#drawing for nursery kids

[helloparent]

Easy Drawing ideas for Nursery Kids

Teaching children to draw is a fun approach to improve their fine motor skills, creative expression, and observational abilities. Drawing is not just an artistic medium in the vibrant world of nursery education; it is also an essential teaching tool that enhances the Nursery Class Syllabus. It offers a basis for critical thinking, reading, and numeracy. In order to provide every child with the opportunity to discover their creative potential in a joyful and encouraging setting, this book examines basic yet captivating drawing exercises that correspond with early learning objectives.

The Role of Drawing in Early Education

Drawing is more than just a leisure activity for nursery kids; it's a gateway to learning and development. It supports the enhancement of fine motor skills, encourages observational learning, fosters creativity, and aids in emotional expression. Incorporating drawing into the nursery curriculum through a school parent app can also facilitate a collaborative learning experience between educators, parents, and children, making learning a cohesive journey.

Key Benefits of Drawing for Nursery Kids

Enhances Fine Motor Skills: Gripping pencils and crayons improve dexterity.

Promotes Creativity and Imagination: Allows children to express their thoughts and ideas visually.

Supports Emotional Expression: Offers an outlet for emotions and feelings.

Encourages Observational Skills: Helps children notice details in their environment.

Simple Drawing Activities for Nursery Kids

1. Basic Shapes and Lines

Start with the basics. Introducing simple shapes and lines can help children understand the foundational elements of drawing. Activities can include:

Drawing circles, squares, triangles, and rectangles.

Connecting dots to form shapes.

Creating patterns with different types of lines.

2. Nature Drawing

Nature offers endless inspiration for young artists. Simple nature drawing activities can include:

Drawing flowers, trees, and leaves using basic shapes.

Creating simple landscapes with the sun, mountains, and rivers.

Observing and drawing animals with simple geometric shapes.

3. Characters and Faces

Drawing characters and faces can be a fun way for kids to explore expressions and emotions. Activities might involve:

Drawing stick figures and adding simple features like eyes, mouth, and hair.

Creating cartoon characters from shapes.

Expressing emotions through facial expressions on drawn characters.

4. Objects Around Us

Familiar objects provide excellent drawing prompts. Suggestions include:

Drawing everyday items like fruits, vegetables, furniture, and vehicles.

Encouraging kids to draw their favorite toy or book.

Using blocks or other toys to create a scene and then drawing it.

5. Storytelling Through Drawing

Drawing can be a powerful storytelling tool. Encourage children to:

Draw a sequence of events from a story or their imagination.

Create a comic strip with simple characters.

Illustrate their own stories or experiences.

Incorporating Drawing into the Nursery Class Syllabus

Integrating drawing activities into the Nursery Class Syllabus ensures that art becomes a fundamental part of learning. Here are some strategies:

Daily Drawing Time: Allocate a specific time each day for drawing, allowing children to explore different themes and techniques.

Thematic Drawing: Connect drawing activities with current themes in the curriculum, such as seasons, festivals, or animal life.

Show and Tell: Organize sessions where children can share their drawings and explain their ideas, promoting language skills and confidence.

Leveraging Technology

The use of technology, such as a school parent app, can enhance the drawing experience for nursery kids by:

Providing access to digital drawing tools and apps that offer a different medium for creativity.

Allowing parents and educators to share children’s artwork, fostering a sense of accomplishment and belonging.

Offering tutorials and drawing prompts that can inspire children and support their learning.

Conclusion: Unleashing Creativity Through Drawing

Easy Drawing for Nursery Kids is only one of the many advantages that come with including drawing into early childhood education. Easy, entertaining drawing exercises can be incorporated into the nursery curriculum, and parents and teachers can use resources like the school parent app to create a rich, nurturing environment where young students can express themselves, explore their creativity, and gain critical skills for future learning.

Early drawing instruction benefits children not just by developing their artistic abilities but also by establishing the foundation for future academic success, emotional maturity, and a lifetime enjoyment of the arts. Let's keep in mind that each child's artwork is a window into their imagination, providing insights into their ideas and experiences as we support this creative journey.

Check: Preschool in Wagholi, Preschool in Noida

[swiftfootedachilles]

mickey painting a mural on the wall in their nursery........

[littlebrushprint]

Create a whimsical and enchanting atmosphere in your baby girl's room with our delightful set of digital nursery wall art featuring adorable animals wearing flower crowns. These six safari art prints showcase the cutest safari animals, including a dog, a cat, and a chicken, each adorned with their own unique flower crown. The animals with crowns exude a sense of elegance and charm, adding a touch of magic to your nursery decor. These baby dog, baby cat, and farm animal prints bring a playful and endearing vibe to the space, making it a delightful haven for your little one. Whether it's a jungle nursery girl or a baby girl room, these animal prints with flower crowns create a captivating ambiance that sparks the imagination. Let the vibrant colors and adorable characters of these wall art nursery prints brighten up your baby's space, inspiring a sense of joy and wonder. Our bunny rabbit print, along with the other flower crown animals, completes the collection, making it a perfect addition to your nursery decor. Embrace the sweetness and beauty of these flower crown animals and let their charm transform your baby girl's room into a magical sanctuary.

#girlnurseryboho #nurseryrhyme #nurserydecor #nurseryrhymes #nurserynurse #nurserylife #nurseryorganization #modernnursery #modernkids #modernkidsroom #nurserytheme #babyshowergift #magicalnursery #babyshowerdecorations #kids #nurseryprints #nurseryprintable #digitalprint #kidsplayroom #kidsplayroomdecor  #kidsplaying #jungletheme #woodlandthemenursery #flowercrown #dog #dogpainting #goldenretriever #cat #catpainting #chicken #cuteanimals

[lexa-griffins]

Clarke and Lexa spend an entire weekend building a nursery for their baby and fill it with a crib, rocking chair, and other stuff for their newborn

Sure it takes a weekend to put together but oh it takes so much longer to prepare. Clarke spends the first two months of Lexa's pregnancy designing the furniture for the nursery and the remaining seven months being a pain in the butt of the various carpenters her and Lexa choose to make them, staring down at them to make sure they do it how she asked.

Since you said for their newborn, I can totally see them only being able to actually get it ready when the baby is already here. It felt like they had so much time to place everything how they wanted, Lexa has these plans of spending sometime in the nursery before the baby arrives so she can get more acclimated with it and where things are situated, the cloth diapers, the clothes, the blankies, the whole thing. She wanted to be as prepared as she could be. But as the furniture gets ready they start just dumping it inside the room, waiting for a damn weekend where Lexa didn't feel like her back was killing her and where Clarke felt they had enough of the stuff to actually get it together.

And then the baby is born and the nursery is still not finished. Which is fine, the baby is sleeping in a bassinet in their bedroom right now and so far the bed is perfectly fine for Lexa to feed the baby. But they did all this work to get the pieces for the nursery to be how they wanted so they wanna get it ready you know? It is, however, so much easier now. Before Lexa felt like she was helping put together a bedroom for a stranger whose habits she was highly unfamiliar with and although Clarke seemed to know in theory how everything should go, it was clearly a very idealized plan. But now that they've had a couple of weeks of practice its so much easier to get it ready, to know where everything needs to be. They also find out some of Clarke's furniture designs aren't the most efficient and while the idea of Lexa's rocking chair being similar to her throne was cute, it huts her back and there's so many pillows on it you can barely see it.

But it's so much funner getting it together with the baby there, Lexa being able to be there and help lift stuff instead of just staring as Clarke pushes furniture around, showing the baby all around the room as they get it together. Sure, getting their baby's nursery together as a last couples activity as a family of two sounded endearing but working on it now that they know their baby is so much more rewarding :')

[chuckhistory]

If your friend has kids (ages 2-7) and they love The Beastie Boys or snakes or both, get them this book.

I wrote and illustrated another kids book.

Check it out!

[annajonesdrawinglife]

New video, please have a look. Please like and subscribe to my channel. Thank you.😃

[ilseofskadi]

working in the 2s room again this week and it's 🙃🙃🙃

i was *supposed* to go back to my room but the woman who is on maternity leave hasn't responded and it's past the 6 weeks

we do not have enough people for this

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Sweet Nectar // Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Summary: Aemond feels ever so slightly jealous when he watches his wife feed their babe, he'll have a taste for himself tonight.

WARNINGS: mdni, afab!reader, lactation kink, breeding kink, unprotected p in v sex, reader is already a mom, breastfeeding, aemond craving the good old tiddy milk, tiddy sucking, teasing, biting, nipple play, aemond is so down bad for the milkers. + not proofread.

WC: 2,078

A/N: I suddenly got the urge to write this I'm not kidding 😭😭 // diviver credits to @cafekitsune

You coo softly while gently rocking back and forth as the small babe in your arms begins getting fussy in between your arms, you pat her gently and reassure the fussy babe, while caressing her cheek.

“Are you hungry, my dear?” You ask her as if she'll respond verbally, a small croak leaves her throat before she coos, stretching her tiny arms and placing it upon your breast as a way to answer your question. You chuckle at her action before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Shall I take her to the nursemaid, princess?” The maidservant allotted to you questions, putting your comfort as a first priority, you shake your head, “No need, I shall feed the babe myself.” You reject her politely, “Can you undo the lace?” You ask her, and she nods, her fingers making quick work of the lace that's holding the top of your gown together, you pull the material down — along with your chemise — just enough for one of your breasts to be exposed but cover everything else.

You hold the baby in a feeding position, and she immediately latches onto your nipple, suckling as she makes soft satisfied noises, as her hunger is being satiated. You giggle at her cuteness and watch as she closes her eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.

