#forgedbysirens

He had not even noticed she had been off recently. Sometimes he would worry over nothing when it came to her. Decima was so much like him, intelligent, secretive, controlled, collected, sometimes even manipulative like him too. Hiding her troubles from him seemed to be rather easy on her part, and though it troubled him from time to time, he couldn’t be more proud of the one he loved. She was perfect in every way.

So when he came back to where they called ‘home’ that day, he greeted her as he normally did, came back and sat down. But she seemed so quiet. Even nowadays, she still sometimes had trouble interrupting him even if he wasn’t doing anything important. A habit he tried to break out of her if he could.

Cicero’s foggy eyes stared up at her with a bit of an alarm. She seemed worried, contemplative. 

She says nothing, taking his hand in her’s. He smiles softly, not how he normally smiled to others, but his genuine smile. He saved it for her and her alone. Very gently, she traces the lines in his hands as she sometimes did, as if looking for guidance every so often. But then, she carefully placed his palm against her stomach and smiled. The assassin grinned back and patted her stomach lightly.

“Yes Miss Decima, I see you. And I missed you more than you-” He stops suddenly. Cicero’s fingertips very hesitantly trace her lower stomach, pressing gently into her recently firmed flesh. It wasn’t noticeable really, but he knew.

His eyes darted back up to her face, that smile. 

“You-?” He questions only for a split second before his hands grabbed her by the cloth of her gown and pulled her down into his lap as he sat in a chair.

“Amica mea~!” He practically squeaks, one hand glued to her stomach and his lips pressing to her temple, cheeks, and lips repeatedly. After a moment of initial excitement, he pulls her as close to him as he possibly can; burying his face into the crook of her neck.

“I prayed for this day to come for us.” He admits in almost a whisper. “I’m- You- We-” He kisses her neck, arms wrapping around her form in his lap. “I-” He begins to sniffle, squeezing her slightly. “I’m so happy...” Cicero had always wanted a family, and he didn’t want it with anyone else but her. Decima had been his entire universe for a very long time, in the excitement, he didn’t even think to ask if she was happy. 

He hadn’t cried since he was younger, but the wetness she felt against her neck was undoubtedly anything else. Regardless of how he tried to hide it.

“Decima, amore mio, I love you more than I have ever loved anything else in my entire life and I should have asked you sooner. This foolish man has nothing to really give you, I don’t even have any sort of ring to put on you if you wanted such a thing... But do you think you could marry this fool? I’d- no- I will do anything you ever ask of me. Please, no ‘Sir’s’, no ‘if that’s what you want’s’, be honest with me, I need to hear your honest answer. I know I’m not perfect but you are my everything.” Cicero wipes his tear stained face as he looks up into her eyes.