your man so when you started leaving kisses down his neck he actually groaned. “You’re fucking evil.” Drew’s hands gripped your hips before dragging them down onto your ass. The action only made it worse for him as you moved over his lap. “I think feel something hard, left something in your pocket hmm?” You joked when he hissed. “I can’t help it my fiancé is sexy.” Drew pulled you back in for a kiss.

Crackling from the baby monitor halted your movements. A cry was heard, making you move off Drew quickly . You grabbed the monitor immediately drew looking at it over your shoulder at the same speed. “It’s Eliana she’s awake.” You blew out a breath, she was fine. “I’ll grab her so she doesn’t wake up Eli.” You nodded as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead leaving the room.

“She’s wide awake.” Drew smiled as he held baby Eliana to his chest, her eyes searching all around the room. You walked up to them with a fond smile. “She’s such a night owl.” You brought your finger to Eliana’s little fist, heart warming when she wrapped a tiny hand around it. “Then we got our boy over there who could sleep through a hurricane.” Drew adjusted her on his chest.

You laughed at that, where eliana stayed up all night and always fought nap time. Eli was the first to wake up and take the longest naps. “Our next one gonna be another girl mark my words!” Drew stated matter of factly.

“Already thinking of having another one?” You gasped. “What can i say I like seeing you pregnant knowing it’s my baby I put in there.” He smirked.