The door to your shared chamber opens and you lift your head up to see Aemond, carrying a bunch of scrolls and books in his hands, he sets them down on the nearby table before turning his attention to you. “My prince.” the maidservant greets and Aemond nods, “Prepare a bowl of water and a rag, after that, leave us alone.” He commands her and she bows, swiftly beginning to do what she's been told. After the maid leaves the bowl and leaves, Aemond quickly begins to retire for the night, undressing himself, usually, he would call in a manservant or you would help him, but he cannot call the manservant when you're breastfeeding, and neither can you help him because of that.

So he does it himself, after undoing his upper garment, he wears nothing but his white plain transparent tunic and breeches ; that are more suited for sleepwear, loose and thin. Aemond later washes his hands and forearms thoroughly, ridding them of any kind of dirt before making his way to you.

“How was your day, Husband?” You ask him, watching as he comes near and stands next to you, staring at you for a second before sitting down beside you. “Hm, t'was decent, what about you?” He asks you, his gaze dropping down to your chest. “It was good, I did not wish to partake in any social meetings today, but rather decided to spend it with her.” You look down at your child who is now sleeping. Aemond hums before he lays his head on your shoulder getting comfortable in your presence enough to express his desires.

“I want to have my wife tonight.” He mutters, nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck as his gaze remains fixated on your chest while he rests his hand on your thigh, slowly drawing imaginary patterns on it, indicating what he wants. Your face heats up at his implications, “You will, husband, let me call the servant and have her taken to the nursery for tonight.” You reply to him, slowly pulling her away from your breast and covering yourself up.

“I will call for the servant.” He offers, hoping to help you out and you nod, he opens the chamber door stepping out and turning to the guard before asking the guard to fetch a servant, to which he immediately obeys and goes to get one. Aemond gets inside, making his way over to you before he takes your child from you and hands her over to the servant who had entered the room just then. “Take care of her for the night in the nursery, should there be any news that she was hurt in any way, I will cut off all of your limbs.” He threatens to which the poor servant just nods her head in fear assuring him that no harm would occur to your child, and then she takes her away.

The door closes and Aemond secures it tightly so it doesn't open upon impact. And all the while Aemond was talking to the servant, you had quickly gotten undressed and were now sitting in your chemise, putting the gown that had fallen to the floor away.

Aemond goes straight to the bed and sits on it and you watch as he removes his eyepatch, placing it on the table next to the bed before he turns his attention to you. He looked so ethereal when he was staring at you, his sapphire glinted as the fire from the chambers reflected off from it. “Come.” He commands and you slowly make your way over to him, now standing in front of him.

He looks up at you the tension thick in the air as his eye is filled with pure desire for you. he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your chest and pulling you, this causes you to stumble and lose your balance which he takes as an advantage to pull you onto the bed with him, flipping you over and getting on top.

His hair curtains around your face as he stares at you, his eye moving back and forth between your own, taking in your beauty. You raise your hand and gently tuck his hair into his ear before caressing his cheek, “You're so beautiful.” You hear him say and you smile, “I could say the same about you, husband.” You respond, He gives you a small smile before tilting his head slightly and connecting his lips to yours.

His lips felt soft against yours, you reciprocated and kissed him back. You felt the heat bloom in your core as he slowly grinds himself against your lower abdomen while kissing you. He slowly slides his hand against yours before intertwining your fingers with his. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside, allowing him to deepen the kiss which resulted in him humming in satisfaction.

He pulled away shortly after, panting for air, his kisses then trailed down towards your neck, he pecked and nipped at the skin of your neck, leaving bite marks as a way to mark you as his, he untwined his hand from yours to pull down your chemise, causing your tits to spill out of their confines.

He presses kisses down to the valley in between your breasts before he stays there for a while, “You know, I'm jealous—” he begins, his other hand coming up and gently fondling with your breast, “— that our daughter gets to have these whenever she wishes, meanwhile I'd have to wait until night.” He whines slightly, his thumb pressing over your sensitive nipple making you gasp slightly.

He decides he doesn't want to waste any more time and immediately wraps his lips around your nipple, pulling and suckling on your breast like a babe, he swirls his tongue and flicks it up and down the bud, Aemond hums in satisfaction when he feels the taste of your milk in his mouth.

He squeezes and fondles your other breast, rolling your nipple between his index and thumb finger and pulling meanly on it. Your breathing becomes shorter and faster as you begin to get aroused by his ministrations which prompts you to rub your thighs together trying to ease the throbbing between your legs with some friction.

It doesn't go unnoticed by Aemomd, but he instead focuses his attention to your other breast, repeating his actions and drinking your milk selfishly for himself, his teeth grazes against your bud and you wince slightly at the burn it causes only for him to bite onto it, making you whine and squirm before he sucks on it again as a way to soothe the pain he just caused. He pulls away with a wet pop and you take notice of the milk that's dripping from the side of his mouth and down to his neck which was such a perverse sight, yet you couldn't help make you feel more aroused so you guided his head back to your breast again.

And so he took your breast in his mouth once again, drinking all of your milk up you moaned in pleasure as his tongue flicker up and down your bud. You whimpered because you are sensitive from earlier feeding.

You felt him humping against your thigh as he tried ease the tension between his very own legs, he let go of your breast, unable to hold himself back anymore, he sat straight up and began to slip down his pants and take off his tunic, you did the same with your chemise, discarding it and throwing it someone to the side of your chamber.

He spreads your legs wide and lines his cock against your entrance slowly pushing it in, this causes you to tremble in excitement as his cock stretches you deliciously, you let out a gasp once he is fully settled. He lifts your hips off the mattress, holding you by your thighs as he slowly begins to move.

His thrusts were slow at first, almost as if he's teasing himself until he begins to pick up on the momentum, thrusting his hips back and forth, he begins to pick up the speed quite steadily.

You grind your hips to match his rhythm as your body jolts up and down the bed, your tits bouncing as a result, the moans of his name leave your lips like holy chants, “Aemond— oh fuck– right there– Aemond—!” all the while his tip is continuously hitting that sweet spot of yours, he grips one of your breasts and stares at it intently, “They look so good when they're swollen and full of milk.” He refers to your tits, he squeezes your tit slightly and watches as droplets of milk begin oozing out. “Oh gods— you're still full– fuck.” He quickly shifts his weight, dropping your lower body down onto the mattress and leaning forward to take your breast in his mouth while he fucks you.

“Seven fucking hells–— I don't think I can ever get enough of this ; perhaps I should keep you pregnant constantly, Yes? So your tits are always full of milk, for the babe” he grunts, his peak nearing as he mouths at your nipple. “And for me— ” His thrusts become more frantic and desperate, “You would like it wouldn't you? I know you would. You'd love to be full of me— I can only imagine how gorgeous you'd look, constantly waddling around while carrying my child— Answer me.” He growls. “Yes yes yes yes! yesyes! Aemond! I'd love it so so so much please please—” You babble as you feel your peak nearing. “Good girl— fuck!” He moans as he peaks, and your babbling is cut short as you gasp because you too reach your high right after him, the pleasure explodes inside you like a volcano, slowly seeping and coursing through your veins, you feel hot, warm, cold, suffocated all at the same time due to the intensity of the pleasure.

Aemond slows down his thrusts before fully stopping and pulling out, he watches as your cunt pushes out his spend to which he tuts disappointedly at before scooping it up with his finger and pushing it all back in.

“Here I am; planning to keep you full of my child and yet you're here denying it? Such a disobedient wife.” He slaps your clit as a punishment making you whimper, “I apologise— t'wasnt my intention.” You reply, breathlessly and he hums.

He lays down next to you, catching his breath along with you. You watch and his hands rests on your lower abdomen. He grabs you by your hips and turns you around to face him before he grabs the sheets and throws them over you both before pulling you close, your breasts pressing up against him, and the milk transfering over to his chest, making it sticky.

“Aem— it's messy.” Your voice comes out slurred and Aemond simply hums, “Let it be.” He hugs you even tighter, and you sigh, before wrapping your arm around his waist, hugging him back and you both slowly drift off into sleep.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[stellawish]

swiss roll

summary: satoru trying to help his son to learn how to roll over genre: fluff, domestic life warnings: none dad!gojo x mom!reader

“Here we go, buddy.” Sitting on the floor in Haru’s nursery, Gojo gently laid his son on his belly. The baby started to wiggle his short legs while looking at the colorful animals printed on the mattress.

Satoru began to gently massage the baby’s small back. Using rubbing motions with his hands, he drew a line from the shoulders to the lower back. In response, Haru started babbling.

The contrast between your son's small back and Gojo's large hands looked comical. Watching this, you giggled.

As first-time parents, you are always learning and seeking new information, whether from books or various websites.

Recently, you caught Satoru watching a tutorial video. "Massage helps strengthen the back muscles and aids in digestion," said the woman in the video about helping your baby learn to roll over.

Satoru continued with the same gentle movements of his thumbs, drawing lines in opposite directions as he moved lower.

When he finished, he turned the baby onto his back and said in a mock-serious voice, "Now the real training begins. This time, don’t expect any mercy."

Your 4-month-old boy showed his gummy smile, and unable to resist, Satoru kissed his son’s round cheek.

Your husband took Haru's short legs and lifted them into the air, directing them towards his tummy. Then he lowered them down and repeated the movement again.

You were lying next to them on your side, resting your hand under your head and watching the scene with a broad smile. “By the way, Toru, Megumi texted me and said they’ve arrived.”

Megumi and his friends went to summer camp for a few weeks. When he first told you about this plan, both you and Gojo were surprised, as Megumi isn’t very social and prefers spending time alone.

So, his decision to attend summer camp delighted both of you. “I’m glad he’s opening up and coming out of his shell,” you said.

“They’re good kids,” Gojo added.

“There's a great spot nearby that sells some awesome strawberry Swiss rolls. I should get him to bring some home.”

