Zlatan leant against the doorframe and just watched how she tucked his sons into bed. In each and every move she made to wrap them up good, the way they liked it -Vincent getting the extra no gap anywhere where the monsters could reach him treatment- was so much love and caring it warmed his heart in a way it wouldn't be possible again.
After the sudden passing of his wife, he'd been devastated. His career had also been in ruins, his knee busted in the accident, he'd had nothing to turn to that could distract him. During that first year, the only thing that had kept him alive had been his sons. He'd had to pull himself together for them but that'd only been a facade. When no one had seen him, when no one had been around he'd broken down over and over again, every minute of the day when he'd been alone, every second of every night.
The second year had gotten somewhat better. His recovery had gone way better than expected despite of his age. He'd gotten into a routine that had worked for both of the boys and for him. But it'd still been just existing. He'd run on autopilot, done what he'd needed to do in his personal and professional life but the passion had been gone.
If anyone'd told him a year ago that he'd be hearing his sons calling someone mother, not only he'd have laughed into their face, he'd have also punched them. He couldn't imagine anyone taking over his late wife's place ever. He couldn't imagine anyone could be his sons mother. He couldn't imagine he could fall for someone again. Nor had he wanted any of those things. That had been until the day when a smartmouthed redhead had walked into him on the street, poured hot coffee all over him and sent him to hell in such a colourful way that for the first time in years he'd laughed; he'd laughed so fullheartedly his entire being shook with it like a bandaid had been pulled off.
He was over 30, a widower, a football player with a barely standing career, a father of two and that stubborn, cussing woman made her feel brand new somehow. He'd been chasing her for nearly half year, something he'd never in his life had to do. When they'd met with his wife, they'd both known they'd belonged and that'd been it. But this time was completely different.
This woman was a true challenge, everyday he might add. She was headstrong, just as much as him. She was a smartass, also just as much as him. She'd never doubted herself and always knew what she wanted. There was no messing around with her. When his ass needed to be kicked, she never hesitated. When he just needed someone to listen to him, she was always there. And when he just needed to sit in silent she knew just to hold his hand.
Most importantly, she'd swept his boys off their feet just as fast as she'd done it to him. It'd been love at first sight for them, too. Since she was around the house became full of life again. His sons were beaming with happiness and that was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Laughter filled the previously dead silent walls and sometimes he wondered how he got so lucky that he got a second chance like that.
She smiled up at him when the boys slowly dozed off after some terrible Last Boyscout resembling story she told them and he nodded to her to go outside.
"I could use a glass of wine. What do you think? We could just sit on the porch a little." He pulled her to his body and brushed his lips over hers softly. She tasted like chocolate and coffee, and something else that reminded him of flowers, something he was yet to figure out.
"I think that from time to time even you have good ideas." She grinned up at him before moved out of his hold and grabbed a blanket from the couch.
"I think maybe you don't need that booze seeing as though you're already this smart." He chuckled as he walked to the fridge and took a bottle of dry white wine out before he followed her.
"I'm always smart, you should be used to that by now. How would I put up with you otherwise?" She laughed, her voice tinkled through the tiny snowflakes that fell from the sky.
"Remember, millions of women would kill for this perfection." He grinned at her, poured some wine into her glass and handed it to her.
"Just because they don't know you," she replied with a wicked smile on her face as she sipped her drink.
"If they knew me, they just wouldn't be able to stop admiring, and it'd be a mess, fan letters day by day, signing their panties..."
"Well, thank God, I'm immune to your devilish charms then, all my clothes would be ruined by your nasty handwriting." He laughed out as he sat down, and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders before he took a sip of his drink too.
"Now instead I could mark your soul." He sighed and leant back in his chair, just watching the ground slowly turning white in front of his eyes.
"You're getting sappy at your old age." She chuckled and turned towards him, placed her feet in his lap.
"Just don't tell anyone." He laughed, his fingers lightly wrapped around her ankle and he sighed contently.
"Your secret is safe with me unless I have to blackmail you for something," she joked and laid her head against the back of the chair, watching the snowflakes dancing in circles before hitting the ground.
He moved his gaze to her and just watched. He loved how her cheeks turned rosey in the chilly air, the tiny freckles appearing more as the cold touched her skin, her hair laid out over her shoulders and her best feature, her bright green eyes and how they sparkled all the time, so full of life, intelligence, wit and wonders.
"Are you staring at me?" She asked without looking at him.
"I am." He nodded and pulled her by her legs so she'd end up in his lap.
"Why are you staring at me?" She turned her head to his, her hand moved to softly caress his cold cheeks.
"Why not?" He shrugged lightly. When they'd met and he'd realized what a never returning chance he'd gotten, he'd made up his mind to do this right, and enjoy every moment they shared.
"Because my hair is a mess, it's likely I have food colouring on my face, maybe in my hair, and if you make fun of me, I'll throw Max's cake into your face and he'll be very upset in the morning, and for the record, I'll say it was your fault," she explained, sighed dramatically and he laughed with a shake of his head.
"You're beautiful, and green is suits you." He grinned and kissed her cheek where there was indeed some food colouring left.
"You're on a roll here with the charming business, Mister." She giggled lightly and leant her head over his shoulder. "Hit me with your best shot. Don't let it be stuck in you."
"I wish we could stay like this forever," he whispered, rested his chin on the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her tightly. She looked up at him and sighed softly, her lips brushed over his featherlightly, her hot breath warming his mouth and her soul warming his being. She understood his fears, his concerns, she understood it all and she knew when there was no need to say a word.
