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The sun has risen over the horizon and yet the overworked 22-year-old man refuses to open his eyes. He can feel the heat reflecting onto his half-naked body, slipping through the thin curtains, he simply turns to face away from the morning light.
Yesterday was such a pain in the ass that he’d much rather lay underneath the cozy bed sheets all day; lying next to the one he holds dear. Speaking of which, he suddenly feels a much better warmth placing onto his arm. It shifts closer until its lips press against his forehead. The man cannot help himself opening one eye to gaze upon the smiling face before him.
“Good morning, Jean dear.”
“Mmm, you too Marco.”
Such soothing voices they love to hear every morn.
“What time is it exactly? Feels like I’ve been sleeping forever.” The taller man rubs one of this eyes as he sits up in their bed, the other eye stares out of the window.
“About eight at least, so not too long.”
“Really? *yawn* bit early don’t you think?”
His husband is more of an early bird than Jean is; always right as rain to give him his best smile to wake up to. However, he’s not sure on why still so early, as today is suppose to be their first day off in a long while. Guess some habits never do go away so easily.
Sorry, but you know how a little someone will get cranky if we sleep in.” Marco reminds him, gesturing his head towards two cribs over in the corner of their bedroom.
Jean’s sleepy eyes get the picture. “Oh yeah.”
Standing up steadily, the taller man walks his way over to those said cribs, staring away adoringly at two small buds snoozing soundly. One of them being a brown haired boy clutching onto his blanket, the other, a girl with a similar brown shade of hair like Jean, nibbles her nail in her sleep. Such precious angels for the young couple.
When was the last time Jean felt such peace when looking at them like this? Normally he’d end up feeling sad for as soon as he got up, he and Marco would call in a sitter while they prepare for a long day of ambassador work. Yes, they could’ve gotten some days off but some tasks were never easy for just their friends to tackle alone; especially when it came to dealing with the Jaeger Faction.
But now that things have quiet down for the time being - thanks to Historia - they’ve been given their needed day off to spend time together as the new family they should be. On such a warm day too.
Jean is so overjoyed from the inside he can’t help but lift his sleeping daughter into his arms - he does his best to not wake her up. Doesn’t last long as the little girl blinks awake, rubbing her baby blues in the same manner as her daddy did earlier. A grumble escaped.
“Sorry, baby.” Jean whispers. “But good morning to you.”
All she does is rest her head into his shoulder for comfort. Marco, whom is right beside them, smiles blissfully and the wholesomeness of the interaction. He reminds himself to pick up their son from his sleep as well; he’s not as fussy as his twin sister as he remains asleep when lifted.
It feels like an hour of the men just gazing and gently rubbing circles on each toddler’s backs, but it’s all they really need right now. Despite that, Marco is the first one to speak.
“So you think it’s about time we get changed and have breakfast?”
“Isn’t it better to wait for them to fully awake first?” Jean asks in a half-pleading tone, as if he just wants to stay holding his daughter all day.
Marco lightly giggles. “We have all day to play with them. Right now we all need something to eat.”
“Alright, alright.”
The content couple agree to carefully have their children lie down on their bed, with one of them keeping a close eye whilst the other changes in the washroom. It doesn’t take too long for each of them to slowly wake up by themselves - the girl getting instantly confused once her eyes fully open.
“Dada?” She speaks suddenly.
Hearing that word makes Marco’s heart feel full.
-
It’s around some time after half-past eight now and the stomachs of the Kirstein family are filled up. They remain seated in one of the hotel’s private eating rooms, attempting to feed their little ones with what’s left on their plates. While the boy’s a bit fussy, their daughter gulps it all down like it’s nothing - she does have big enough appetite for her age.
The warmth from outside continues to shine through the windows and onto Jean’s skin, he cannot resist looking out at the clear sky weather, and on that note also notices the hotel’s back garden.
Summer has just came into season and so has all the flowers out there. There must be dozens of different colors blossoming in the sunshine; there’s some blue, some purple and most yellow. Not to mention many touches of green from the trees, hedges and plants surrounding the place. Everything together appears more stunning than any painting Jean’s ever seen.
His husband along with his daughter seem to both notice the awe on his face. “Beautiful out there, huh?”
“Hm?” Jean turns around. “Yeah, definitely.”
”When was the last time we ever saw a garden in full bloom?”
Jean knows Marco isn’t attempting to lower the mood at all, but it still brings back some sorrowful memories. He’s right though; throughout the past years there’s been nothing but plain fields left to right. They were very thankful to have seen the vegetation on Paradis growing well.
“Couldn’t say.” He replies softly with a smile. “But it’s nice that the moment is now.”
He stares down at his little girl, who herself is staring out at each flower bed. Turning towards her freckled dad on the opposite side of the table, she babbles in a slightly demanding tone:
“Walk.”
The men should be surprised to hear one full word coming from their daughter’s mouth but they have been told by the sitter a few times that their kids have been developing their sense of speech very quickly for their age, so they’ve been expecting this. What they didn’t expect was for her to sound super instructing.
