#finished request!

he loved telling you his favorite things about the morning, how he embraces the way the earth seems to shake off the night and stretch into the warm hope of the day. how he always meant to personify the night and day but never managed to string a sentence together sound right enough to put to paper.

you'd laugh gently and tell him he was never one for cliches, because there isn’t a single writer alive who hasn’t tried to bring that battle to life. he'd just smile and shake his head, look back towards the city, and begin to walk as he twirled a piece of brittle grass between his fingers.

but all of that was so long ago, you realize. a sweet memory, ivy-held in a long-forgotten cavern of your mind.

in more recent times, pete stays up late to care for the baby while you rest. he assures you he likes it better this way, having sealed his promise with a warm kiss.

"i think of it like lil adventures between me n' the kid, y'know?" he'd tells you with a smile plastered on his face. seeing the way he had smiled and the way his eyes had flickered with happiness, you knew to believe him, to believe that he was genuinely enjoying the late nights shared between just him and the baby.

late nights where pete would sing or hum various different songs while driving, chasing after the moon through forest-lined roads with the baby in the back. car rides always seemed to lull the baby to sleep. even when the pain from teething overwhelmed them both, when the baby would wail in distress and pete could feel his heart shattering within his chest, driving was always the immediate go-to to soothe the both of them.

slightly later on in life, when the baby has sprouted into a toddler, pete found himself commonly walking to the closet to retrieve paints and papers, never bothering to bring brushes.

the two of them loved finger painting and, while you weren't exactly in love with the mess paint-covered hands had the tendency to create, you loved watching them and the way they interacted.

plus, more often than not, you'd end up with a specially-made piece of art from both of your loves, which usually more than made up for whatever mess ended up at your kitchen table. he was always so, so gentle, which was to be expected given he thought of your child as the most precious thing his hands have held, although you do come in at a very close second.

when the baby reaches preschooler age, they become obsessed with all things animal-related, meaning the three of you often find yourselves spending family-time at the zoo, where pete finds joy in reading aloud the descriptions of the animals to a pair of very eager-to-learn ears sat up high on his shoulders, where they could better see whichever animal in its encloser.

there are nights, however, when the moon is high and the kid is fast asleep, where pete is quiet as he expresses his uncertainties of fatherhood to you.

he tells you parenting books can only take you so far, which you can't help but agree with. there's never going to be a book that perfectly prepares you for all things parenthood, that you're both sure of.

but having lost his father at such a young age, there's this "instilled insecurity" as he calls it, where he remains unsure of whether or not he's being a good dad, almost constantly doubting his parenting skills.

you take his hand gently into your own, beginning to explain away some of your own uncertainties, reminding him that he's not alone in this.

within an instant, something simply flicks on in his brain and he lunges at the chance to tell you what a truly amazing mother you are; how endlessly you amaze him with your ability to soothe and settle your kid- even on the most restless of nights, how you always seem to have a solution to whatever issue may arise, how lucky your kid is to have you as a mother and how lucky and thankful he is to have you as a partner- you have to kiss him to shut him up, otherwise he'd go on all night about how wonderful of a mother and partner you are.

when you tell him that he just put to words exactly how you feel about him, his mind and heart settle some. he knows you're right; knows he can trust the words you speak and that he can find genuine security in them.

The grogginess you felt started to melt away little by little as you realized he must have gotten home early from filming the movie that he had been working on. A sleepy smile began to grow on your face, though it was hidden from Pete given he was flush to your spine, spooning you close under the warm blankets. Already, he'd been so attentive, constantly reading some new article that either told him something that'd help make you feel better (a recipe for morning sickness, a calming tea, a balm- anything, as long as it helped) or something that'd help make him feel better about the great unknown the two of you were headed towards.

“Just four more months, kid.” You mutually agreed to wait to find out the gender of the baby, so Pete had really taken to calling the baby a variety of gender-neutral terms.

“Four more months 'till I get to meet you.” His hand drifted from the top of your swelling belly to the bottom, making sure to caress every inch possible. He wanted to make it known to you and your unborn baby how much he loved you both. He'd even decided to go weed and alcohol-free during your pregnancy because he felt it'd be unfair to you.

“Four more months 'till I get to hold you.” Your mind instantly imagined what Pete would look like holding your child. You were already happy and content as could be, but the mental image of Pete cradling your baby’s head while cooing softly made you ecstatic. You couldn’t wait to meet and hold your child for the first time; to hear their first laugh and to see their first smile, knowing through it all, you'd have your best friend at your side to help you in any comprehensible way.

The baby swirled around in your stomach a little, kicking up into Pete's hand. You feel air rush from his lungs, and you smile more to yourself knowing he must've felt that shared awe between the both of you.

You sit up, beginning to stretch the sleep from your bones with a yawn “Morning,” You croak out, smiling as you rub the sleep from your eyes. God, Pete was always so effortlessly pretty in the morning; hair messy and wild on his head, cool-toned shadows softly hugging his features.

“It's almost 1 actually,” Pete corrects with a smile and a chuckle, pressing his plump lips to yours sweetly before mumbling a gentle “but good morning to you too.”

“Wait- what?” Quickly, you pull back to look at your boyfriend's face in disbelief. “Shit, really?” You let out a groan, letting your head fall forward in exasperation. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Your boyfriend only smiles at you, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “I mean, we were up really late last night and you looked like you could use the rest.” Pete explains softly, his warm hand now cupping your cheek, thumb stroking the space under your eye. “Besides, it’s the weekend. That, and you're super beautiful when you sleep.”

A blush slowly dusts over your cheeks as you playfully roll your eyes, sighing softly. "I wanted to make breakfast with you," You say, and Pete throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close to his chest.

"We can make lunch instead. I've been really craving soup- must be something with the weather." He says, smiling down at you.

"Deal," You say, smiling up at him with lovely and pure adoration in your gaze.

"Do ya want anything to drink? Coffee, tea?" Pete asks, slowly leaving your side.

Feeling your heart begin to melt from his thoughtfulness, you nod. "Coffee sounds perfect right about now, thanks."

"Anytime, babe." He leans down to press his lips softly to your forehead, and a gentle, content sigh leaves your body as you look up to him, watching him turn to leave.

A smile again graces your features "Hey, Pete?"

He halts in his tracks, turning to look at you "What's up?"

"I love you." You say, and it's Pete's turn to blush now, though he's quick to look down in an attempt to hide it. Watching the soft pink spread across Pete's features never fails to bring complete and utter joy to your being, overwhelming in how whole it leaves you feeling.

"I love you too," He says, and you can't help but think how strange it is to have been able to watch someone fall in love with you. To stare at the freckles in his irises as he runs warm fingers across the bones of your face.

He always kisses your head the way people do in the movies and dances with you in the kitchen when you're finished with your food.

Love-drunk as you watch him disappear from view, you find yourself settling back down into the bed as you pull your blankets back up to your chest. Thunder softly rumbles in the distance, and you can't help but breathe deeply as the sheets faintly smelt of him, closing your eyes once more.