You watches him simultaneously lifting the little boy by his arms and placing him in a sitting position. Satoru read somewhere that such activities strengthen the baby’s muscles and help them learn to roll over independently.

“There you go, little one.” As he turned Haru onto his back, Satoru tickled the baby’s neck, making him wiggle.

Next, your husband, carefully supporting the baby’s side, flipped him onto his tummy and then back onto his back, repeating the action once more.

For the last time, Gojo exaggeratedly sighed and, in a playful manner, said, “Good job, buddy. You did great.” He praised his son. “Now tell me, where did you get your athleticism from, hmm?”

You giggled. “You, my little Swiss roll.” Gojo tickled the baby’s belly and blew raspberries, causing Haru to wiggle and giggle.

Satoru decided to spare the baby and pulled away with a big smile. “Okay, now which book do you want to read today?”

He flipped Haru back onto his tummy and stood up while you gently stroked the baby’s back.

Gojo chose a book and lay down on the other side of Haru. He opened the first page and placed the colorful interactive book in front of his son, encouraging him to explore it.

You stretched your left arm out and accidentally pressed a toy, which squeaked “meow.”

This distracted Haru from the book, and he turned his head toward you. Unable to find the source of the sound, he tucked his right arm underneath himself and, lifting his plump left thigh, ended up on his back.

You and Gojo looked at each other in shock, questions in your eyes. “Did you see that?” your lips stretched into identical smiles. “Oh, my baby, what a good boy. Can you do that again, hmm?” You both began to shower your chubby little one with kisses, eliciting his laughter and making his cheeks rosy.

While you all cuddled together, praising your little one, you locked eyes with Satoru. Despite the genuine joy for your son’s first victory, you saw the reflection of your own thoughts in his eyes: Don’t grow up too fast, son.

more dad!gojo HERE

[themintsimmer]

pregnancy, parenting, and toddler mods to enhance realism | the sims 4 | all mods and cc mentioned

hi tumblr! i just posted a video of some family gameplay mods that i'll be using in my let's play, here's all the links mentioned:

pregnancy / parent mods

parent at home - semi active career by loryna

expanded pregnancy interactions by loryna

parenting styles mod by loryna

realistic childbirth mod (llamaze class update) by pandasama

toddler mods

patty cake mod by ozzy sims 4 mods

functional drawing station by pandasama

makeup bag / makeover parents by pandasama

education overhaul mod (preschool) by adeepindigo

functional kids trampoline by pandasama

functional play food truck by pandasama

cozy nursery set (slide) by hydrangea

toddler basketball hoop by pandasama

time out chair by ozzy sims 4 mods

h&b pro toddler tablet by littledica

high chair lock by pandasama

functional squishamallows by bellasims

no puddles under bathtubs by littlemisssam

infant / toddler bath sponge override by vixonspixels

healthy porridge for toddlers by somik and severinka

cartoon movie override by midnitehearts

misc mod / cc / lot

clean day clutter + cleaning items override by simkoos

white willow memorial hospital by hyggetrait

kaira's outfit : lil one recolor set by themintsimmer

you can see all gameplay + functionality of these mods here

[sreepadamangaraj]

A new song from Marah KG and the Baby in which children learn a variety of words in both Arabic and English and how to have a conversation with others

[value2society]

not yet old enough to float.

[starry-agere]

how to make an agere journal! 🪐

🚀 supplies

anything will work, but here are some supply ideas to make your journal!

find a cute notebook to use! you can find journals for kids online or at most stores

gather pens, crayons and colored pencils! there are lots of sparkly gel pens you can find, including pens that are themed around kids shows

get stickers to decorate your journal with!

make a bookmark to help you keep track of where you left off

note: you don't have to buy anything if you want to make an agere journal! you can absolutely use a school notebook and whatever pencils, pens and crayons you have lying around.

🌠 about me! write about:

your favorite things to do while regressed

your favorite shows and books

what music you like listening to when small

what you liked to be called when little

your favorite little gear

what regression is like for you

what age you regress to

what you want to be when you grow up

do a “big me” vs “little me” comparison

💫 about my caregiver! write about:

your favorite things about your cg

what you and your cg like to do together

how long they’ve been your cg

your favorite memory with your cg

things you associate with your cg

your cg’s favorite things - their favorite animal, show, color, etc

if you don't have a cg, write about what you'd like in a cg!

🌌 my dream little gear! you can:

draw your dream paci

design a onesie

draw stuffies you want

design teethers and blankets

come up with fun toys! you can find inspiration online, if you want

draw your dream playroom or nursery. you can also print or cut out pictures and glue them into your journal!

🌙 about my stuffies! you can:

make an “about the stuffie��� section for each one! what's their name, where did you get them, how long have you had them, what kind of animal are they, etc!

draw a picture of your favorite stuffies

write about the adventures you like to go on with your stuffies

come up with cute outfit ideas for your stuffies

🪐 things to draw:

you and your caregiver together

any pets you have

your favorite animal(s)

characters from your favorite show or picture book

fun things you did that day

things for holidays, like pumpkins for halloween, a bunny for easter, reindeer and a tree for christmas, etc

you as a superhero

you as a pet or animal

you in space, as an astronaut!

make up an alien! draw what they might look like

🌟 other ideas:

design a cartoon or picture book! make a cast of characters and write about their adventures

write notes for your cg or sibbies

write about your day! what did you do, who did you see, etc

you can print out activity sheets and glue them into your journal, if you want!

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Accidentally Bring Up an Insecurity| Jisung

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

You had always admired Han's loving spirit and his ability to find inspiration in the smallest things. He brought light into your life in ways you never thought possible. And he helped you see the world in a way most didn't. You loved that you had that in common with Han- an appreciation for things that breathed life into your creative works.

You had never been very good at drawing. Or writing. Or anything having to do with the fine arts. Rather your creativity came more in a problem solving way. But in order to connect with Jisung, you decided to take up sketching to connect with Han a little more, because you loved him.

But that just created a deep-rooted insecurity about your creative abilities. Surrounded by so many talented people - as you were around the kids -you often felt your own contributions paled in comparison, and it was a fear you kept to yourself.

One evening, Han was over at your place, working on some new lyrics while you attempted to write poetry. He was sprawled on the couch, notebook in hand, humming a melody under his breath. You sat at your desk, scribbling down words and then erasing them feeling increasingly frustrated with your lack of progress.

You had long given up drawing, and you thought it might be easier to write a poem, since it was words that described your feelings. You could easily write a poem about something you knew well right? It couldn't be that hard.

You scratched your head as you tried to think of rhymes.

"How's it going over there?" Han asked, glancing up from his notebook.

"Not great," you mumbled, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

Han chuckled, not noticing your tone. "I figured."

His casual comment felt like a sting, a reminder of your perceived inadequacies. You forced a smile and nodded, but inside, you felt your confidence crumbling.

He got up and walked over to you, picking up your paper in his hands. He chuckled. "Poetry now huh?"

You felt your cheeks burn and tried to take it from him. "No-"

"No jagiya I want to read it." He said holding it above your head and reading it. "You make me laugh when I am sad, Your jokes are the best I've ever had. When you smile, my heart feels light, You make everything so bright." Han giggled again. "It's like one of those poems we had to write in elementary school."

That made your cheeks burn even more. "Jisung give it back-"

"Your hugs are warm, your eyes so kind, With you, I leave my worries behind. You're my sunshine, my best friend, With you, I hope the good times never end." He gives you a cute pouty face in a teasing manner. "Awww Y/N... it's such a cute little poem. It's like a little nursery rhyme."

"Jisung stop!" You called out again, feeling your eyes burn as you put your fists to your eyes, the embarrassment you had taking over.

"I know my poem's not that great, But loving you is my favorite fate. Thank you Jisung..." His smile fell and he swallowed. "Thank you...Jisung for...for being you. My love for you is always true." He looked up and seemed to realize what he was teasing you about and his lip trembled. "Y/N-"

"I want to be alone." You mumbled through your tears. Jisung wanted to reach out, but he knew he had hurt your feelings, but knowing you he also knew you needed space.

The next few days were a blur of self-doubt and creative blocks. You avoided drawing and writing, and found excuses to stay busy with other tasks. Han noticed your change in behavior and even if you guys had talked a couple hours after the incident, he still didn't think his apology was enough.

One afternoon, while you were both working on a puzzle together, Han brought up the subject again. "Hey, you know I'm really really sorry right?"

You nodded. "I know. I'm not mad anymore, Jisung."

Han frowned. "But you haven't been writing at all. Or drawing...I feel like it's my fault. No...I know it's my fault. I'm sorry I made fun of your poem- I loved it. I really did. It's the sweetest thing anyone has ever written me..."

You felt a pang in your chest, wishing you could believe him. "Thanks, but sometimes it feels like I'm just not good enough."

Han looked taken aback. "What do you mean? You're incredibly talented."

You sighed, finally letting out a bit of your frustration. "It's just… I see how talented everyone else is, including you, and I can't help but feel like my work doesn't measure up."

Han's expression softened, and he reached out to squeeze your hand. "You're amazing in your own right, and comparing yourself to others isn't fair to you. I wouldn't ever want you to compare yourself to me. That's like comparing a doctor to an actor. Both are genius in their own right, but do you expect an actor to be able to perform surgery like a doctor? Or the doctor to recite the entire second act of Hamlet? You have your talents that I could never even begin to measure up to, Y/N. Its the same with everyone who walks this planet..."

His words were kind, but they didn't fully reach the core of your insecurity. You forced a smile and nodded, hoping the conversation would end there.

A week later, Han invited himself over to your house, hoping to put an end to both of your guy's misery. You hated feeling like you had to walk on eggshells around him, and he hated thinking he was making you uncomfortable.

You guys ate dinner and started watching a drama. After the fourth episode Han pressed the pause button.

