#i made the color scheme more monotone towards the end. you can have that symbolize something if you want

[felixfeliciswriterblog]

A not so simple Valentine’s Day

Word count: 4954

Title: A not so simple Valentine’s Day

Warnings: Some sexual situations, but nothing overly graphic. In fact, it is a mostly fluffy fic.

Characters: Severus Snape and Skyrah Snape (his wife. She also happens to be Voldie’s daughter *shrugs*) Skyrah’s half-sister (they don’t share the same father) makes a small appearance.

Notes: This is a snippet from my fic "It’s not that simple” you can find on AO3 and on FF.net. "A not so simple Valentine’s Day” happens during Harry’s fifth year, a few weeks after finding out about the Snapes are expecting a baby boy. If you don’t like reading fics on tumblr, you can find this Valentine’s Day!one-shot on AO3 or on FF.net. 

Rating: "It’s not that simple” is rated M. However, this piece could be considered T.

Enjoy!

It was that that irksome time of the year again that flooded the Great Hall with pinkish and reddish colors, hearts, teddy bears and chocolates. Nauseating. Severus would turn everything black and replace the heart symbols for books, the teddy bears for bats (real ones, mind you?) and the chocolates for coffee (black, no sugar or milk)…

If it wasn’t for Albus’s disapproving glance, that is.

That old fool always seemed to know what was going on in Severus’s mind (and heart) better than Voldemort ever would.

The love cards, the badly written poems, the poorly wrapped gifts, the flowers, the hearts drawn on wrinkled pieces of parchment… Severus felt obliged to confiscate them all when Albus was not lurking around, sneering how preposterous the tradition was. The tears shed by a few of those students affected him not, if only, they made him scowl deeper and wish St.  Valentine’s Day would be over sooner rather than later.

It was exhausting.

The closer to February 14th, the wilder the students’ hormones turned. Direct proportionality, Severus called it. Behind every corner, he caught students with their tongues down each other’s throat. Every Quidditch supplies’ closet he found on his way to the dungeons was bound to hide a copulating couple. In Potions class, students made goo-goo eyes to whom they thought would be their eternal infatuation, consequently increasing the risk to ruin the potions they were brewing and triggering an explosion. To make matters worse, a few reckless students dared to ask him for love potions. Some were more ‘subtle’ and asked him to teach them in class. No matter their strategy, they ended with detention and a significant deduction of House points.

Yes, St.  Valentine’s Day was nothing more than a nightmare, a Feast some rich people had invented to become even richer. It was an idiotic commercialistic holiday that reduced couples to convey meaningless “I love you” and “Be mine” messages.

That had always been Severus’s opinion on the matter. The problem was his wife did not look disgusted by Valentine’s Day. She avoided passing by the Quidditch supplies’ closets. She told the snogging students she encountered in the corridors to go to class if they didn’t want to lose House points – points she would have deducted any other time of the year but which were reduced to hollow threats in February. No detentions were given, either. She smiled when she caught students giving each other flowers or chocolates… If she spotted a student writing the name of their crush inside hearts repeatedly on the pages of a book, she subtly gave them some parchment and tilted her head towards it, glancing meaningfully at the ruined pages of the book. Taking the hint, the student cleaned the pages with a spell and kept on with their sudden artistic leanings in the new parchment. And then there was her reaction to irresponsible dunderheads asking for the impossible…

“Who was it?” she asked after he banged the door of their chambers shut, three days before the Feast.

“Miss Brown.”

“Lavender? What did she want?” she asked, leaving the History book she was reading on the arm of the leather sofa she was sitting on.

“A love potion,” he said, gnashing his teeth.

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”

“Well, using a love potion is wrong.”

‘Wrong’ fell short. Love potions were banned at Hogwarts, even if some brats like Lavender Brown failed to remember that.

“But,” Skyrah continued, ignoring her husband’s snort. “I must admit it is sweet…. And sad. Asking the bat of the dungeons for a love potion takes courage. She is willing to go through this just to feel loved on Valentine’s Day.”

“True love can’t be created by artificial means. In fact, they shouldn’t be called love potions. Obsessive potions is a more adequate name. True love would never come out of them, not even from Amortentia. Even if she found a way to slip some love potion into her love interest’s food, she wouldn’t feel loved. Her actions would not be sweet but sickening.”

