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Three years. Their baby girl was completing three years, which meant that they were completing four years together.
If you had told Mini at the beginning of high school that she’d be a happy Creevey in less than half a decade, she’s laugh in your face and call you a nut case.
But less than half a decade had passed and she was a happy Creevey, with the prettiest ginger daughter one could ever have.
Three years.
Little Grace Camille Creevey was all Mini except the essential: the hair and the attitude. Like Alo, the little girl was easy on making friends and having them around out of love, not fear the way Mini kept her for most of her life. Gray was a magnet. A good one, like Earth’s, and she had to that Alo for that.
In fact, Mini thanked every single day, every single minute. He loved her, he saw her. He gave her reasons to be the better person she knew she could be.
And although he was surrounded by other moms – moms of kids from Gray’s daycare – being the cool guy, completely party host he was, even when she crisped her eyes at him, because he was busy making everyone comfortable while the kids were making a mess with Rags and he took it the wrong way (on porpuse), muttering a “what? Wait a minute, are you jealous?” that made her laugh and almost drop the tray of sandwiches she was caring, even so she thanked.
Sure they had their differences and their fights. Of course they did, they were Mini and Alo. But four years had passed – and here Alo came to her and took the tray from her hands just because – and all she could feel was more love for him. And more love for him. And more love for him every passing minute.
“You’re awesome.” She told him and he kissed her forehead.
“And you’re the shit.” He replied with a wink, making her smile even more.
Life was good.