"Baby...can I show you something?"

You nodded, slightly confused as to why Jisung would pause your binge.

He grabbed his laptop from his bag and came back towards you, placing his headphones on your head.

He unlocked his laptop, clicked a few buttons and a soft melody filled your ears. Your eyes widened.

"Did you guys wrtie a new song?" You asked excitedly, but Jisung shushed you gently and motioned for you to listen.

You closed your eyes and let yourself go, embracing the music fully.

You felt your heart almost stop when you heard the words of your poem masterfully intricated into the song.

"Why did you show me that?" you asked, your voice trembling. You didn't dare open your eyes, or you were sure the tears you had would fall.

Han sounded puzzled. "Because it's great and I wanted to share it."

"But it's not great," you snapped, tears falling from your eyes as you opened them. "People will know you just used those words. You're so much more well versed and-"

Han stopped in his tracks, realization dawning on him. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just wanted to show them how talented you are.” You shook your head.

"Ouch, Y/N..." Jisung chuckled, his voice breaking a little. You looked at Han, whose chubby cheeks were encompassed by his pout. His boba eyes sad.

"No- No baby I meant... I feel like my words are stupid. Not your voice. Your song was absolutely beautiful... I just feel like I made you waste such a good backtrack."

You wiped away a tear, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "It's not your fault. It's just… I can't help but feel like I'll never be as good as everyone else. And I feel like you did that to make me feel better..."

Han pulled you into a tight hug, his voice gentle and soothing. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You're incredibly talented and creative, and your art is a reflection of who you are. It's unique and beautiful, just like you."

You clung to him, the sincerity in his words slowly breaking through your walls. "I just want to feel like I'm enough," you whispered.

Han held you at arm's length, looking into your eyes. "You are more than enough. Your worth isn't defined by how perfect your art or writing is or how you compare to others. It's about the passion and love you put into what you do."

His words resonated with you, and you felt a sense of comfort and reassurance. Han's unwavering support and belief in you made a difference, and you realized that your insecurities didn't define you.

"And I didn't make that song to make you feel better...I made it so you could see just how much inspiration I find from you. Y/N I love you more than anything. So, I was over the moon when I wrote this. And even more elated when I got to use the words the love of my life wrote. That's only the demo..." He grins sheepishly. "I was thinking...it would sound cool if you could leave that poem as a voicemail. I could make it the outro of the song..."

You looked at him with wide eyes. "You mean it?"

"Of course I mean it baby. I mean... I know Stay speculates I'm in a relationship...it's been a year now so I feel like this would be a fun way of confirming that. And I want the world to hear the beautiful voice of my baby." He coos, squishing your cheeks.

You giggle and nod, as Han peppers kisses all over your face.

One evening, as you both sat on the couch, Han handed you a sketchbook he had bought for you. "I got this for you. I want you to fill it with whatever makes you happy. No pressure, just pure creativity. It doesn't even have to be art. Maybe you could write me more poems..."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thank you, Ji. For everything."

Han wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm always here for you. And for inspiration. Because you're my inspiration." He says nuzzling his nose against yours.

You leaned into him, feeling a sense of peace and contentment.

His inspiration. You thought.

What an amazing thing to be...

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@minsungsthirdwheel

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + twenty two

authors note: this one may leave people a bit confused by certain things.....that's intentional.

cw/tw: fluff, angst, and smut

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 9k

“Nu uh!”

“Uh huh!”

“Nu uh!”

“Uh huh!”

“Girls.” To his credit, Roman does his best to not interfere or get involved in the midst of his girls arguing. He prefers letting them work it out among themselves, and they typically do. But, there are times, like this, where he just doesn’t have it in him to listen to their bickering. “Stop arguing.”

Lina is the expected one to protest, and she doesn’t disappoint or prove his prediction wrong. “But, daddy—”

“Lina, be nice to your sister.” He looks over at his other twin daughter. “Leya, you have to share.”

The quieter of the two looks less than pleased at his instruction and is clearly in one of her few talkative moods, protesting like her sister, “But, it’s mine, daddy.”

“It’s gonna be mine if ya’ll don’t stop fighting.” Rarely does he have to be strict with them, but they’ve both been on one all day, and Roman is going off barely four hours of sleep because their baby brother decided to make it one of those nights for his parents. “I’m not gon’ tell ya’ll again.”

A shared set of downward gazes followed by another shared ‘yes, sir’ leads to them both switching their attention from the tablet to one of their playthings in the backyard. 

Roman runs his hand over his face as the backdoor opens, revealing Solana’s smiling but tired face. She’s operating off just as many fumes as she is.

“He finally go down?” She nods at his question, moving to sit on his lap, Roman wrapping his arms around her. 

“Eventually.” She chuckles, placing her phone on the rattan chair next to them, Roman seeing the footage of the nursery showing their son sleeping. Finally. “Could be worse. Remember when we had to do it with the both of them?”

Roman offers a small smile. He certainly does. “He takes after his sisters.”

Solana’s smile dims a bit as she caresses his cheek. “You should go try to take a nap. I can watch them.”

That’s an immediate no. “I’m fine.” A default answer for him. He gestures to the now laughing twins, explaining, “especially since they seem to be in one of their moods.”

Solana frowns and then rolls her eyes. “Wonder where they get that from?” Giggling, Solana kisses his cheek and again tries to convince him to do what he’s absolutely not going to do. “Seriously, Ro, I can handle it. They tend to get like that sometimes when you’re out of town anyway.”

At that, he looks over at her. “Really?” She nods. “You want me to talk to them?” Cause as much as he loves his girls, he has never and will never put up with them disrespecting their mother. That will always be where he draws the line.

With anyone. 

Solana shakes her head and instead moves to settle her head in the crook of his neck. “Let them just be kids.” Roman grows quiet, picking up on the underlying meaning to her statement. An agreement they both made with each other during her first pregnancy.  

That they would give their kids the childhood they never had.

“They’re happy, baby.” Years of being together has allowed both husband and wife to practically learn and know each other like the back of their hand, which is why Solana is so easily able to hear Roman’s unspoken concerns. “We all are.”

Her words, like her mere presence and everything else about her, are comforting to Roman. He holds her a little tighter, lips gazing over her temple. 

Solana, however, overhears the return of the argument between their twins, the sixth or seventh time this morning alone. And right as Roman goes to handle it, she shakes her head. “I’ve got it.” 

Watching her walk away, Roman allows his gaze to linger on her a little longer. One thing for certain, two things for sure, Solana only gets finer with age. Three kids later, her already curvy body has filled out even more, giving him all the temptation and stripping him of all resolve whenever she tells him she’s ready for another baby.

He’s just counting the days for that request, already accepting the fact that it’ll only be a matter of time before she’s showing him the next sonogram. 

It’s just a continuation of his inability to ever deny her of anything she wants. 

Roman grabs his phone, hearing it vibrate. Most likely an update from—

“Roman!” 

The phone is dropped, and Roman has never moved so quickly, shot up so fast as he sprints off in the direction where Solana went only to find there’s a vacant space, yard void of any and all items, play equipment, greenery, even the pool. 

What remains is the girls sitting on their knees, on the dirt, a piece of clothing between the two of them, but it’s the red dampness of the clothing that makes his heart stop. That makes Roman go dangerously still.

Blood. 

It’s blood. 

Dropping to his knees, the girls are on either side of him, his voice is eerily calm as he asks, “where is she?” Unlike his tone, Roman is anything but calm. Every single vile, evil, violent thought is crossing his mind at just the thought of someone daring to hurt his wife.

To take her.

Leya sniffles to the left of him. “You have to save her, daddy.”  His head snaps to her, confused by her words, confused by the fact that he’s not freaking out more, by the fact that he just somehow knows that Solana has been taken. “She won’t have much time.”

“Mommy can only fight with us for so long.” His attention switches to Lina, her comment leaving him just as perplexed as her twin. “You’re gonna have to trust them, daddy.”

“What?” He breathes. The weight on his chest is intensifying by the fucking second. “I don’t—”

“It’s the only way to save her.” Leyah reaches for his arm, her little mouth formed into a frown. “They’re gonna kill her if you don’t.”

His chest nearly explodes at that one word.

Kill

But, it's when the next statement that leaves their mouths, at the same time, that does him over.

“And they’re gonna kill us too.”

Roman shoots up from the bed, half expecting to find Solana startled awake by his sudden movement, only for him to snap his head to the right to see the normal rise and fall of her body as she continues to sleep. Peaceful. Content. 

Alive.

Roman shuts his eyes and runs his hand through his wavy hair. What the fuck was that?

Taking advantage of the fact that she’s still asleep, Roman is careful with how he peels the blankets off of him. He grabs his phone off the nightstand and makes his way out the room. Down the hall and descending the steps, Roman finds placement outside on the patio, away from it all so he can try to make sense of what just occurred.

The dreams of what feels like some type of alternative reality have become the norm for him. He has them at least a couple times a week, and while he’s still not sure what to make of them, they haven’t really bothered him. Until now.

Because how can a dream–turned–nightmare in which his wife is taken and possibly worse not bother him? Not to mention the strange, almost foreboding warning of his fictional children.

Trust? Roman doesn’t do trust. Shit like that gets people killed in his world.

It has gotten people killed in his world. 

But despite the heaviness of the latter half of the dream, there is one thing that Roman picked up on. That he has this weird almost sentimental reaction to.

Lina.

Leya. 

This is the first time in any of the dreams that names for the girls were used. 

There’s a strange sense of contentment he feels at the thought of it, a sense of clarity provided at no longer dreaming about two nameless children but two children, named and identified. 

Lina and Leya

Pretty names. Roman can admit that, but they feel…..shortened. Like that’s only part of their names. Nicknames. 