He knew it too well. Lily didn’t love him back after he slipped some into her glass of water, not the way he had wanted to when he was a hormonal teenager making one bad decision after another. Her impulsive, non-natural obsession made him feel even worse, and it took him less than one hour to give her the antidote and obliviate her memory. Not that he was proud of that. He continued before Skyrah realized the loath in his voice was directed towards himself rather than a gryffindor student.

“She’d be tricking a boy just because she needs to feel like she is the center of attention, peppered with caresses and honeyed words that would be untruthful.”

“I don’t think she knows that, Severus… Do you actually teach love potions?”

“So that students brew them themselves? Hell will freeze over first.”

Skyrah shrugged. “There is no need to teach the brewing steps and ingredients. Just make sure they can detect a love potion. Its effects. Its antidote. Why using it is wrong. Students will think twice before using one.”

And she resumed reading with no sign of aversion or repugnance on her face. Not only that. She had actually found Lavender sweet, even though what the girl had in mind was, in fact, perverse like he had been years ago.

She is willing to go through this just to feel loved on Valentine’s Day, she had said.

Oh, bloody hell.

Bloody fucking hell.

Skyrah must like the Feast. It was the only logical explanation Severus found to her reaction. She empathized with Lavender because Skyrah wanted to feel loved on Valentine’s Day as well. What did that mean, exactly? Wasn’t he showing her he loved her every day? Weren’t he and his awkward affectionate antics enough for her? Was he supposed to write her a poem and give her roses and chocolates and wish her a Happy Valentine’s Day in three days’ time?

Don’t be ridiculous, he scolded himself, refusing to take part in the holiday.

“Severus, are you okay?”

He shook his head, as if getting rid of his thoughts, and realized he had been staring at her.

“Miss Lovegood is obsessed with allegedly invisible feathered creatures that act like matchmakers. She is convinced that there is a flock of them in the dungeons, distracting the students in Potions class. I am starting to believe her… Mister Finnigan has almost caused an explosion… Three times. Mister Longbottom’s actually exploded, sending his partner to the Infirmary in the process. Miss Parkinson gave Mister Malfoy a box of chocolates poisoned with a love potion she most likely got in Knockturn Alley. Miss Vane keeps staring at Harry in a way that makes my stomach churn. All of that happened in one hour. One hour, after which I had to teach seventh-years, who are surprisingly a bit well-behaved but just as hormonal as the rest. The group would be bearable if it weren’t for the Weasley twins… They are scheming something. They are always scheming something, and it cannot be good, considering the side-glances they gave to each other throughout the lesson.” Severus paused, giving an air of dramatism to his speech. “Answering your question, I am doing surprisingly well, discounting those dunderheads are almost succeeding in driving me nuts.”

Skyrah put a hand on her mouth. Try as she might, a snicker escaped her. And then she chuckled, louder, and louder until it became a full belly laugh.

“I fail to see how this is funny, Skyrah.”

“Sorry,” she said, still chuckling softly. “You are adorably grouchy.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Smart as you are, I sometimes think you are delusional.”

“What a romantic thing to say to your wife,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Especially considering Valentine’s Day is coming.”

Romantic. Valentine’s Day is coming. Here she was with the cues, again.

“Skyrah…”

“Mmm?”

“Are you, by any chance, expecting me to indulge you in the upcoming celebration?”

“I expect you to do whatever you feel like doing, not what you are expected to do.”

That did not answer his question. Not fully. It didn’t help her tone had been monotone; her expression, neutral. Years of practiced Occlumency explained that. He was glad when she clucked her tongue and beckoned him to sit by her side. They didn’t talk much. It was unnecessary. Reading side by side was the calming draught he needed after the stressful week he was leading and would continue to lead for a few more days.

Valentine’s Day.

Severus woke up. Still half-drowsy, he stretched an arm over the other side of the bed, looking for that familiar warmth emanating from his wife.

It was cold.

He snapped his eyes open. He was about to check whether or not Skyrah was in the bathroom – victim of morning sickness, as usual – when he saw a piece of parchment from the corner of his eye. Was it…

No.

It couldn’t be.

It better not be a love letter.

