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He loved watching his mother get ready for the night. She looked so happy and relaxed, nothing like how she was during the day. It was like a weight lifted from her shoulders, the pressure of their everyday forgotten as night fell. Her long brown hair was no longer tied up in the detailed hair styles that it was in during the day, it was free and flowing around her shoulders.
She sat at the mirror of her vanity, wiping the powder and creams that she wore on her face during the day. It left him able to see the imperfections of her face that was usually covered. She almost always wore makeup so being able to see her like this was a blessing. He didn’t think that she needed it, the makeup, but it made her more beautiful anyhow. She was smiling softly at him, who was curiously peaking over her shoulder to watch what she was doing. She never got annoyed at him for getting in her way, not that he tried to, he just wanted every change that he could get of being able to be with her alone before his sister arrived.
The only person similar to a sister he has is Tigris, but she was his cousin, so she didn’t really count. Tigris is also older than him, so it isn’t the same as having a younger sister. Tigris is three years older than him, and he will be five years older than his sister so it’s hard to find a comparison that could fit. The only way to know what it will be like is for it to happen.
His mother finished taking off her makeup and walked over to her dresser. He wondered what she was going to wear, all of her clothes were so pretty, especially on her. Sometimes, during the day, she wore long dresses in many pretty colours, other times she wore scarves with her collared shirts. His favourite shawl of hers is the orange one, it was such a lovely orange colour, and it always made her look happy when wearing it. He is pretty sure it is her favourite one as well.
Their closets, which used to have had an abundant of clothes, had already been diminished by the war as they couldn’t spend us much money to get materialistic things such as clothes. The war had only been going for a short amount of time, but he hoped that it would end soon.
She pulled out a pale coloured night gown, turned to him and said, “Go to your bedroom and wait for me there, I’ll tuck you in after I finish getting dressed.”
He bit his lip and quietly asked, “Can you sing me a song? Please?”
She smiled at him gently and answered, “Of course.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He smiled and ran out of the room in excitement. His mother didn’t always sing to him when tucking him into bed, but she always did when he asked. She had the most beautiful voice that he had ever heard, and he didn’t think that anybody could ever convince him otherwise. It was his favourite part of the day and with the way that his mother became at ease when singing, he thought it was his mother’s too.
He crawled under his covers, practically buzzing in excitement. He wondered what song his mother was going to sing to him, she knew so many songs that he couldn’t possibly pick his favourite. It didn’t matter what song she chose to sing; she would always sound beautiful to him.
The door, which he only partially closed in his rush to get to bed, creaked a little as his mother peaked her head through the gap, showing her fondly amused face. She always made that face at him when he got so happy at the prospect of his mother singing for him, but he couldn’t help it! His mother, his favourite person ever, doing her favourite thing? Who wouldn’t get excited about that?
The door creaked a little more as she fully moved into the room, showing off her whole body. She was wearing an off-white silk night gown, which was loose around her stomach to be comfortable and show off her baby bump. It fell down near her feet and swished around her legs when she walked. It had lace along the V-neck collar, though it was not low enough so show any cleavage. She looked extremely pretty.
She sat down next to where his legs wear stretched out on the bed, careful not to accidentally sit on them. She leaned over so he didn’t have to crane his neck to look at her, and as she did this he got a whiff of her scent; rose. It came from a powder in a silver compact that she always wore and took everywhere in her handbag. The scent was still there even though she had washed it off. One time, he had had asked her when she had started wearing it since roses were a symbol of the Snow family, which she was married into. Did she wear it because she liked it or so she could fit the image the family portrayed? She didn’t answer, leaving him still wondering.
His Mother learned down further, kissed his forehead, and softly started singing.
The water is wide
I cannot get o’er
And neither have I the wings to fly
Oh go and get me some little boat
And both shall row, my love and I
She had never sung this song for him before. The song was fairly slow and had a pattern of having a longer note roughly every four words. His mother’s voice was very high pitched and pure, which suited the song almost perfectly.
Where love is planted, O, there it grows
It buds and blossoms, like some rose
It has a sweet and pleasant smell
No flower on earth, can it excel.
As always, there were flaws it the way that she sung but it just made the way that she was singing more beautiful. Her breathe hitched in some places and in others her notes were shaky but that was expected with a song without instruments in the background.
There is a ship sailing on the sea
It’s loaded deep, as deep can be
But not as deep, as in love I am
I know not if I sink or if I swim.
She was rubbing her thumb back and forth where his head met his skull, a subconscious action that he doesn’t think she is aware that she’s doing. It was a comforting and soothing gesture.