It makes him wonder what the full names are.

And before Roman realizes it, he’s grabbing his phone and opening up the notes app.

Lina Reigns

Leya Reigns

He’s not sure why he’s writing them down. He just knows that he wants to.

“Roman?”

Solana stands before him in one of his shirts, arms crossed over her body, a worried expression on her face. 

She doesn’t wait for the usual invite, for Roman’s long arms to extend and settle her on top of his lap. She does that all on her own. Brown eyes searching his face, she pushes back some of his hair. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

His answer is more default than anything, not an intentional deflection but still one nonetheless. “Nothing. Just….can’t sleep.”

“Bullshit.” Solana cussing is such a new experience for him, Roman having to fight back a small smile at how innocent the profanity sounds leaving her mouth. Like it’s too lewd for someone so innocent to be stating. “Talk to me.” She shifts on his lap, asking in a gentle tone, “was it a bad dream?”

Bad is an understatement, but he’s not too keen on letting her know the depth of what it included. Nor does he necessarily want to reflect on it. “Something like that.”

“Roman…..” And right away, without her even needing to say it, he knows. Knows what she doesn’t need to say.

He’s not entirely ready to tell her the extent of these dreams, so he’s intentional with leaving out the not so little fact that it includes them having children and focuses on a part of this latest one. “It was about you.”

She looks taken back by that but still encourages him to continue, her fingers now moving to massage his scalp. “Go on.” But he’s certain that it’s when he looks away, when he focuses on the dark, almost obsidian night sky that obscures the forestry surrounding the house, he knows that she knows. “Oh….”

“Yeah.” Roman doesn't know what else to say. Doesn’t want to say anything else. He doesn’t even really want to fucking talk about this, wants to forget the damn ‘dream’ ever happened, wants to just go back to bed and try to get some fucking sleep.

But, that would be too easy, and rarely in his life are things ever easy.

“Roman, look at me.” Solana’s soft, caring tone pulls him from pessimistic cognitions. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, Ro,” she whispers, bringing her hand to his bearded chin, forcing his unsettled gaze on her. “I promise.”

He wishes that her words provided more comfort. There’s some level, just not a lot, because Roman has had his fair share of nightmares over the years. Most from after that night. Some…..some before. Some he’s never once spoken about and never plans to. Too…..too many bad, difficult, unmanageable emotions attached to them. 

“You’re thinking a lot,” she whispers. The way she’s learned to read him so well feels almost too impossible to be true. He’s always prided himself on being an enigma, but with her? His inscrutable disposition melts away into something transparent and lucid.

He chuckles, but it’s void of any emotion. “I’m always thinking, Sol.” Always thinking. Always planning. Always strategizing. Just always in a state of always.

Solana shakes her head, gently protesting. “Not with me. I don’t….I don’t want you to think when you’re with me….just…..just be.”

Be.

Roman is unsure if he even knows what that is anymore. 

If he ever did in the first place.

And he admits as such. “I don’t….I don’t know how to do that.” A strange, uncharacteristic admission from the man who always has everything together. Because he has to. Because he’s never been granted the space to not have to. 

Solana ghosts her lips over his forehead, his eyes shutting as he holds her a little tighter. “Then we’ll learn together.”

________

Roman has a high sex drive. This is something Solana has always heard through the grapevine, among…..other things. But, her finding out about his sex drive is something she’s experienced herself. Is currently experiencing.

His large, strong hands remain placed and seated on her back, exploring her soft skin that has a soft sheen of sweat that’s built up from the exertion of her body. Her thighs ache a bit as does that sensitive space between her legs, both from the current stretch of him inside her as well as not being entirely recovered from their passionate lovemaking session just hours prior.

Truthfully, Solana hasn’t a clue just how she’s ended up engaged in intimacy yet again, possibly him needing a distraction of sort form his dream. But Roman occasionally sliding his hands to her hips, guiding her up and down, back and forth on his impressive length seems to be just enough, more than enough, to keep her hands on his shoulders, her fingers pressing into his skin, her teeth gnawing into her bottom lip to keep her from alerting his aunt and cousin just what they’re doing this fine early morning.

But, it’s that thought that has her trying to express said concern, to share the slight level of guilt she feels at doing this under his aunt’s roof. It feels almost….disrespectful? And maybe that’s too strong of a word. Regardless, she just has a feeling about it. 

“Roman…..” Solana hates that his name on her lips is more carnal than anything, a moan, essentially. Far from what she needs. Still, she pushes through. “We—we can’t—”

His deep chuckle under her followed by another slight lift of her body as he continues to fill her, physically and figuratively, “can’t what?”

Damn. It’s so hard to resist the devil when he makes the sin feel this good. “Th—this.” She’s not sure she’s even making any sense right now. “It’s—disresp—shit.” Roman is forever adroit, knowing just what to do and how to do it, because one minute he’s licking his bottom lip, the next minute his mouth is latched onto her breast, sucking on her areola in a way that makes it exponentially more difficult to not scream her pleasure from here to kingdom come.

“Ro….” Her hand shifts to the back of his head, his soft, wave locks intertwined in her fingers as Solana manages to keep her steady pace rocking atop of him. He’s so deep inside of her, reaching her stomach it damn near feels like. “Oh my god.” Head thrown back from the erotic of it all, a deep chuckle leaves his talented mouth as he detaches and switches to kissing along the swell of her heavy breast.

“You really wanna deny me this?” His voice is both teasing and curious, hands massaging her sides, gently helping her continue to ride him. “Could watch you and this beautiful body ride me for the rest of fucking time….”

Solana seems to hone in on two words. Beautiful body. She still somewhat struggles to wrap her head around just how a man who looks like Roman could be so enamored with her physically. Even with all the scars, the cellulite, the stretch marks, the fat, he looks at her like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He makes her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. It’s overwhelming and fills her with so much love, Solana bringing her hands to his bearded face for a sensual kiss to express that love and adoration.

Kissing Roman is also moving its way up her list of favorite things to do. A list that almost entirely includes him, because as much as he indicates and even shares how he can’t get enough of her, she feels the absolute same way about him.

Roman deepens the kiss, Solana loving the feel of their chests pressed together, how he almost protectively clutches her close to him. They hold onto each other almost, so deeply entwined, two troubled souls who somehow found each other in the midst of chaos and sorrow. A joint healing of sorts.

Not even half an hour later, both having found their release, Solana lays on his chest, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns of the tattoos that’s etched onto his chest, one of her favorite things to do when they’re together like this. She loves everything about Roman, his body included, but his tattoos hold a special place for her. She knows it’s part of his cultural background, but a large part of her would guess that the placement was intentional. The ink on his arms to help shield bad memories, a night of unfathomable loss and trauma.

She knows what that’s like. Knows what it’s like to carry around those scars. Another area where they can relate, shared loss that they can find comfort for, in each other.

Eager for her spent body to be one with his, she moves even closer, a small smile on her face when he tugs her nearer and kisses the top of her head. His affection with her always adds yet another layer of safety and protection she feels with him.

Feelings she hasn’t had in forever. If ever.

“I wanna ask you something, but if it’s triggering for you, then we dead it, okay?” Solana is obviously taken back by his statement, and while there’s a small chunk of her nervous about what he’s about to ask, she doesn’t want to shut him down.

Eyes focused on the window beside the bed that unveils the rising sun and subsequent kaleidoscope of dawn colors that paint the sky, she answers, “okay.”

“How were you mentally on our wedding day?”

Solana frowns. That’s the last question she expected to leave his mouth, but the more she thinks about it, thinks about the worksheets Gail had told her she showed Roman, Solana can almost bet she recalls one of those questions asking about the last time she felt suicidal prior to her attempt.

And she’d answered honestly.

On her wedding day.

Something she’s almost certain he knows and is referring to. In a slightly indirect way. To avoid being too……raw. “Roman—” She doesn’t quite know how to address this, how to explain it in a way that makes sense to him but is also not too heavy for her. “I—there was just….there was a lot going on.”

“Because of me.” Her eyes shut. She hates the tone of his voice. Low and subdued. Like he feels guilty about something, like he did something wrong. “Because I sped everything up without actually giving you time to….” Roman takes a deep breath, and she opens her eyes to look up at him. “If I had known—“

Solana sits up and brings her hand to his face. “But—but you didn’t—” She wets her lips, hating that he seems to feel somehow responsible for years worth of trauma that brought her to that place mentally. Not him. “I—I struggled for years with those thoughts, and it was just…..it was a combination of things. I was scared and confused, but mostly because of the plan and what they wanted me to do. I hadn’t eaten in days. I just…..it wasn’t your fault.” She kisses him, lips hovering over his as she whispers, “at the time….it felt like the saddest day of my life, but—it was the best, Roman. I got you….and that’s all I need.” She moves to lay on top of him, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “Te amo, mi amor.”

He still sounds guilty. "But, it's not the wedding you deserved."

"I don't care about that, baby." She moves her hand to his arm, gently massaging up and down his bicep. “Roman, I don’t—I don’t want you worrying about me. I’m better, not all the way, but I’m safe, and I want you to focus on you.” And she means that with everything in her. He puts so much into everything else. It’s beyond time he shifts some of that focus onto himself. 

“Solana—”

“I mean it,” she cuts him off, a hint of determination and borderline assertiveness present, something that takes them both by surprise. Truly. “Healing is…hard work, but it’s….it’s worth it. And you deserve it just as much as I do.” A thought crosses her mind, prompting her to share it with him. “Photography.”

He looks skeptical. “What about it?”

“I want you to start doing it more. You’re good at it, and it…..you looked happy doing it.” Because he is. Because there’s so many things that Roman is good at that he has to do. She wants him to have something that he gets to do.

“I was happy because I was with you,” he corrects. It’s kind but also not entirely true.

