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“Does Salt know how to keep his hands off you?” Hollyberry had chuckled behind a glass of wine after White Lily announced her fifth, yes fifth, pregnancy at a group meet up. It was made in good fun because there’s no hatred towards her husband, it’s just a joke that started after Matcha was born six years ago.
”Are you okay?” Dark Cacao asked, genuine concern lacing his rough voice from besides Pure Vanilla whose smiling at the happy news. Having one kid was enough for him, Dark Choco was a handful, especially since Frost’ passing but he’s surviving. Five children sounded like a lot of work. “I mean, Salt is very busy—“
”Doesn’t he get months off at a time?” Hollyberry cut in.
It was true, Silent Salt might run an army but he can take a lot of time off when he needs. Salt Cellar effortlessly takes over without a complaint, especially because the time off is because of his children. Children their father as much as they need their mother after all. It was a necessary reason for time off.
”Yes. He should be picking up Matcha from school now actually,” White Lily mutters as she checks the time on her phone, realising just how long they’ve been at their dinner catch up. “I should go.”
”Come on Lily have a—“ Golden Cheese coughed, interrupting herself. “Oh yeah. Sorry.” She grins awkwardly.
”It’s fine! But I should go,” She responds, taking an adequate amount of money from her purse to cover her side of food and drinks. “I’ll text you all later!”
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9 months of pregnancy was basically nothing for White Lily, especially since it’s the fifth time. But labour was still incredibly painful, exhausting but rewarding. By no means was it her shortest labour (that had been Matcha, though that had been because of a c-section and that had gone surprisingly well), but definitely not her longest either. After the usual check ups, vaccines and tests, she was free to go after some days in hospital.
Silent Salt was at the door at least half an hour before how wife was home, Pure Vanilla had offered to drop her off because he’d been handling a sick Venom Dough. He hadn’t waited to sweep his wife off her feet into a one-handed princess carry, other hand holding onto his youngest’s pram to bring both inside.
”You okay my dear?” He mutters, pressing a kiss to his wife’s forehead. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.” He continues as he gently sets White Lily on the couch, placing the pram up the side of the couch, Pom-Pom fast asleep peacefully swaddled. Salt rests on his knees, pressing a gentle kiss to his wife’s knuckles. “If Venom wasn’t sick—“
”I know,” White Lily say reassures, cupping her husband’s face in her hands to lean down to kiss him. A gentle press of lips, a slow sign of affection that was often shared between the couple. “Venom needed you to stay here and take care of them. I had Pure Vanilla there anyways.”
From down the hallway, 8-year old Red Velvet padded out of his room, grumbling as he walked down the hallway into the living room. He stared from the doorway for a few moments, watching his parents interact as they usually did— full of love and affection and support. What they built their marriage upon.
”Venom’s coughing again,” He calls out. The sudden voice making the parents jump, Silent Salt straight on his feet again and White Lily just jumped until she winched in pain. Not a good thing.
”Right,” Silent Salt sighs, heart rate calming down gradually after realising it’s just Red Velvet. “Keep your mother company while I go check on them, okay?” Red Velvet nodded.
A silence fell over the room after Salt left, and Lily just stood up to look at Pom-Pom in her pram. Sleeping peacefully as she should be.
Red Velvet pulled himself up onto the couch arm, looking down at his new baby sister. Of course he was old enough to know what was happening by the time Venom was on the way, he just didn’t know he was getting a sister. Nor that she would be so small, so sickly looking.
”Is she okay?” He asked, voice quiet to keep from waking the baby.
”She will be,” White Lily answers softly, brushing a finger over the baby’s cheek. So much love in her eyes at the sight of her new born like there had been (and always will be) for any of her children.
”She will be.”