He didn’t want it to be one, and at the same time, his heart beat faster, his hands became sweaty in anticipation. Was that how those idiotic teenagers felt when their crushes gave Valentine cards to them? Oh, shit. He was not better than them. He felt ridiculous, and at the same time, he was excited (that could very well be his first Valentine card that was not a prank). He didn’t understand his own physical reaction – he still believed Valentine’s Day was worthless – yet a part of him wanted to be proved wrong. If anyone could achieve that, it was Skyrah Andraste Snape.

It became clear at first glance that it was not a Valentine’s Card. The handwriting was messier than usual, but Severus identified it as Skyrah’s (she’d probably written it in a rush, for it read Albus had floo called her and she was now in a meeting). As a postscript, she had added she hadn’t had the heart to wake him up, as he didn’t have classes until the second period. For a reason he couldn’t explain, he was slightly disappointed.

Classes and mundane chats with colleagues kept Severus busy. He didn’t get to see his wife until lunch time. A heart-shaped chocolate cake with strawberries on top was the dessert. Only Albus would think it would be a good contribution to the Feast. Severus refused to eat it, nice as it smelled. He had a reputation, after all. Skyrah, on the contrary, happily obliged.

“Not as tasty as the chocolate cake you make, but good enough,” she said by the time her plate only had crumbs.

He merely hummed and proceeded to glare at a couple of teenagers (a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw) who were getting too touchy in the Great Hall. Even from the distance, they felt they were being watched. As soon as the Slytherin made eye contact with her Head of the House, she pulled away from her partner. He was smirking smugly when Skyrah put her hand on his knee – the gesture hidden by the table – and inquired how his day was going. He complained about the lessons, glad she always listened to his sullen self, and in turn, asked how she was doing and about Albus’s meeting.

“Oh, some students were not paying attention in class. I had anticipated that, so today was more of a review session than anything else. As for Albus’s meeting… It went well.”

“What was it about, if I may ask?”

“You, actually.”

“Me?”

“And your opinion on Valentine’s Day. He believes you were hurt in that date, as a teenager, maybe. Hence, the reason for your… disgust for the celebration.” Severus didn’t react. Not a single sign of vulnerability was detectable on his face. His guard was up. They were in public, after all. “Is Albus on the right track?”

“No. I have simply never liked it. I do not feel like taking part in a festivity that encourages fake affection.”

She didn’t insist, and for that, he was equally grateful and discouraged. He had expected her to find a way to persuade him. To convince him Valentine’s Day was not that bad if he was with the right person, but she didn’t. Maybe she is not a fan of the festivity. She would have already given me a black teddy bear or a box of dark chocolate or any other stupid thing couples in love did today.

The afternoon lessons were no different than those from that very same morning, or the classes he had given this past week. Full of hormonal adolescents counting the minutes they had to endure before being able to sneak out and go out on a date with their boyfriends or girlfriends.

Pathetic.

Severus wouldn’t admit he was counting the seconds that were left to endure them before reaching his quarters and being with his wife, alone.

Finally, the lessons were over for the day, leaving Severus with a headache. He pinched his nose and told himself to breathe in and out, in and out…

“Are you okay, sir?”

Dione Fawley.

Of course. Skyrah’s sister had to be a Hufflepuff, always worried about everybody’s well-being, even his. Wait. They were sisters. Perhaps, he could take advantage of her standing by the doorway rather than going to her Common Room or outside, to take a walk.

“Miss Fawley, did Daniel typically do something special for your sister at this… date?”

Dione blinked at his bluntness, and then, she smiled a mix of an amused and touched smile.

“You’re asking me for help, aren’t you? You don’t know what to do for her on Valentine’s Day.”

Well, he had forgotten that this Hufflepuff had been raised with a Slytherin sister. Of course, Dione was bound to be more perspicacious than those who wore a black and yellow tie like her. He wouldn’t acknowledge he had not been that discreet inquiring about Skyrah’s ex-fiancé.

“Daniel used to buy her stuff when they started dating.”

“And later on?”

“They had dates. Presents became secondary.”

“She isn’t that keen on the festivity, then,” he thought aloud, to what Dione reacted with a shrug. “She will not be dissatisfied if I don’t do anything out of the ordinary, will she?”

“I can’t tell for sure.”

Fantastic. How helpful this was proving to be. Although he dismissed her with a wave of his hand, she stood on her spot.