“It was more than that, Ro,” she counters softly. “If you want….you….you can take pictures of me.” In taking and sharing occasional selfies of herself while away from Roman, that discomfort  has waned ever so slightly with having her picture taken. Enough to have her willing to be his muse, if that's what it takes.

Roman chuckles underneath her, his hand on the small of her back. “You know I can’t say no to you, right?” Solana giggles, pleased mostly at his less solemn tone, at his agreement, at what type of relief it could provide to him. Even if they both know it’s something that obviously can’t happen until she’s done with treatment. Regardless, it’s something, and that’s all that matters.

But, it’s when Solana settles back on top of him, head on his chest that she feels it. Feels his semi-hardened length against her, prompting her to gasp.

They just….

Confused, she looks at him, brows furrowed. “How are you……do—do you have an addiction?”

Roman’s laugh is deep and makes her smile. A rarity but one she hopes to one day to increase the frequency of. “To sex? Shit, maybe.” She’d say definitely given the fact that they’ve already gone three rounds, and yet he’s still looking at her like that. “To you?” Solana’s breath is sharp as he carefully switches their position so that he’s hovering over her. “Absolutely.”

“Roman….” His mouth is already on the move, trailing down and in between the valley of her breast. “I’m—I’m sore.” And this time, it’s to the point where she can’t afford to bypass it, to push past it, even if there’s a small part of her that isn’t entirely opposed. That feels an almost…..excitement at being with him again in that way.

Even if it will be the fourth time in less than 24hrs. Not even 12. 

“I know.” And yet as he continues downward, Solana realizes he already knows this and is well aware of this fact. Hence him desiring an equally desirable alternative. “But, it’s like you said, baby….” She moans when he braces his big hands on her hips, his mouth kissing her inner thighs, thick fingers separating her swollen, tender lower lips. “I’m addicted.”

________

By the time Solana convinces Roman that they can’t spend the rest of the day locked in his bedroom, thrusted in the throes of sweet intimacy, it’s nearing 11am, and Fetu and Ava have already consumed their breakfast, discussing what they’ll have for lunch. 

Solana walks in first, wearing a warm smile aimed toward the two women, one of which she’s now seeing for the first time.

Ava stands up from the kitchen table and walks over with a small smirk. “My cousin finally got off you, huh?”

Roman rolls his eyes, muttering, “fuck off, Ava.”

Solana blushes. Ava is tall, only a few inches shorter than Roman with a thin build but soft curves. Her onyx black hair is shoulder length, and her smile and brown eyes give away her kinship to Roman. Even Fetu. They all look related. 

“It’s—umm, nice to meet you.” Solana is taken back a bit when Ava hugs her. It’s so interesting to her how the women in Roman’s family are so physically affectionate. It seems almost ironic given just who their family is. The way the word Bloodline strikes fear in the hearts of even the strongest. “I’m Sol—”

“Solana,” Ava laughs, stepping back. “I know. Heard a lot about you, and like I said last night, I’m sorry you got stuck marrying big ears over here.”

Roman is quick with it, retorting back before he downs the coffee he just brewed, “not as big as that big ass forehead.”

“Children. Literal children.” Fetu shakes her head, looking over at Solana. “Do you see what I have to deal with? Why I need you Solana?” She gestures with her thumb, “if this damn disease doesn’t kill me first, Dopey and Tyra Banks over here damn sure will.”

At that, both Roman and Ava look slightly irritated. “Don’t talk like that, Uso o le tinā.” She glares at Roman, lifting up her middle finger to flip him off. “Who else is going to keep me from killing our Tribal Chief?”

Roman scoffs, big shoulders lifting as he shakes his head. He sounds and looks so amused at just the thought of it. “You can certainly try.”

Ava sucks her teeth, angling her body towards him. “Don’t tempt me, asshole.”

Roman smirks, looking at her over his mug. “You know I love a good fight.”

“I’m about to kill both of you if you don’t shut the hell up!” Fetu snaps, Solana looking over to see she’s holding her slipper in her hand. “Embarrassing me in front of my friend, sweet Solana.”

“It’s—it’s okay,” Solana cuts in, unable to contain her smile. She’s not used to seeing Roman like this, so…..relaxed, almost…..almost like he’s at peace. She likes it.

She likes it a lot. 

“It is not.” Fetu drops her slipper back on the ground, shaking her head. “Since both of you have so much to say and clearly energy to expel, you can handle the wood in the back that needs to be chopped up?” Solana’s confusion must be evident as Fetu gestures to the living room. “Wood burning fireplace. I don’t like that new shit.”

“You mean the safest shit?” Roman mutters. 

Ava shakes her head, whispering to Solana. “Our aunt can be a little……old fashioned.” Solana says nothing, seeing no issue. With everything she’s been through, she truly deserves whatever she wants, in Solana’s opinion. “Roman’s been trying to convince her to let him replace it with an electric one for years.”

“And my answer will keep being no!” Fetu calls out, clearly eavesdropping. “Now, I mean it, I want that wood chopped. Both of you.”

Roman scowls. “I don’t need her help.”

Ava glares in his direction. “And I don’t need help from Samoan He-Man over here.”

“I–I thought you guys actually liked each other?” Solana intended to keep that in her head, but it somehow bypassed her speech defenses. Immediately, she feels bad, going the recompense route. “I didn’t mean—”

“They do,” Fetu answers, sharing. “It depends on the day. Today is just clearly not one of those days.” She plasters on a sickeningly sweet smile. “Now get to it, before I embarrass both of you.”

It’s slightly comical to Solana how both people, formidable in their own right, fold so easily at the direction of this older woman. Solana goes to fix her late breakfast along with Roman, the two sharing it at the table along with Ava and Fetu until it's time for them to depart and get started on their joint task. 

That leaves Solana with Fetu, a wonderful arrangement because it allows her time to get to know the woman who means so much to Roman better.

And that is done in a way Solana didn't expect, because she ends up in Fetu’s room, a large bin that Solana pulled from her closet exposing a world of welcomed surprises. 

Solana is overcome with an abundance of photos, a mixture of dated polaroids' and the type of photos one got developed at a kiosk or drugstore back in the day. She’d like to say that they’re photos of smiling, happy faces, but that would be a lie. Many of them are clearly of people taken off guard by a camera in their face. 

One in particular captures her attention, Solana reaching for the polaroid that shows a tall, handsome man. Sharp facial features with an almost stoic expression. Familiar. Very familiar. 

“Is this…..”

Fetu chuckles, nodding, “it is.” There’s a sadness both in her gaze as well as her voice. “He looks so much like him….”

Solana swallows. She agrees. Roman shares a striking resemblance with his father. It makes her wonder if they have similar personalities as well, but another photo steals her focus. A tiny gasp leaves her mouth as a small smile grows. “That’s—”

Fetu also laughs, nodding and reaching for the photo, handing it to Solana. “You can tell by the big ears.” Solana giggles, holding the photo and staring with borderline amazement at Roman when he was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7 years old, so young, so innocent looking, but she knows better. Knows that his smile in the photo was probably short lived. 

“I had taken him and the twins to the water park. They had so much fun that day.” One glance at Fetu, and Solana can see she’s reflecting back and mentally reliving that day. “I did my best to give him as much of a normal childhood as possible.”

Solana is quiet, her own sadness seeping in at the depressing reality that as much as she didn’t have much of a childhood, neither did he.

He never stood a chance. 

“Look at this one.” Fetu reaches her another photo. It’s Roman, but it doesn’t look like him. It’s of him as a child, looking far too serious for a boy no more than 8 or 9 years–old.

Studying the photo a bit more, Solana shares with all honesty, “he looks…..little?”

Fetu laughs. “Because he was.” Solana gasps quietly, as the woman explains. “Believe it or not, that big, strong husband of yours was the runt of his siblings. He was small for his age, and it always bothered him.” Solana has a hard time conceptualizing any part of roman being small. Fetu's lips slip into a small, forlorn smile. “I always knew he would be something special. I just—I wish it could have happened differently.”

Solana says nothing, already knowing what she’s referring to. What she doesn’t need to say.  “He’s…..he’s a good man.”

“He’s a better man with you.” Fetu places a comforting hand on Solana’s knee. “You are good for him, child, and I think he’s good for you too.”

“He’s the best,” Solana murmurs, emotion building at just the thought of the man who’s completely changed her life around. For the better. “He’s—he’s everything to me.”

And even that is putting it lightly, fails to fully encapsulate just what Roman means to her. What he is to her. 

Fetu’s grin shifts into something appreciative. “You know….I always prayed he would find someone before I closed my eyes. Someone he could love and who would love him back the way he deserves. The way anyone deserves.” Solana’s stomach coils a bit, a strange foreboding sense coming over her. “You’ve given this old woman a tremendous amount of peace, and for that, Solana, I cannot thank you enough.”

It’s been relatively easy to pick up on how close Roman is to his aunt, largely due to his own vulnerable worlds. She’s the closest thing he has left of a mother, and the thought of her no longer being here….

No.

Roman can’t lose anyone else.

Especially Fetu.

“Solana.” Pulled from her thoughts, Solana looks down to see that Fetu has moved their hands so that Solana’s palm is outstretched. “I need you to do something for me, but I need it to stay between us for now.”

And just like that, goosebumps sprout all across her arms. “You—you don’t want me to tell Roman?”

Fetu shakes her head, Solana looking down when she places a white, sealed envelope in her hand. “I need you to give this to him when the time is right.”

Questions. Solana is full of them. What is contained within this envelope, and why is Fetu giving it to her and not Roman? And why can’t he know? Just so many questions, but for some reason, Solana can only settle on one to ask.

“How—how will I know when the time is right?”

There’s despondency in the older woman’s eyes that contrasts her smile. “You will.”

