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“Shh!” you were greeted with the quietest of shushes, a finger held to the plump lips of your husband, a look of panic in his eyes.
“Sorry,” you mouthed, bringing your hands to cup your cheeks with a worried expression.
Deeming the crisis averted, Namjoon pulled the blanket closer to your sleeping daughters chin, being careful not to jostle or stir her from her slumber. When deciding she was as tucked in as can be, he rose from his seat at the edge of her bed, bending forward and planting the softest of kisses to her forehead, before turning on his heel and tiptoeing towards you. The glow of her spinning light up carousel on her nightstand casted shadows on the walls of her room, illuminating enough for her to feel safe and allow her no disturbance as she slept.
Pulling the bedroom door to be left ajar, Namjoon finally let out the breath he’d been holding all day, his shoulders visibly sinking. The rings under his eyes were enough indication of his hectic day, the tiredness in his demeanor doing nothing for his appearance.
“You did so good today,” you smiled fondly, bringing your hands to his forearms and urging him forward until he leaned to rest his forehead on your shoulder. When you wrapped your arms around him, gently scratching his back, he sunk further into you, his nose burying into your neck.
“I only cried once today,” he mumbled proudly, smiling against your skin when you squirmed after he placed a brief kiss behind your ear.
“I know, baby, already improving from last week.”
For reasons you didn’t quite understand, your daughter’s preschool had decided to let children off every Wednesday now, meaning now there was a day that your daughter would be staying home. Your job as an accountant made it difficult to take off in the middle of the week so that meant Namjoon, a self-publishing author, took on the role as nanny and had to take care of your daughter all on his own. It was now week three and it looked as if a tornado had gone through your home with all the mess the two had created.
“She’s so smart, you know that?” he asked with the sigh, holding you to his side as you both lazily walked to your bedroom. “And for a 4-year-old, she’s strong. She threw a cushion clean across the room without breaking a sweat. I mean, that thing got air and when it hit me in the face, I thought we may have accidentally brought home a baby hulk from the hospital instead of our daughter.”
You giggled, taking a seat on the side of your shared bed, watching as he bent to the ground and slipped off your flats and bunny printed socks. “She’s competitive, too, so watch out.”
“I wonder where she gets it from,” he thought aloud, laughing when you eyed him warningly.
Raising your arms, he pulled your blouse off and tossed it to the side, pausing to look at the state of you before stealing a kiss, his full lips against your own as he whispered how beautiful you looked. You blushed as the palm of his hand caressed your pregnant belly, his thumb rubbing circles right above your navel. You were nearly seven months along with another girl on the way. You and Namjoon had already picked out the name.
“You love it, though,” you chirped, letting him undress you down to your undies. Slipping a satin night gown on you, he swept your hair past your shoulders before helping you lay back without causing discomfort to you or your unborn baby.
“I do love it,” he admitted happily, tossing his discarded jeans to the side, leaving him in his boxers and tee shirt as he slipped into bed beside you. “And I love you,” he kissed your lips. “And I love you,” he pressed his mouth to your belly. “And I love that human we created down the hall,” he finally settled, spooning you from behind and throwing an arm over your side so to lay his hand flat against your stomach.
“Even though she made you cry earlier?” you asked with a smile stretching at your lips.
“Just once, though!” he reminded you, chuckling as he pulled you in closer, hiding his face in your hair.
It was silent for awhile and you had figured he’d fallen asleep when suddenly, he rose to rest on his elbow and peer over your shoulder to look at you with an expression of hope.
“Maybe this one won’t be so strong and she’ll listen when I tell her it’s not nice to try and shove cheerios into my dimples.”
You laughed loudly, covering your mouth in hopes you didn’t wake your sleeping daughter down the hall. Namjoon shushed you for the second time that night, however, unable to contain the fit of giggles that crept up his throat. You were catching your breath when you both froze, the light from the hall shining on you both as a small silhouette stood in your doorway.
“Daddy? Mommy?” the tired voice of your daughter called out.
Before either of you could protest, she was climbing up over you, wiggling to get in between and throwing her little arms out to cover you both, back to sleep in record time.
“And you thought you’d be so lucky,” you teased and smiled when he hugged your daughter closer and reaching far enough to still have his palm on your belly.
He hummed tiredly. “In fact, I’m the luckiest.”