“Sir, if she ends up being dissatisfied, I will tell her you turned to me for advice. She will not stay mad at you. I assure you.”

She flounced out of the classroom before she got to see Severus’s scowl softening if only a bit.

As soon as he reached his chambers, he headed for his lab and summoned an anti-headache potion. Skyrah found him drinking the contents.

“I heard you enter,” she said, frowning deeply. “Are you feeling sick?”

“A headache,” was all he said, leaving the now empty flask on the lab desk.

She put her palm on his forehead and touched her own. It wouldn’t be the first time he undervalued the symptoms when being ill.

“No fever,” she whispered, alleviated. “I was starting to think a potion had gone wrong in class and made you sick, seeing the students are more clumsy and easily-distracted than usual.”

“I am fine,” he snapped, leading her to think he was not as fine as he assured.

The palm on his forehead lowered to his right shoulder. Her other palm rested on the left shoulder. She massaged the zone, tense under her fingers. In a moment of weakness, he shut his eyes and exhaled slowly, leaning into her.

Her lips curled into an impish grin.

“Severus?”

“Mm?”

“Bed, now.”

His eyes shot open. He allowed her to take him to their bedroom and softly push him until he was lying in bed and she was straddling his hips. She swished her wand, and he was left only in his underwear whilst she was fully clothed. The moment his fingers slid behind her, searching for the zip of her teaching robes, she caught his wrist and lifted an eyebrow.

“Tsk, tsk… We aren’t going to make love now, Severus.”

“We aren’t?”

At his visible disappointment, she gave him a crooked smile that got his stomach doing flip-flops and planted a kiss on his forehead.

“Lie on your stomach.”

Oh.

So that was what they were going to do. He was fine with that. She raised her hips, giving him space to turn. A summoning of an oil vial later, she had her palms on the scarred skin of his shoulder blades and neck. She started with light pressure, almost non-existing, a bit ticklish, and gradually increased it.

“You’re too tense…”

“Those dunderheads sometimes cause me greater stress than my father-in-law.”

Skyrah let out a giggle, and he felt her lips kissing his nape a second later, leaving a tingling sensation in the area.

“You forget they are my students, too. They are not that bad, Severus. You are just grumpy.”

He would have protested, yet the only sound that came from his mouth was a throaty moan. It wasn’t his fault. Her knuckles had pressed and released deliciously on one knot in his middle back. It was only normal to make those embarrassing sounds, or so he told himself. All the while, he didn’t realize the inane students and their ludicrously romantic antics had been temporarily obliviated from his mind.

“A bit lower,” he moaned.

“Here?” she said, gliding her hands to his lower back.

His response was a long sigh. Skyrah smiled, self-satisfied, and kept working until he lost track of time.

Later, Skyrah dried her hands and lay next to him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, playing with it. She doubted anyone had seen him as peaceful as he was right then. No scowl. No grimace. Muscles relaxed, not only on his back but also on his face. He looked younger.

“I love it when you let your guard down like this,” she whispered, noticing his cheeks turned a shade pinker at her comment. “Still disappointed we didn’t make love?”

“We haven’t made love yet. You said we weren’t going to make love then. The day hasn’t finished.”

She grinned slyly and kissed his hooked nose. “It hasn’t…”

But she didn’t make any move to touch him in a suggestive way. Instead, she snuggled closer to him and shut her eyes, breathing deeply. At some point, he slithered his hand to her womb – still not showing. Although her eyes remained closed, her lips twitched into a smile at the gesture.

“You and I are the luckiest guys on Earth, Son, for having your mother…”

“Oh, Severus… I am just as lucky to–”

“…And her wonderful hands. Perfect for a backrub,” he continued in a rare playful tone. She nudged him, barely restraining a grin. “She’s intelligent, gorgeous, understanding… I still don’t comprehend why she puts up with me.”

Skyrah’s expression softened. The hand that had been playing with his hair was now stroking his cheek delicately.

“Why I put up with you? You are my Valentine, Severus.”

