He hadn't realized she had come home. LADYBUG was in the room they started to assemble a nursery in. With earbuds in and his shaggy hair pulled back in a small ponytail, it was clear he was putting a lot of thought into his endeavor. LADYBUG finished painting the last line of the latest wing and lifted his stencil away. The pastel pink outline of a butterfly joined the ranks of the small cloud of moths and butterflies LADYBUG had dutifully painted across one of the nursery's pale walls. Judging by the garbage bags laid on the carpet with paper plates of paint and splatters on the plastic as well as the number of beautiful insects, he had been at this activity for a while. Thankfully, with the window wide open, he hadn't inhaled too many paint fumes, but the evidence of his luck was elsewhere.
The two different t - shirts LADYBUG attempted to wear while painting were now streaked with light oranges and blues and laid balled up on his makeshift carpet covers. Dripping paint now decorated his bare torso instead of fabric. LADYBUG's jeans held a few marks of their own, but he didn't seem too bothered with them.
LADYBUG turned to pick up the moth stencil and froze at the sight of Melissa in the door. He smiled and removed his earbuds. "I didn't think you'd be home yet," LADYBUG confessed, stepping with great care around his supplies. "I found these yesterday. Thought they might go good with the theme for the little bugs, so I decided to try surprising you. We can always paint over it again if you don't like it."
LADYBUG bent down to kiss her belly first in greeting. He straightened after and pressed his lips to Melissa's affectionately. An arm wound around her waist as they embraced. Once they were parted, LADYBUG frowned and wrinkled his nose. "I'm pretty sure . . . yeah, there's pink my ear. Whoops."
unscripted asks . always accepting
It was far too early for her to be back - there was still sunlight outside although sunset was fast approaching, and ordinarily that would mean that Melissa should be out for a few more hours. The former hostess had been used to trading mornings for nights where work was concerned, but over the last month... She had been steadily (but firmly) pushed away of her own business by her manager.
Konishi was getting scarier with each day - he was a more stern father figure than Melissa’s own parents in America. Perhaps it was because she was now very obviously pregnant - it was more difficult to hide when one expected twins, but her mother kept assuring her it was completely normal, and shared more than a few tidbits of how it had been for her before Rose and Heather were born.
But the second-in-command of the Honey Bee Inn wouldn’t hear of it - as far as he was concerned, she needed plenty of rest instead of walking around on her heels for hours per day. Melissa scoffed at his fussy behavior of late, but relented; giving in sometimes would make another day’s battle easier and she settled on going home to try and get some other things done. The brunette was craving some strange things - apple pie and mashed potatoes with garlic (not necessarily together), but she hadn’t anticipated that Ladybug would be at home... And so focused, too.
It was rather endearing - she had never imagined that he would be so excited to be a father. As everything with them - the pregnancy had been unexpected and a great stroke of luck, defying all the incredible odds at play. But despite the unconventional way their children had been conceived, she was healthy and so were the twins; from a medical perspective, the entire family was well and on track for the delivery at the right time.
“Yeah, me neither - Konishi may be organizing a coup behind my back for all I know,” she replied with a grin while watching the blonde man approaching, chuckling softly at the order he choose to say hello to his family and then returning his kiss with one of her own once Ladybug straightened up his spine. Melissa's eyes moved to his ear after his comment - and indeed, there was a tiny but noticeable trail of paint dripping from his ear, made even more visible considering how his hair had been pinned away for his work.
“You absolutely do,” she remarked with a giggle, eyes flickering to his face for a second then, “Honey, you may have more paint on yourself today than the time we went to paintball,” her words were a throwback to a fun experience - Ladybug had taken more than one hit intended for the ex-hostess to give her additional time in the game to shoot at others - the only thing he had not accounted for was the fact she needed no protection. Whatever training Melissa’s father had given to his daughters, years ago - she still remembered it.
As a result - the American needed at least two showers to get rid of all the paint, most of it staining his blonde hair and giving them both a hard time to come off. Well - at least the showers had been a shared, fun endeavor back then.
“But as far as the nursery goes... I think it’s looking adorable,” she mentioned after stepping away for a second, but just enough to look at the walls. The theme was an obvious one - and Melissa smiled fondly at the idea, a hand unconsciously going to her own belly and resting there while she took in the décor. They had named their children just a few weeks ago when the doctors were able to confirm the gender of the kids: a girl and a boy.
With a ladybug for a father and a bee for a mother, it was hardly surprising their offspring ended up named after a butterfly and a spider.
“Lysandra has plenty of representation - do you think we can find some spider ones for Rhene? Maybe closer to Halloween?” she pondered aloud, an arm encircling Ladybug again and looking at him once more - and this time, her eyes did a more detailed examination, going from the way he had pinned his hair away to the funny pattern of the paint splatters on his torso and the way the jeans hugged his frame.
A finger of hers went over then - and picked up enough fresh paint off his abdomen to draw a smiling face over a clean patch of skin. Grinning mischievously, Melissa offered a kiss to him as if it made up for her antics, and motioned her head towards the closest bathroom. “Why don’t we take a break from the nursery today? I need to feed these gremlins but we could shower first and I’ll try to scrub you clean of all the colors. Tomorrow I can help you finish here by ordering you around in true royal fashion,” she suggested by means of a murmur, her words a throwback to her ‘management style’, which was how he affectionately referred to his girlfriend’s ‘bossy nature’.
But the look in his eyes was playful as he nodded, bowing his head in a respectful fashion towards her. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”