〚FEATURED〛
⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒
"My pick-up lines are great."
"Yeah, and I have a pet llama."
"You do??"
"No, idiot."
⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒
Arc-en-ciel (n.): Rainbow
He's the perfect example of a thundercloud. He's rude, grumbly, and frightening to most- ready to harshly rain dow...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
{TIMELINE: FEW YEARS AFTER THEIR WEDDING}
A N N A B E T H
Poke.
Poke.
Poke.
Wha-?
"Hmm?" I mumble sleepily, as I try to pry my eyes open- but the harsh sunlight seeping in through the curtains, makes me squint in confusion.
It takes a few seconds of blinking until I can finally discern the silhouette of a tiny figure with messy pigtails, next to my bedside- repeatedly poking my arm.
"Mommy?" the tiny figure whispers, "Are you sleepin'?"
Well, I'm not anymore.
It doesn't stop her from poking my arm like it's some game of whack-a-mole, though.
"Sweetheart," I mumble, as I try to sit up but the gargantuan arm around my waist prevents me from moving, "What's wrong?"
"Mommy," my four-year-old daughter whispers, her eyes wide and excited, "D'you want to hear about the pictures in my eyes?"
For a second, I was almost concerned. "Pictures in your eyes?"
"Uh-huh," she nods earnestly, "When I'm sleepin', I see pictures in my eyes-"
Oh, dear.
"Baby," I almost laugh, despite my drowsy state, as I blink at her, amused, "You mean your dreams?"
She blinks.
"D-Dreams?" she repeats after a second of contemplation.
"Mhmm," I nod the best I can as I reach out to stroke her wild hair, "When you're asleep and you see those little pictures and stories in your eyes- they're called dreams."
"You-You get 'em too, Mommy?" she asks, astonished- her eyes wide in wonder.
"Of course, sweetheart," I nearly laugh again at the expression on her face, "Y'know, your Papa gets them too."
Considering the way he was snoring into my neck at that moment, with his arms wrapped around my waist- the man was definitely in deep sleep- probably dreaming of something.
James had been a cuddler for as long as I had known him. Even if he continued to deny it, after all these years, I'd still wake up with his limbs wound around mine tightly- smothering me and restricting any sort of movement.
Even the times we fought, and we slept on separate ends of the bed- I'd wake up wrapped in his arms- with him glaring at me when I tried to move, and me glaring right back- even if no words were exchanged.