Her voice had been as gentle as her touch, and he forgot how to breathe the moment she pecked his lips, so innocently. He had always hated Valentine’s Day, yet he hadn’t minded hearing her confess he was her Valentine. In fact, he wanted her to repeat it, to keep making him feel loved like Miss Brown probably still desired, and at the same time, he wished she would stop driving his heart crazy with her sweet words and warm touches. He felt dizzy under her loving gaze – a gaze that came naturally, under no love potion. This was real. Real and overwhelming, and the only way he knew to avoid feeling so overcome with emotion was teasing her, diverting the attention elsewhere.

“Don’t tell me you’ll give me a pink card with red hearts and rainbows now. I thought you knew it is not my style.”

She raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Who do you think I am? It’s black, of course, decorated with cauldrons and snakes.”

He tensed. Bloody hell. That better be a joke, or his heart would explode. Having a Valentine’s card and liking it – just like he liked anything that came from Skyrah – would wound his pride. His cheeks must have reddened at the thought, for she sniggered.

“I don’t have a card for you, you, fool. I was teasing you.”

He sighed, relieved. “No cards. Good, that’s good. Now tell me there are no chocolates or stuffed animals.”

“There are no chocolates or stuffed animals.”

“No watches or wallets or rare potions ingredients or a book or…”

“I didn’t buy anything for you, Severus.”

He was disappointed and relieved at the very same time, again. “Good. Wasting money on that nonsense would be unwise. I already know that you…”

He trailed off when she snuggled into him, forcing him to lie on his back as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“That I?”

“Love me,” he mumbled quietly into her hair, wrapping an arm around her to keep her in place. “That you love me.”

She smiled against his chest. “That, I do.”

She proceeded to draw patterns on his pectorals with her fingertips, toying with the soft hair there. He let her.

“Your Valentine’s gift was this massage, wasn’t it?”

“You weren’t expecting it, were you?”

“No,” he said with a carefree chuckle – a consequence of the massage aftereffects.

“Spending money on a gift isn’t the only way to show affection. I wanted to do this for you today. Was it to your liking?”

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head as an answer and whispered more to himself than to her, “I haven’t bought you anything, haven’t planned anything special in exchange.”

“I don’t need anything in exchange. I didn’t massage you only for your pleasure. I also did it for mine.”

“Would you still have done this for me if it wasn’t Valentine’s Day?”

“Haven’t I given you backrubs before?”

“Yes…”

“That answers your question, does it not?”

“What’s the point in celebrating Valentine’s Day if we do the same we do any other day?”

“I guess the celebration is for couples who have trouble expressing their love on a current basis. Valentine’s Day can serve to begin a relationship or to strengthen one. For most couples, it’s an excuse to have a date, but that is not something bad, is it?”

“You want to go out?”

Dione hadn’t been specific, but that was what Skyrah probably did when she’d dated Daniel.

“I am feeling rather homey, today,” she mumbled into his chest. “I’ll only go out if you feel like eating out.”

“All good restaurants must be booked already. I guess we’ll have to stay and cook.”

“Lovely,” she said. And she meant it. Cooking together was a synonym of a good time. “But not yet. Gotta take advantage of your extra-cuddly attitude today.”

Like any other day, they cooked, and laughed at her mediocre cooking skills, and snogged, and ate while talking about trivial things, or how they imagined their son would turn out to be.

Eventually, it was time to sleep. They were back in the bedroom. Severus summoned his nightwear and left it on top of the black satin bedsheets. He sat on the edge of the bed and began to undo his shoes. Meanwhile, Skyrah watched him, chewing her bottom lip.

“Severus?”

“Yes?” he asked, removing his shoes at last.

“I might have not been entirely truthful today…”

He raised an eyebrow, meeting her eyes. “You do have that Valentine card with cauldrons and snakes, don’t you? Merlin. I should have known you weren’t kidding.”

She detected a hint of sadness under his joke.

“You have never received a Valentine, have you? That is one of the reasons you dislike the day…”

He looked away – a clear answer.

“You confiscated enough Valentine’s cards for me to gather you do not particularly like them. I’d have given you one if I had known the reason.”

“I don’t want nor need one.”

Prideful fool, she thought with a rueful grin. Presents are universally liked, after all. Skyrah made a mental note to give him one next year and make it worth it, even if he told himself love cards were stupid.

“Yeah, I figured you’d say something like that if I gave you a card or any kind of present, for the matter, but I still wanted to try.”

“You got me a present? You said you didn’t buy anything for me.”