Something about this rubs Solana the wrong way, and not in a bad manner, per se. Just something very heavy. Very sad. “Fetu, what—”

“Enough of all this sentimental shit.” Fetu clears her throat and wipes at her eyes, changing subjects as she goes on about something Solana can only partially pay attention to. There’s a bit of envy there. Envy at how she can carry on like nothing just happened. 

If only Solana could do the same.

________

The conversation with Fetu is something that weighs heavy on her chest, something she wants to inquire more about from her husband’s aunt but knows won’t give her the answers she’s looking for. It’s why the younger woman is grateful for a brief respite, one that she hopes will serve as a much needed distraction.

Solana settles herself onto the chair outside, looking over her shoulder to make sure the door is closed. 

She props the phone up against the back of the chair and adjusts her top just as the screen fills with smiling faces.

“Solana!” She smiles at Mickie’s excited greeting. “Oh my god, I told them he didn’t kidnap you!”

Solana giggles and shakes her head, frowning a bit as she explains, “no, I’m—I’m sorry. We….we had to leave suddenly.” That’s a nice way to put it. To refer to the way that Roman escorted and signed her out of the facility without her having a chance to explain to her newfound friends what was going on.

And unlike herself, Mickie, Cam, and Melina don’t have mafia head husbands who are allowed to break and stretch the rules for her the way Roman does. So they don’t have their phones at all times with unlimited and unmonitored usage. 

It’s why Solana has made the active effort to break away and call them during the slot of time she knows they’re allowed phone time.

Melina moves into the frame of the phone camera asking, “are you okay?”

An easy answer. “I am now.” Because had they asked just slightly over twenty-four hours ago, her answer would have been very different. “Just needed to handle something, but I’ll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon.” Roman shared they would have to get on the road tomorrow morning, something she could tell he wasn’t happy about. He clearly enjoys being here. Enjoys the freedom here. It’s a palpable thing, and she loves it. She loves seeing how at peace he seems in this safe space.

“Good,” Melina nods, clearly pleased by this. She smirks, “we miss you.”

Cam scoots closer so she can share, “it’s boring without our residential artsy bae.”

Mickie gasps, snatching the phone, sharing with an excited tone, “And Paxley had a total breakdown, ripped the head off her dolls and everything. Apparently her girlfriend broke up with her.” It’s clear she’s trying to hold back an amused smile. “It was actually kind of funny.”

Cam sucks her teeth and shoves the woman next to her. “Mickie, please.” She directs her focus back to Solana, adding, “Dr. S had to have her sedated and everything.”

Solan frowns. She knows what that’s like and wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Melina snatches the phone away, expression shifting into something almost concerned. “You’re gonna finish out the program, right?”

“I am.” It’s something Solana has actually thought about since Roman’s confession. She hates that he’s been struggling, but what she hates even more is that she hasn’t and won’t be home to help him in the way that he deserves. Maybe even needs. But, she also knows that she’s not exactly where she would like to be yet. Getting there. But not yet.

And she wants to be at her best when she comes home. Roman deserves that much. But, so does she.

So, as much as a part of her would like to come home now, she knows that what is best is ultimately her finishing out her treatment. 

Melina looks relieved, offering a small smile. “Good.” 

Solana picks up on it, the unspoken thing hidden behind her question. “What is it?”

And the frown is back, Melina sharing in a solemn tone, “there…..there are whispers that the facility is shutting down at the end of the year. Something about lack of funding.”

‘What?” Solana didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t that. “But—but it….what about….what about people who need help?”

Cam scoffs, almost bitterly. “Three steps forward. Eight steps back.” Solana feels for her the most. She knows this is the second time Cameron has entered residential treatment at the very facility where the four women seem to be finding so much healing. 

Mickie shrugs. “There are other treatment places…..none that are reasonably close and for women only.” Solana winces at that, at the almost bitterness that laces her tone at the end of the sentence. Being in a place to heal surrounded by women only truly makes the biggest difference when tackling sexual trauma. 

Trauma caused by men.

“I heard Dr. Stratus is seeing if she can get another grant or investor, but….” Cam shakes her head. “I don’t think we should hold our breath.”

Melina rolls her eyes. “Especially with how much money she probably needs to keep this place running. Has to be in the millions.” She smirks, sarcastically remarking, “and you know investors are just dying to put all their sweet money into a bunch of unstable bitches.” 

Solana’s frown deepens. She wasn’t expecting to hear this news. Definitely didn’t expect it to have her heart feel so heavy at this update. It almost seems silly, like she shouldn’t be so sad about a place closing that she only ever heard about a month ago, that she plans to never once again visit and be entered into.

It was a one time program that’s clearly serving its purpose.

And maybe that’s the thing that makes her sad. To know how helpful its been for her, a type of healing occurring she never thought possible. Healing that she knows so many more people need and will need. So many women.

Melina manages a grin that doesn’t meet her eyes. “Well, we started this together, at least we’ll get to finish it together.” And Solana gets it, understands why Melina wanted to see if she’s coming back. Because if this is the last time they’re all in the same setting, as strange a setting as it is, she wants it to be something they can do together.

“And we can still connect once we’re out of the hammer,” Mickie suggests with the biggest, brightest smile, “assuming we don’t get locked up again.”

Solana can’t help but to laugh. Mickie is a hoot, but she never fails to put a smile on her face. 

They all do.

And in some strange connection that she doesn’t quite understand, the smile and sisterhood of it all, it brings about a thought, spurs an idea that she otherwise would never consider. It’s a massive ask, much beyond a favor, the biggest and grandest thing she could ever ask for.

And yet she’s going to do it.

Going to ask it.

Going to ask him.

________

“Get the hell away from me!”

It’s the first thing Solana hears when her eyes snap open. The second thing she notices is the absence of a set of strong arms around her or the equally strong chest she was laying her head on when she fell asleep. Confused, Solana rubs at her eyes and tenses at the next sound to make its way to her hearing.

“Go away!”

It’s this second time around that Solana realizes she recognizes the voice, and it has her hopping out of bed and heading for the door.

“Uso o le tinā, please, it’s me, Ava and Roman—” Solan’s concern grows to match her confusion as she follows the source of the voices, having a good idea of what's happening without even needing to see it. “Just let us—”

“I don’t know who you are! Help!”

Solana finds the three of them in the living room, the sight similar to what she had already guesstimated. Ava and Roman are on opposite sides, both wearing pained, concerned expressions, focused on Fetu who’s in the middle of the room, in her robe, crying, a knife in her hand, arm stretched out toward them. However, Solana focuses on the red liquid pooling on the handle of the knife. Fetu is cut, most likely a self-caused injury when she went for the knife. 

Solana’s stomach drops. She’s clearly in the midst of an episode, unaware of who she is, who they are. And it breaks her heart. The amount of pure fear and terror in her face toward the two people who would no doubt lay down their lives for her.

Solana takes a step forward, and Fetu’s frantic eyes land on her, shifting into something almost relieved. “Please—you can help me!” 

Roman is the first to pull his attention away from Fetu, focusing on Solana who can so clearly see the distress in his eyes. How difficult this situation has to be, to see her like this and not be able to do anything. 

He reaches his arm, clearly trying to keep her back. “Sol, go back—”

“No!” Fetu cries out, bringing both husband and wife’s gaze onto her. Solana swallows as Fetu begins to cry again, shaking finger pointing back and forth between Roman and Ava. “They—they want to take me!” Her crying intensifies, Solana slowly starting to make her way toward the older woman, ignoring Roman’s subtle attempt to keep her away. “Please—please don’t let them hurt me.”

Fetu’s pleading breaks Solana’s heart and would bring tears to her own eyes if not for the fact that she’s focused solely on the scene before her. “I—I’ll help you, okay?” Solana doesn’t take her eyes off Fetu, mindful of any sudden action she could take, movement that could potentially and unintentionally injure her. “I’m—I’m Solana.” She introduces, offering a warm smile when she’s closer, very much aware of Roman and Ava whose eyes are burning into her back. “Can you—can you tell me your name?”

Fetu seems to try to think for a moment, her face painted in terror, only to shake her head. “I—I can’t.”

“It’s okay,” Solana immediately reassures, tensing a bit when she feels movement behind her, Ava and Roman trying again to approach, which only prompts her to hurriedly wave her arm to shoo them back. To tell them to leave without actually telling them to leave. “Well, I’m gonna help you, okay?”

She understands they just want to help, but their attempts to help will only exacerbate the situation. Fetu doesn’t recognize them, sees them as threats. But for herself, that is not the case. Thus, Solana needs them away to deescalate the situation. 

Solana is relieved when she’s finally able to stand directly in front of Fetu, gently reaching to move some hair out of her face. “It’s okay. You can trust me. I won’t hurt you.” The words seem to be registering, Solana gesturing to Fetu’s cut hand. “Looks like you hurt yourself.” She smiles warmly, gently, and patiently. “How about I clean that up for you and then maybe we can have some tea? Hmm?”

Standing in front of Fetu, obscuring her vision of the niece and nephew her disease has her convinced are strangers, Solana briefly turns around, catching both of their gazes. “Go.” She mouths it, eyes pleading in a way her voice cannot. “I’ve got her.”

Both look torn, Roman especially, but when Fetu drops the knife and reaches for Solana’s arm, clutching tightly, both indifferent to the blood that’s now stained on Solana’s skin, it seems to send a message that she is very much in good hands.

Solana gives the cousins a nod and refocuses her attention on the elder woman. “It’s okay,” she comforts, offering a warm smile as she moves her arm around her, pleased to see that the other two have left. 

It’s for the best. 

Solana is able to escort her into the kitchen and pacify her enough to get her seated at the kitchen table while she pulls out the medical kit under the kitchen sink. 

