Drabbles for drabbles100
Carefully he added the last bit of paint to the walls, moving a strand of hair from off of his face, leaving a mark across his cheek. He got off of the ladder and looked around - it looked perfect, absolutely perfect.
The walls were pink, the carpet a darker pink, the cot white but with pink bedding, brown teddy perched on top . He could hardly disguise his happiness as he made sure everything was the way it should be before making his way downstairs to let Rose know, having managed to keep this a surprise for this long.
He carefully ran his fingers over the black, velvet box, taking a deep, shuddering breath. He opened it, the simple diamond surrounded by a dark gold band glittered up at him. He stared at it for a long while, his eyes following each contour and line, a small, almost sad smile crossed his features.
He took another long breath. Was there even a chance that she would say yes? Could he even hope that? Sighing deeply he closed it again with a dull thud , placing it safely in the box on the top shelf of the wardrobe;
“One day…”
“Blow the candles out, John” he said to his son, the strains of ‘Happy Birthday’ fading as they finished. Rose, who was holding John, let him get as close as she dared before all but blowing them out herself, the room dissolving into a loud cheer.
Henry carefully reached over cutting the cake, handing out the first piece to Rose before starting on the others and handing them out to each in turn.
“Cake, then presents” he said with a grin, looking around the room at everyone who had gathered to help them celebrate.
He was the luckiest man alive.
He grins widely, his eyes filling as she is placed into his arms and again, just like last time he is filled with love, devotion, a father’s joy and he’d never felt so high as he did at this moment - her brown eyes, so like her mothers looking up at him.
He knew at that moment that he was done for, she had already wrapped him around her finger with little more than a look.
He was hers just as surely as he was her mother’s.
“Andrea Rose Marie” he whispered, stroking her cheek and listening to her sigh.
The snow ball hit him before he had time to move, to duck - her laughter filling the air. He rubbed his forehead and without letting his eyes drop he scooped up a handful of snow, rushing her. She sidestepped out the way of his attack and began to run.
He chased after her, grabbing her leg and sending them crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs and laughter. Seizing the chance he stuffed his handful of snow down her back watching her try and squirm away as it melted.
“Got You” he whispered close to her ear.