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White lily couldn’t feel much after the pain, the agony seemed to reside slightly as the child was now in her arms. After he was born, Pure Vanilla left to get medicine and blankets, leaving a protective shield around them just in case.
White Lily was confused looking down at the child, he was chubby and small and frankly, quite funny looking. He had very little blonde hair on his head, his eyes were completely closed, his hands moved in odd ways, like an alien trying to act human. The first thing he saw must have been her, because the moment he was in her arms, he kept his gaze at her own. Eventually, being far too young to understand, he closed his eyes once more, sheilding the bright oceans of color from the outside world.
He was a tiny little thing, barely able to even lift his arms. He sniffled and whimpered in her arms, curling up like a pill bug.
White Lily turned her head as footsteps crunched beside her. She could faintly see Pure Vanilla walking back to her, in his arms were blankets, cushions and remedies. He had a soft look on his face, his smile wam and welcoming. He kneeled next to her, gently pushing some hair aside. “Has the pain receded any, love?” He asked, cupping her cheek gently. White lily nodded. “I’m not nauseous anymore, it feels much nicer..” She muttered, slowly blinking her tired eyes. Pure Vanilla smiled. “I’m glad.” He said, picking up the clear glass of crystal cold water and lifting it near her face. “You should drink dear, you lost a lot of energy.”
Lily yawned, thankfully taking the class in one hand and taking a long sip. The newborn in her other arm cooed, grabbing his hand with pudgy fingers. “I can take him off our hands for now, if you’d like.” Vanilla offered, gently plucking up the child with grace. Internally, White Lily was quite thankful for this. He was not a heavy baby, but he certainly was clingy… The little baby whined as he was pulled away, starting to sniffle as his father held him.
“I do wonder..” He whispered. “What shall we name him?” She completely forgot about the name! There were so many wonderful things they could call him… Maybe something related to the sky? Or a tree? What possibly could they name him?! “I didn’t even think about that.. Oh goodness, what should we name him!?” She yelped, clutching the blanket Pure Vanilla had layed over her. “Don’t fret dear, I-I’m sure we’ll think of something very nice..” He said, laying a hand on her own. White Lily sighed, lightening her grip and looking to the side where… She was met with a little sapling, an almond tree only now starting to sprout. Its little stems, barely branches yet, reached out as if exploring the world. Little blossoms curled up, not yet ready to bloom. It shone in the moonlight, swaying gently in the wind.
“Almond…” she muttered, her gaze unshifting from the little plant.
“You want almonds?” Pure Vanilla asked.
“N-no, Almond. An almond sapling, it looks like it just bloomed today..” She whispered, looking down at the baby. “Just like him…”
After a moment of silence, Pure Vanilla spoke. “Do you… like that name?” he asked quietly.
White Lily did not answer, just looked at the baby, which was now asleep in his father’s arms.
“Our… little Almond..” there was a twinkle in her eyes, a sort of knowing. Pure Vanilla smiled, gently stroking White Lily’s hair. “I think that’s a beautiful name…”
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“Please dear, rest. I will take care of Almond.” Pure Vanilla said, pushing stray hairs from White Lily’s face with his free hand, holding Almond with the other. She was far too tired not to go with rest, she was already half unconscious by the time he walked out. Almond was asleep too, bundled up in various blankets Lily insisted he’d love. His mouth was just barely open, tiny breaths hardly making a sound, even in the silence. The love Pure Vanilla felt for this child was monumental, he had spent the last nine months paranoid that something would happen to White Lily or the baby, constantly keeping check, making sure she was okay, baby proofing their home… It felt like such a rush, like their child ould come any second, but now it felt like time had stopped. Maybe the world stopped spinning for a moment, or time stopped moving, because when he looked at his child, nothing else mattered.
Pure Vanilla walked to a balcony, the bright night sky illuminating the beautiful scenery. The wind was soft, but still active, trees swayed gently.
A small sniffle broke him from the scene, a little whimper that turned into a whine. He looked down to see Almond awake, small face twisted in discomfort, sniffling and vocaloizing what was wrong. “Oh dear, what’s wrong little sproutling?” Pure Vanilla quietly asked, bringing a hand to the baby’s reddened face. Almond continued to cry, clinging onto his father like a lifeline. Pure Vanilla softened, lowering his face.. “Don’t worry, my dear sproutling, it’s okay..” he cooed, gently soothing the baby’s irritated mind. “You must be tired.. Are you hungry? I’m sure we can find something soft enough for yo-” but by the moment he finished, he felt two little hands gripping his outstretched finger. Almond had calmed down substantially, holding onto Pure Vanilla’s finger as if it was a stuffed animal. He froze, looking down at the child before his face morphed into a tearful smile. “Yes, my son, we are family.” he whispered, bringing his son closer and rubbing his forehead against his. The baby opened his eyes, looking up at his father. He had the most darling blue eyes, a cyan colour with golden flicks scattered in the iris. His eyes were wise, curious, needing to explore, he was an angel, so beautiful it made Pure Vanilla tear up.
The wind picked up slightly, causing Almond to curl up. “Ah, I guess we should get you to bed.” The new father chuckled, turning around and walking back inside. Reaching the bedroom, he opened the door. White Lily was fast asleep, her long, white hair splayed across the bed. Even in sleep she was dear. He gently stepped towards the cradle, careful not to awake his sleeping wife. He adjusted the blankets, making sure the baby’s head had enough support before carefully lowering him into it.
“Goodnight, my sweet sproutling.”