--Dahlia POV--
"Mama?" My son called one night as I sat up beside him in his bed, hands stroking through his hair as I attempted to lull him to sleep.
"What is it?" I called.
"Am I weird?" Blinking in surprise at the unexpected question, I looked down at him, but he was too busy fiddling with his fingers to look up at me.
"What makes you think that?" I asked.
"At school, the other kids said they didn't want to hang out with me cause I'm weird. Because I read books they don't understand, and because I'm always acting like I'm better than them... Is that true? Do I act like that?" He finally turned to look at me.
"Gio... Are they bullying you?" I pulled him up to sit on my lap sideways, moving his head to rest on my shoulder as I hugged him to me tightly.
We, as his family, accept him for who he is, but I never thought to entertain the fact that there could be others out there that didn't see him the way we did, and as a mother, I never want to have to entertain the prospect of my child getting bullied.
"Not really. My feelings aren't hurt, I'm just curious."
"Are you sure?" He nodded.
"Don't worry, mama. Those kids know better than to bully me, they won't get anything good out of it." He shrugged nonchalantly, truly looking as though he didn't mind. "But you didn't answer my question... Am I weird?" He went back to the apparent topic at hand.
"I don't know... Are you?" I laughed as he glared at the answer, unsatisfied.
"That's why I'm asking you, mama."
"We're all a little bit weird, but I do hope that you won't go changing who you are just because others say you're weird."
"So, I am weird?"
"Yes. But as I've just said, so are we all."
"So, you and papa are weird too?"
"I guess so."
"How?"
"Well, there are things that I do that others might not even think of doing, but it's so normal for me that they would deem it weird. And don't even get me started on your papa."
"So... You're unique?" If not for the fact that he was chasing after his father's job title of being a chairman, then my son will probably grow up to become a philosepher.
"Yes. Like you. And your papa. And your Nonna and Nonno..."
"...Oh..." He looked up ahead of him, eyes wide as if he'd just seen the world in a new perspective, and I could already hear the hundreds of new questions he'll be asking me before he's even opened his mouth.
"But mama..."
"Yes, Gio?" I chuckled, kissing him atop the head.
"Are you happy that I'm your child?" Expect this child to ask the most unexpected questions with the most obvious answers at random of times with no prior warning.
"Why that sudden question?"
"I'm just thinking..." He's always thinking, I'm afraid a bit much sometimes. "All the other kids are so much livelier... Do you wish I was like them?" Hearing my long sigh, he turned his head to look at me, curious as I stole the chance to peck his forehead.
"My darling little boy, let me tell you this now, and let me tell you well... Of all the people in this vast universe, none of them bring me as much happiness as you do. I didn't give birth to them, I gave birth to you, and I am so excited to see the kind of wonderful human you will someday become. Trust me when I say that; You are my life."
"...Really?"
"Was my poetry not good enough for you?" Finally, as I'd been waiting to hear, he let out a little laugh, picking his arms up to hug me tightly as I hugged him back just as tight.
"I go away for a few minutes and you both completely forget about me." At the entrance of the new voice, we both turned to look at the doorway, but before we could, he had enveloped us both in his arms, hugging us tightly.
"I love hugs too, you know." We laughed into his arms as he kissed both my head and his son's with all his love.
"Yes, I am unbelievably happy that you are my son, dear Gio. Don't ever question it," Poking his nose, he giggled shyly, coddled in the arms of his parents, and I cherished this beautiful sight, pulling him closer to me.
"And what about me? Are you happy that I'm your husband?" Marcos asked with a raised brow as I pretended to think about it, much to his dissatisfaction.
"You mischievous little wife of mine," And jumping forward, he grabbed me in his arms, Gio getting squished between us, and despite both mine and my sons' retorts, my dear husband joyfully laughed in our faces in reply.
As we all lay in bed a few minutes later, finished with playing around, Gio lay in between his father and I as I stroked his hair back in my second attempt to lull him to sleep today.
"And guess what, Gio?" I whispered.
"Yeah?" He called.
"One day soon, you won't be an only child anymore." His eyes widened, surprised, a rare expression that we don't get to see on his face very often, and Marcos let it slip as he burst into a large smile from his side of the bed, but thankfully, Gio's eyes were focused on me so he didn't try to quickly hide his surprise as usual.
"You mean..."
"Yes, mama and papa will finally give you a sibling." I leaned down, kissing his forehead.
"So, starting tomorrow, you should help us pick out some names. We don't know if it'll be a sister or brother for you yet, so you need to find some girl and boy names to pick from. Okay?" Marcos said, putting his son into deep thought a moment later.
"Do you want a sister or brother?" I curiously asked.
"I don't mind. But a sister would be nice..." A sister it is then.
"I'm sorry it took so long, but you won't need to be lonely anymore. Finally." I kissed him once more, and now it was his turn to share some poetic words with me.
"It's okay, mama. I know you always try your best," Words I didn't know I needed to hear, trust my son to be the one to encourage his parents like this.
"Do you, now?" I raised an entertained brow as he firmly nodded his head in reply.
"I love you no matter what." And now he's taken me by surprise, for real this time. If it wasn't already obvious, my son, Giovanni Romano, isn't a child that openly showed affection, let alone shared words such as I love you. But, I guess tonight is an exception.
"I love you too." It only made me cherish the few moments that much more.
"And I love you both the most." Marcos chimed in.
And so, eight months later, I successfully gave birth to a healthy daughter. We named her Lilliana Romano, hoping for the pure and innocence of her soul to remain till the end of time.
My happy family wasn't a big one, but we were a happy one. And although there were days of anguish, regret, and displeasure, we found peace at the end of it. And that's all that really mattered, right?
...
THE END.