Guardian Angel [svt]

[Ten]

You're now a newlywed, married to the love of your life for less than a year. Your husband and you went on a honeymoon three months ago, it was the peak of your life.

When you're on your way home from the market to buy some groceries, a street performer caught your eye.

The man is busking with a guitar in hand, singing a mellow but sweet melody.

Caught in a trance, you stopped and let yourself drown in his voice, enjoying every second that passed. His voice is calming, and unlike his short stature, it was also really powerful and high.

It caught you off guard to know that even though he had such a beautiful voice, people rarely stop to hear him sing.

'It's their loss' you shrugged it off and giving him a huge applause when the song ends, putting your groceries down near your foot for a while.

You smiled at him, and when he noticed you, he done the same. He looks impressive when he sings as his expression is somber and full of pain according to the song, but you must say that his smile is even more adorable.

You come closer to express your admiration to his skills, carrying the groceries in hand. But luckily he did the same and come to you so that you don't have to walk any further with the heavy plastic bags.

"It was a wonderful performance"

He keeps his smile, as his ears and cheeks dusted with pink. The man looks more cuter now than he was when performing. Who knows that fairies actually blushed when you compliment them?

He bowed a bit before saying;

"Thank you, I'm glad you two enjoyed that."

You only nodded as he bowed and give you a firm handshake before packing his guitar and putting it in its case.

Confused, you looked around and wonder who did he meant by 'two' and found no one.

You shrugged it off, thinking that maybe you missed the other person, or that maybe he was mistaken.

You came home with groceries in hands, and setting everything down in the counter. It was getting a bit warm, so you then checked your every pocket to search for your hair band.

"Huh? Where did this guitar pick came from?"

You ask, more likely to yourself, as you examine the little pick that appeared from your pocket and found an initial engraved into it.

'WZ'

You wonder who could the owner of it be, and what the initials meant. Could it be a name? Could it be a special thing? Or maybe a nickname?

Not long after that event, you found out later that you're currently three months pregnant at the time, and the other person he meant is your unborn child.

-l.j.h-