A Little Bit Married

Eyes of My Father

I woke up sometime during the night, my stomach growling with hunger. I was snuggled up in Gray's body, however, his much larger frame wrapping comfortably around me, his arms covering me up. I slowly looked up, and he was sound asleep, his lashes moving slightly against each other.

I let out a small sigh, my chest heaving as I leaned up to him, my body feeding on his warmth, my chest heaving hard. I closed my eyes again, ignoring the hunger I felt, and chose to feed simply on the tingles of his slow kisses all over me, the evergreen feel of his hands running over my skin, his beautiful scent.

Soon enough, I fell back asleep, my mind at peace.

I woke up again much later, but this time, the sun was filtering into the room, and I could tell it was morning already. Gray was shielding me from the violently bright light, and just like it had been a few hours ago, I almost snuggled back into him.

I was far too hungry this time, however, and I slowly leaned away from him, then sat up. I turned to him, my eyes taking him in. He was still asleep, his lips very slightly parted.

It made me smile, and I leaned back to him, my hand running against the loose strands of his hair, a smile lifting up my lips.

His eyes suddenly opened, and he met mine. For a long minute, he just watched me, his eyes still slightly sleepy.

"You are awake?" I whispered as he leaned a little closer.

He looked up to me again, then smiled, his eyes thin and filled with light. "Even in the morning?"

My brows slightly furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You're breathtaking even in the morning."

I gave a small laugh. "And you are a sweet talker even early in the morning."

He smiled, and I leaned away, grabbing a container of food. I leaned back and slowly started to eat. Gray moved till his head was resting on my lap, his hair sprawled all over the hospital gown I was wearing.

"I forgot to tell you last night," he started, his hand resting on my knees. "Kris said to tell you that he misses you."

I gave a small smile. "Did he really?"

Gray nodded, then turned to bury his face in my stomach.

"And I was concerned that I wasn't spending a lot of time with him. When we go back, I definitely should."

Gray chuckled. "We could have a kid of our own, too. I meant, you and I. You are pretty damn nice to be able to overlook who Gray's mother is and how she ended up being pregnant with him."

"None of it is his fault."

"I know," Gray whispered. "Believe me, I do. When he said he missed me, I told him that I miss him too. He looks so much like me. It's crazy. And believe me, I know I will love him even more. I just know."

I leaned, playing around with his hair. "You are going to make the best father."

"Maybe. I do want to see what a little me and you would look like." He opened his eyes and met mine, and his smile brightened. "If he or she had your hair... your eyes..."

"I want them to have your eyes," I said, laughing at the fact that I had already thought of this, and I was, without doubt sure that I wanted our kids to have his eyes.

"Why would you want a dull grey when they can have a vibrant greenish blue?"

I shrugged. "Greenish blue is... maybe the sky? The ocean? Yeah. Maybe those. Grey, however, is... clouds. Not just any clouds. The clouds right before rain. Depending on how you feel, it could be the clouds that welcomes the sort of rain that catches you in the bus, staring oit the window, your heart broken, and the rain against the window convinces you to let out the tears you have been fighting."

He watched me, his focus completely on me.

"And sometimes, it is the rain that comes when you need a new opening. A new day. Once the rains clear off, you get to see the colours a little brighter. It is sometimes the sort of rain that mends your broken heart."

I met his eyes, and he was watching me silently, his brows lightly drawn, his fingers intertwined with mine.

"I... I talk way too much, right?"

He shook his head slowly, a small, wistful smile spreading on his lips. "I... my father had the same colour of eyes, you know. After they died, I just couldn't bring myself to look in the mirror because all I could see was him. My eyes were a reminder of their deaths, and I thought... I thought nothing could be crueller than that."

I ran my hands through his hair, and he closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

"And here you are... making me want to love my own eyes."

I smiled, then leaned, kissing his eyelids. "You absolutely should. I love them too."

He held my hand tight and brought it to his lips, his eyes closing against the back of my hand as he sucked in a sharp breath.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice low. "Thank you so much, Angeline."

It made me feel a little light that it meant so much to him, and I nodded slowly as he held my hand tight to his chest, like he was expecting me to run away and leave him waiting on that sort of love.

"Your parents..." I said suddenly, remembering the photos I had picked from Aunt Althea's tantrum.

He opened his eyes, and I swallowed.

"Was someone else at the accident scene?"

His brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

I bit down on my lips, then shook my head. "Just to thank them for saving you."

He smiled as I kissed his forehead, and the pictures stayed at the back of my mind, waiting to spring up on me again.