The water is wide
I cannot get o’er
And neither have I the wings to fly
Oh go and get me some little boat
And both shall row, my love and I
When she finished singing, she kissed him again on the forehead and gave him a brief smile. She always looked at him so softly, liked she loved him as much as he loved her. She rested her head on his pillow, laying down completely instead of having her body propped on her arm as she had before. He shifted around to give her room to slip under the blankets and so he could see her face better. Laying down like this their size difference was obvious, she could curl her whole body around him and leave him in a warm cocoon if she wanted to. He wouldn’t mind if she did.
“That song that I just sang, that’s our special song, ok?” His mother said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over them after she had finished singing and they moved around.
“Our song?” He questioned. “What does that mean?”
“It means that it is a song only for the two of us, nobody will ever hear it other than us.” She confirmed. “I won’t sing it to anybody else, ever. Not even your little sister.”
“You promise?” He questioned, hesitant. His mother had never mentioned only having a song with one other person before. All of her songs she also sung to other people as well as him, like Tigris and his father. She didn’t sing for his father a lot though; his father doesn’t find joy in the singing as much as he did.
“I promise.” She said, smiling reassuringly at him. “We have the song because it shows that we love each other. I had one with my mother and soon I’ll have one with your sister as well. It’s pretty much a tradition in my family.” She looked slightly shy at admitting this, smiling at him hesitantly.
He returned the smile in a full-on grin. “I love you too!” He exclaimed happily as that was the most important thing he got from her admittance. He squirmed closer in her direction, intending on snuggling close to her but her baby bump got in the way.
“Careful, Coryo! You don’t want to squash your baby sister.” His mother said, voice filled with amusement. He could tell that she wasn’t actually angry at him and was joking around so he let a giggle slip through his lips. He moved his hand so he could press it against her stomach, he could feel it moving up and down with every one of her breathes. He could almost imagine that he was touching his future little sister.
“Don’t worry, I will always be careful with her.” He promised. “I’ll be the best brother she or anyone else could ask for.” And he meant it. If his sister was going to be anything like his mother or even Tigris, he would make sure that they are the luckiest person in the world. He will always be there for her and make sure that she was happy and safe.
“I know, my baby.” She said, reaching out her hand to brush away his hair from where it had fallen near his eyes. She threaded her fingers through his soft blonde curls a couple of times before twirling a curl around one of her fingers. She did this sometimes, play with his hair. He knew that she did it when she was thinking about something, so he waited for her to disclose what she’s pondering about. “I hope she has the same hair as you, it’s so soft and beautiful.”
His hair was the same white blonde as his father’s, a typical characteristic of the Snow family. He got his curls from his mother, a trait he was proud to have inherited as it was the only trait from her appearance that he had. Her curls were fairly loose, framing her face and elegantly falling over her shoulders. He didn’t have long hair as he was a boy, but he hoped to see the elegant Snow hair in his mother’s curls on his sister’s head, to see the perfection that the blood of the Snows and his mother could create.
“I hope she will have your eyes; they are so pretty.” He said, meaning every word. His mother’s eyes were an emerald green, which, with her pale skin, looked so vibrant. His eyes, on the other hand, were an extremely pale blue which, while still a vivid colour, was washed out by his similarly pale skin and hair.
He looked how his namesake would suggest, skin like snow and eyes a frozen lake. His mother, on the other hand, looked like an evergreen tree, eyes the colour of the leaves with hair the colour of the bark or surrounding earth. His sister would look like thaw, green finally peeking through at the end of a treacherous winter.
“Your eyes are pretty as well, though.” His mother said defended him, a small frown appearing on her face.
“I want her to look like you, I don’t care how pretty she may look otherwise.” When it looked like his mother was going to interrupt and argue with him, he hastily added, “Not that looking like me would be bad, I just would prefer it if she didn’t.” If she looked like him then she would look like his father, not a awful thing but not a good one either.
His mother pursed her lips as if she didn’t believe him but after a moment she sighed and said, “It doesn’t matter what she looks like, both of us will love her with all of our hearts. Correct?”
He nodded.
She smiled. “Good.” She didn’t say anything after that, she just closed her eyes and rested her head on top of his, his head in the crook of her neck. She did this sometimes, stop talking during a conversation when she didn’t feel like talking anymore. He couldn’t blame her for it though; he did that as well.
He closed his eyes and snuggled closer to her, ready to fall asleep. Having his mother curled around like this made him feel safe and loved, the softness of her body cocooning him in warm. He quickly fell asleep.