Chapter Text
The snow fell gently on the sloped roof tops, fluttering down into mounds of fluffy whiteness. Pale grey smoke waltzed out of multiple brick chimneys across the valley.
It was an hour after dusk had settled over the quiet town, bringing with it the promise of a cozy night’s rest.
Mika rushed towards her home, using her shawl as a makeshift head cover to protect herself from the snow. The shop had too many pending orders accumulating and she couldn’t let them pile up.
Her boots pressed the powder accumulating on the ground, naturally slowing her pace. But she couldn’t risk being later than she already was. She had promised her son they would make honey milk together. Honey was rare to come by where they lived. Rare and expensive. Yet her husband, with his work that required occasional travel to the plains, had brought a bottle of the golden delicacy.
Gray had been over the moon, turning the glass bottle over and over to witness the slow movement of the viscous liquid inside. He had admired it with such wonder, which only increased when he finally got to taste it.
Since then, every sixth day of a week, the three got together to drink honey milk. Or, for Gray, whenever he felt poorly, a cup of sweet goodness never did any harm.
When the wooden fence of her home came into sight, she could only smile in relief. It could only widen when, through the glass window, she spied a small red pompom moving about, too small to look outside for his mom, yet trying all the same.
It only took a knock for the door to fly open and strong loving arms to pull her inside. The warm air of their home welcomed her, wrapping around her like a much-needed blanket, followed by the arms. Mika let her bag fall the small distance to the floor, hugging her husband back.
“Ma!”
Silver stepped back, helping Mika take off her outer clothes. The melting snow was quickly soaking into her inner layers. They had managed to remove her jacket just in time for their son to reach his mother and latch onto her leg.
“Ma!”
“Yes, ma is here, isn’t she?” Silver followed up, gathering all the clothes in his arms and taking them to the side.
Mika smiled, her heart blossoming into a thousand flowers. Her little baby looked up at her with such eager joy with his small beanie askew on his head- oh she wanted to gobble him up!
“Ma is back,” she replied, picking her son up in her arms and letting him rest against her torso.
He laughed, his hands coming to press on her cheeks, before hugging her around her neck. Too much joy inside such a small body, it didn’t know where to go.
Holding him in her arms, she headed inside. As expected, the milk was already put to a light simmer, and the small jar of honey was waiting right next to three mugs. Silver was standing next to a pot of, what she assumed, simmering stew from the delicious smell covering their whole kitchen.
“Hmm let’s see what is for dinner, shall we?” she asked, looking her son in the eyes. She couldn’t resist placing a kiss on his cheek, and then on his father’s when they reached him.
Silver smiled, turning off the burner for the milk.
“Melk!”
“Yes, milk! For you, and me, and ma!” He said, pointing at the Gray, himself, and then Mika. Their son was growing day by day, and as parents, they needed to teach him everything and more.
Nouns, numbers, big and small, long and short, more and less and, most importantly, to be loved. Without abandon. Because their son deserved it.
Mika stepped back to give Silver space as he took the pot off the burner and brought it to the table, quickly straining the steaming milk into the mugs waiting to receive the creamy liquid.
She watched her son’s eyes follow the steam, soon followed by his hand attempting to catch the wisps. Only to turn round when he opened his hand and found nothing inside.
While his son was sufficiently distracted, Silver made quick work of pouring honey in his and his wife’s mugs, leaving more than a spoonful in a wooden bowl.
Gray always wished to pour his own honey in, yet sadly, due to toddler debuff, more of it ended up on his hands than the mug. And it was way too expensive for them to go through their limited stash so quickly.
Mika sat down on one of the chairs, easing Gray into a sitting position on her lap. Her Gray, who was still looking up and down his hand, brows furrowed. But his expression quickly eased up when his father placed something in front of him.
A bowl of honey.
Gray’s eyes went wide, his hand darting to hold the spoon. He would have flung it off in excitement if not for Silver’s hand, who had already anticipated it, coming in to hold his son’s hand.
“Gentle baby,” he soothed him, steadying the small hand trembling from excitement. His son’s eyes didn’t even acknowledge him, latched onto the golden liquid dripping languidly off the spoon and back into the bowl.
Silver, with all the patience being a father had taught him, gently attempted to guide his son’s hand holding the spoon to the small mug of milk waiting to be sweetened.
Only for his son to one up him and put his other hand directly in the bowl of honey. All four fingers dived in and came back out, straight into Gray’s mouth.
Silver could only look. And look. And look again as the hand attempted to go back for a second dip if not for Mika stepping in and aborting the inopportune flight.
“Honey goes into milk, Gray.”
Gray looked at his hands, both held by his parents. He tugged on the one held by his mother, dripping with slobber and honey. His mother didn’t let go. He tried the other one, but his father was already dipping the honey spoon in the milk. A whine crept up his chest, looking at his parents with perceived affront. All he wanted was honey! His father gave it to him!
Silver took the bowl of honey and quickly emptied it into Gray’s milk while Mika made quick work of cleaning their son’s hand and mouth.
Gray watched the honey disappear into his mug, eyes wide and fixed. His mouth was still open, like maybe if he waited long enough, the taste would come back on its own.
“Done,” Silver said, setting the bowl down.
“No,” Gray said at once, voice small but certain. His torso leaned over the dining table, arms stretching to reach the bowl, causing Mika to tighten her hold onto him, lest he slip off and fall.
“No?” Silver echoed, raising a brow.
Gray pointed at the empty bowl, “More?”
“There’s no more,” Mika said, wiping the last bit of honey from his chin.
“More,” he insisted, louder this time, trying to lean forward even more. His legs kicked once against her knee.
Silver turned the bowl over to show him, “See? All gone, it’s in your milk. Don’t you like your honey milk?”
Gray looked into his cup, unconvinced, and then back at the empty bowl, “Bowl?”
“The bowl’s finished, baby,” Mika said, picking up her son’s mug and bringing it near his lips, “Drink your milk.”
Gray stared at it for a long moment, the steam curling soft in front of his face. Then, as if his memories had reloaded of how much he had begged for this same thing over the days, he grabbed the mug with both hands and took a long sip. He paused halfway, swallowing thickly, then continued drinking.
“Sweet,” he said, taking a deep breath like a swimmer coming up for oxygen.
Silver let out a breath through his nose, half sigh, half laugh, “Good?”
“Sweet!” Gray repeated, more certain this time, before pushing the mug toward his mother, “Ma, Sweet?”
Mika took a sip from the same spot, meeting his earnest eyes over the rim, “Sweet,” she agreed.
That seemed to settle it.
Gray leaned back against her chest, letting his mother hold his mug and help him drink his milk.