“I did buy something, only it’s not exclusively for you. It’s for both of us. I’m sorry I wasn’t straightforward earlier. I wanted this to be a surprise.”

A pause followed.

“Well? What is it?” he asked, more curious than annoyed.

“Undress me,” was all she said, grinning enigmatically.

So he did. Meticulously, kissing bits of skin he revealed in hopes to arouse her, suddenly remembering they hadn’t made love yet. He was in for a big surprise when she was left only in her undergarments, only she was not clad in simple cotton bra and panties, as usual, but a single-piece lingerie that accentuated her waist and her breasts – not that they needed more accentuation, being pregnant. It was lacy, with a few transparencies and thin straps. Simultaneously naughty and sophisticated.

“Do you like it?” she asked almost shyly, swinging about slowly, giving him a nice view of her mostly bare backside.

He gulped, pupils dilated. She had never worn something like this for him; a certain part of his anatomy was well aware of it and acting in accordance.

“Too much?” she pressed, at his lack of answer. “If this kind of lingerie isn’t your thing, I’ll just–“

He took her by the waist, pulled her into his embrace and kissed her, successfully silencing her and her self-doubting mind. His hands worked their way around her body, feeling each curve along her perfect physique, covered in a cranberry-colored fabric that contrasted against her pale skin. In return, he was gifted with sighs of pleasure and prying fingers unbuttoning his robes.

“How long have you been wearing this under your teaching robes?” he panted, breaking the kiss.

“Since first thing in the morning. I wanted to make love today. I just didn’t know when. I had to be prepared,” she responded amid faint kisses she planted on his neck.

Her lips trailed up to his jaw. She followed his jawline, brushing her lips across the skin, and encountered his earlobe.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Severus,” she whispered hotly in his ear.

Happy Valentine’s Day, he should have responded despite his dislike for the festivity, if only to please her. But he couldn’t think clearly, not with her fingers unfastening his last button.

“Tell me you are going to wear this more than once a year,” was the only thing he came up with.

She smirked against his neck and softly bit it.

“Oh, so you do like this set.”

“I like you in it.”

Skyrah laughed and pressed her plump breasts against his now bare chest, making him gasp.

“Any day can be Valentine’s Day, Severus. You just need to show me or tell me that you want it, and I’ll wear it for you.”

“How about every day?”

“Now, don’t be so ambitious. This,” she said, bringing his hands to her hips. “Is special. It would not be the same if I wore it every day. Not to mention, I’d need more than one set of lingerie. Once a month is enough.”

“Too long. Every other day is perfect. Buy as much lingerie as you see fit.”

She smirked, enjoying his teeth softly biting her collarbone. “Once every three weeks.”

“Every week.”

“Every two weeks.”

“Deal.”

Negotiating with a Slytherin felt good. Being thrown to bed and covered with an appetizing female body was even better. His last coherent thought was that maybe Valentine’s Day was not that insufferable, after all. Oh, it still was too cheesy. A nightmare filled with hormonal teenagers, an absurd materialistic behavior and too much pink. Yes, Valentine’s Day was all that, but it was then, when Skyrah fully undressed him and touched him with so much care and passion, that he realized the real reason he had loathed the festivity was he had always spent it on his own, watching others enjoy it.

He wouldn’t spend it on his own anymore.

“Did you have a good day?” she whispered when both were sweaty under the bedsheets, huddling.

“More like a good afternoon and evening.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t hate the festivity so much now, do you?”

“It’s… tolerable.”

“Tolerable?”

“If spent with the right person, that is.”

Skyrah smirked. Of course he’d say that.

“Well, I’ve had a wonderful day.”

“Even though I haven’t given you anything special?”

“Is that what you believe?” she asked, raising her head slightly to lock eyes with him.  With a hand on his cheek, she added, “You spent the afternoon with me, cuddling, cooking… We made love. You were, are, my Valentine. Your company. Your trust. Your touch. That’s the present you gave me today.”

“Is that enough?”

“You are more than enough, Severus.”

Seeing she had struck him speechless with her honesty, she brought one of his hands to take a hold on her black-pearled pendant, surrounded by two crows – their patroni. By sunrise, he was still clutching the symbol of their love. The other was covering her baby bump protectively, as always.