“Jealous.” Solana turns around, necessarily supplies in hand as she faces Fetu. “I—I told Nakoa we couldn’t trust him.” The next fit of crying returns as she shakes her head, injured hand formed into a fist that she hits on her thigh repeatedly. “I told him!”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Solana drops to her knees in front of Fetu, placing the supplies on the floor as she reaches for her hand, trying to stop her from further injuring herself. “It’s okay. I know—I know you did.”

Solana, in fact does not know, has no idea who this Nakoa person is nor the other unnamed man. Nor does she necessarily care very much right now to know. She just knows that her number one priority is keeping Roman’s aunt as calm and stable in this position as possible.

“He was…..he was jealous. Always jealous.”

“I know.” Solana nods, determined to not invalidate her, even if she’s making no sense. “Is it okay if I wrap up your hand?”

Fetu seems to take a second to think about it, eventually nodding. “Y–yes.”

Pleased at this acquiescence, Solana finds herself humming and singing softly as she works to clean, disinfect, and tend to Fetu’s wound. Fetu, who, in a much calmer voice comments, “you—you have a pretty voice.”

Solana’s smile is warm. “Thank you.” She’s happy it worked, worked to settle some of Fetu’s fear and anxiety. “My mother used to sing me to sleep.”

“Your…..mother……” Her voice is distant, as if she’s trying to put the pieces together. “I—I was never a…..mother.” She swallows, opening and closing her mouth a couple times before she speaks again. “Are you—are you a mother?”

A question she’s been asked twice now. Each time bringing up a sense of sadness. “N—n–not yet.” 

Fetu makes a sound, head tilting a bit as Solana clears her throat of the emotion that’s suddenly built up. “You will be.” The younger woman stills, lifting her eyes to meet those of Fetu’s that suddenly seem so knowing and insightful. “Nakoa….he…..he will be a good dad.”

Again, Solana is confused and suddenly a bit more curious about who this person is. And what connection he has, or Fetu thinks, he has to her. Regardless, she just continues to work seamlessly transitioning into her next task, fixing the older woman a warm cup of tea.

Solana sits silently in the chair next to Fetu, stifling a yawn as she catches a glance at the time on the microwave. 4:45am.

Her mind gravitates to Roman and Ava. Ava more than Roman. How often does she have to deal with these sorts of episodes? Roman as well, but with Ava living here with Fetu, surely, she has to face them more.

It makes her heart heavy. 

And it stays that way even as Fetu finishes her tea and asks to go “lay down.” Solana holds her arm, carefully helping her up the stairs and into her bedroom. She’s pleased when Fetu asks her to braid her hair for her, Solana feeling a sense of nostalgia, reminiscing on times when she was younger and her mother would braid her hair before bed. 

Some of her fondest memories with her mom.

Solana is helping Fetu get settled in bed when the older woman asks in an almost childlike voice. “Will you—will you stay with me until…..until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.” Gently caressing her forehead, she gives a comforting smile and moves to grab the chair against the closest wall. Dragging it to the side of the bed, Solana has barely sat down when Fetu reaches for Solana’s arm, her mouth shifting back and forth from a smile and frown as she clearly struggles to verbalize whatever she wants to say. “Promise me…..promise me you’ll look out for him.” Solana herself is frowning, confused by just what she’s asking. “Promise me you’ll stay with Nakoa.”

That name again. It confuses her just as much as it did the last time it was used. 

Fetu continues, shaking her head. “I can’t—I can’t walk out the door without—without knowing he’ll be okay.” There’s something about her statement and the one that follows that makes it click for Solana. That helps her to realize who Nakoa really is. “I—I left him all alone o–once. I—I can’t do it again.”

Roman

Fetu is talking about Roman and something else that Solana can’t even bring herself to verbalize, the thought itself devastating enough.

“I’m not going to leave him,” Solana vows, taking Fetu’s hand in hers, conjoining them. “And neither are you.” Tears fill her eyes as she reiterates, “he needs both of us.” Because he does. Solana knows and believes that with everything in her. The humanity and kindness Roman still holds is solely because of the woman before her. Solana has just so happened to build upon it. “And besides….you’ve gotta be here when we finally have a child. You’re…..you’re the closest thing he or she will have to a grandmother.”

Because it’s true. Because Solana wants her and Roman’s child to have the loving, supportive family that both of them were deprived of, and for more than just a short period of their life. It’s another vow on her part. 

To do better.

To be better.

“A child…..” Fetu trails off, loosening her grip on Solana’s arm, settling hers at the side of her body. “Yes….soon….soon.”

Solana can’t take her gaze away from Fetu, studying her face from the moment her eyes flutter shut to when the steady rise and fall of her chest indicates a much deserved peaceful sleep. Solana is absolutely prepared to stay in that chair the entire night, by Fetu’s side, no protest whatsoever. 

But, it’s not even forty five minutes into Fetu’s slumber that the bedroom door is slowly opened, Ava clearly checking that her aunt is sleep before she walks in and kneels at Solana’s side. “You can go. I’ll—I’ll stay with her.”

Solana looks at the woman, the red, puffy eyes that she knows all too well. She shakes her head, placing a hand on her shoulder. “No. You….you get some sleep. I don’t mind.”

Ava makes a sound, her nose turning up ever so slightly. She’s staring at Fetu. “It’s so—it’s hard seeing her like this, ya know? I—I just want to help, but I can’t—” Solana shakes her head, as Ava closes her eyes, clearly trying to hold back tears. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Again, Solana knows grief and heartache better than anyone. “She loves you. And in her heart, she knows who you are….she always will.”

Ava is visibly moved by the kind words, nodding and wiping at her eyes. “Thank you, Solana.” She sniffles, laughing with a small scoff. “You’re way too good for him.” Solana smiles. Not a chance. “Please….I’d prefer to sit with her, if….if that’s okay?”

Solana has no room or place to deny Ava anything, especially this. She just didn’t want her to feel like she had to. But hearing her reason, she’s more than happy to get up. “Of course.”

Solana is by the door when she stops and calls out Ava’s name, waiting for the woman to look at her as she asks, “who—who was Nakoa?”

Ava’s shoulders drop, the change in her disposition evident as she answers in a sad tone. “That was my uncle......Roman’s dad.”

Solana’s eyes shut, her mind gravitating back to the picture she saw just earlier today. Of course. Nodding, she reminds, “if you need anything—”

“I know.”

A final shared smile among the women, and Solana quietly closes the door. Making her way back to Roman’s bedroom, she half expects to find him up, pacing, wearing a hole into the floor. She instead is met with the complete opposite: room dark and Roman’s big body sprawled across the bed. He’s on his back, laying on top of the blankets. It’s obvious he fell asleep while doing that waiting she correctly called before even entering the room. 

Shutting the door, Solana moves over to the bed, careful movements helping her position her body so she’s tucked next to him. Her arm over his stomach, and her head on his chest. 

Despite her carefulness, it’s not even a full two minutes before he’s stirred awake. 

“Shhh. It’s just me.” She whispers, kissing his bearded jaw. Even in the darkness of the room, she can still slightly make out his features as he looks down at her. 

“Fuck.” His voice is deep with the slumber he so desperately needs so much more of. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“Good. You need that.” He’s been nonstop the past couple days, not to mention the fact that they have to be up in a couple hours to get back on the road. Solana makes a quick mental note to see if he’ll let her drive back. Even if just for a portion. “Go back to sle—”

“Fetu—” 

Solana feels his body tense underneath her, prompting her to soothingly move her hand across his abdomen. “She’s okay now. Sleep. Ava is sitting with her.”

He says nothing, but she watches the way he lets his head fall back against the mattress. “I’m—I’m sorry you had to see that. I didn’t—”

“I’m not.” Because she’s not. And truth be told, what occurred tonight rests devastatingly low on the list of worst things she’s ever experienced. “I’m glad I could help her. Help you guys.”

Roman hesitates before asking in a thick voice. “How did you….”

“My mom worked at a nursing home when she was in medical school. She used to tell me about her patients with Alzheimer's. How she had to help them. She used to write about it in her journals too.” Not to mention random information Solana has read and learned over the years in her vast pursuit of acquiring medical knowledge after being denied the chance to go to college and pursue her nursing dreams. “She just….she needed to feel safe. I know what that’s like.”

Again, Roman is silent for a couple minutes, Solana eventually feeling him tug her closer, her eyes shutting when he kisses her forehead.  

“Thank you.” There’s so much held behind those two words, an immense amount of appreciation and love that’s felt on such a palpable level. “I love you.”

She could never tire of hearing him say that. Ever. “I love you, too.”

Today was a lot, in so many different ways, Solana feeling perplexed by the many happenings. The letter from Fetu. Fetu’s maybe incoherent, or not so incoherent, warning about someone being jealous. Her almost ominous way of speaking about herself, about her future.

It was just…..a lot. 

And Solana knows there’s so much to digest and try to make sense of. Just not tonight.

Tonight she just wants to fall asleep in the arms of her husband.

Tomorrow, and whatever it entails, can come later. 

[maculategiraffe]

when I was a kid there was a nursery rhyme in my mother goose book that went

cross-patch, draw the latch,

sit by the fire and spin.

take a cup, drink it up,

then call the neighbors in.

and in little women there's a line where jo is being snippy with aunt march and aunt march's parrot says "cross-patch, draw the latch, sit by the fire and spin!" and aunt march says "most observing bird"

which is hilarious and also gives me to understand that the nursery rhyme was once used to comment when someone was being bitchy (or "cross"). like the nineteenth century version of "why don't you have some bread and maybe you'll calm down"

but like it's actually great advice for if you find yourself in a snappy mood. draw the latch / lock the door / put your phone in airplane mode, get comfy, do something constructive and mindless with your hands, drink some water or tea or beverage of choice. after that you can declare yourself fit for company again