“Walk?” Now the little boy speaks too, only more like questioning as if it’s what they’re doing next.
“Well Rosie, we could go outside but only if you ask nicely. Okay, sweetie?” Jean gives her the ‘fair but firm’ look down at her.
For a few seconds, Rosie plays with her fingers while looking a little sad in her eyes. Her pouty face reminds Marco of Jean from their youth a lot - he thinks it’s cute.
“Walk pwease?” She repeats, more politely this time.
“Of course we can.” Jean smiles.
Marco thinks to himself as he picks up their son - whom I should state his name is Philip -from his lap: ‘I never thought I’d see him acting so doting yet understanding to children, including his own. Seems we really made the right choice that day.’
-
One step out of the door and the tender, calming breeze is the first thing they experience. The ringing of an old wind chime somewhere in the garden only adds to the natural atmosphere, so peaceful and so inspirational. Jean and Marco take a good look around and spot a wooden bench over by the patch of daisies, in fact, Rosie happily points to the area like she recognises it (the sitter must’ve taken them out here times before) and so they decide to go and sit.
Well, actually, Rosie keeps on babbling in joy, pointing at any flower they cross, nearly falling out Jean’s arms from her squirming. Good thing he has a good grip or else her fragile toddler body would get seriously hurt from the stone tiles beneath. She seems to really love this place as much as her dads do, so once she’s done wriggling does Jean place her down on her feet to go exploring.
“Remember, don’t let go of me while we’re here.” Jean informs the distracted Rosie, but she nods anyway.
As they slowly walk at a pace to have her at his side, Marco keeps an eye on Philip, keeping him close to his chest on the bench. Seems he can’t take his eyes off of those daisies either, naturally, it gives him an idea.
The flowers all look much prettier up close than from the window; all of them dance in the summer breeze delicately. Whenever Rosie walks across one which she likes, she bends down to gaze and take a whiff. Jean occasionally does the same when Rosie pleads him to do so - he does stop her if she tries to pick any of them too.
“Wantit!” She whines over a pinkish dahlia so badly that her voice pitches to a squeak.
“Sweetie, we can’t just pick flowers from the hotel’s gardens. Besides, if you pick those flowers they’ll die.” Jean attempts to be calm and explain to his fussing daughter.
Thank god it took less than a minute for her to calm down - usually she’d move on to the crying - and buries her face into the crook of her dad’s neck.
“Don’t be sad, Rosie.” Jean coos whilst rubbing her back. “Do you wanna see what papa and your brother are doing?”
Sniffling is all he receives.
They both head back now only to be greeted with a stunning surprise. Marco has Philip sitting next to him on the bench, weaving together daisy crowns as steady as a turtle. Their son already has one upon his head so the other small one Marco is currently on must be for Rosie. He jolts a little once he notices his husband standing next to him.
“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” He chuckles.
“I-It’s fine. I… knew you can braid hair but daisy chains as well?”
“Growing up with a younger sister, you’ll end up doing these sort of things.”
“I see. Can I maybe try?”
Marco gives a confused look at his husband; not that he finds Jean making flower crowns weird, he’s just never asked him before. He scoots over on the bench to make room for Jean, which he does and then turns Rosie over to show her papa’s masterpiece.
“Look darling. Papa has made this for you. What do you think?” Jean smiles once again.
Instead of being moody and turning her head back again, she gleefully perked up and shows grabby hands towards it. Marco gently places it on top of her head as if crowning a little princess. She returns the favor with a tiny giggle which is like music to both of her dads’ ears.
“Do you like it baby? What do you say?”
“Than’ wou.” Rosie attempts to say ‘thank you’ with her babbly way of speaking at her age.
“Aww, you’re welcome sweetie.”
Her smile is almost as bright as Marco’s. Whenever they see it, they can’t help but smile back. So now that she’s happy again, they leave her at the side to play with her brother, their little crowned prince. As they watch them play, Jean places his arm around his freckled husband in awe of the familial moment. Marco lovingly gazes back at him… and then back to Rosie… pondering.
“You know, she’s growing to become more like you, Jean.”
“Really? How so?” He asks.
“One minute she can pretty grouchy and act in charge, the next she shows a much sweeter side. A lot like you if you ask me.”
“Har har. Very funny.”
“I mean it. Things have been rough on you for the past few years, but every time you see our children you act like your usual self again. I can’t wait for the day for things to eventually calm down so we can be like this again. Be a real happy family.”
Jean feels like crying happiness right now. He’s extremely lucky to have married this man, his closest friend to his lover, whom wishes the same as himself - a wish they’ll for certain make true. Looking back at the baby twins smiling, their own little buds are still growing, and they wish for them to sprout within a peaceful world. One where they can play in and have fun as children should; a far cry from the walled in military they grew up in.
The couple stare at each other once more before leaning in for a quick kiss on the lips. Jean breaks it first for his response:
“I wish for that to come much sooner.”
