Harper
The endearment makes him glow from within as if summoned by the choice in name, and he spares her a soft look over his shoulder before he shuts the door behind him to give her the privacy she needs to ready herself for the day. He may have seen her in all manner of dress, but he’s a gentleman all the same.
Jude greets him happily, waving little fists in the air that latch onto his clothes as soon as Harper is close enough to be grabbed. Chuckling, he noses the thickening hair on the babe’s head. Already five months old, he was beginning to babble and already knew his and Maeve’s faces. It amazed Harper how quickly he was growing, how fast the human mind could develop. His heart felt swollen with love as he fed his son, imagining the swiftly approaching days when Jude would be able to test out solid foods. He wants so desperately to know his son’s favorites, his quirks and dislikes, to see him begin to develop a personality all his own. Once fed Harper gets him dressed, wrestling with the wriggly, chubby arms and blowing happy bubbles on the babe’s belly.
So absorbed in interacting with his son - as happens embarrassingly often - he doesn’t notice Maeve’s approach for a moment, though when he does he grins and happily hands over Jude when she swoops down eagerly upon the babe. Jude giggles excitedly, very newly capable of the feat and exemplifying it every day as he wrinkles his nose up at Maeve and clutches at her blouse. “Wriggly as always,” he comments playfully, leaving Jude in Maeve’s arms to retrieve the picnic basket and backpack he left on the sitting room table. Returning to Maeve he loops an arm around her waist and kisses her cheek. “Ready to go? Want me to bring the sling or stroller?” He already has most of Jude’s supplies in the backpack, but the larger items remained in the entryway closet for them to retrieve as they went out the door depending on if Maeve wanted to dedicate to playing pass-the-baby. Neither of them ever seemed to mind - both of them always wanting Jude close, unbothered by the burden of having their arms full.
Jude greets him happily, waving little fists in the air that latch onto his clothes as soon as Harper is close enough to be grabbed. Chuckling, he noses the thickening hair on the babe’s head. Already five months old, he was beginning to babble and already knew his and Maeve’s faces. It amazed Harper how quickly he was growing, how fast the human mind could develop. His heart felt swollen with love as he fed his son, imagining the swiftly approaching days when Jude would be able to test out solid foods. He wants so desperately to know his son’s favorites, his quirks and dislikes, to see him begin to develop a personality all his own. Once fed Harper gets him dressed, wrestling with the wriggly, chubby arms and blowing happy bubbles on the babe’s belly.
So absorbed in interacting with his son - as happens embarrassingly often - he doesn’t notice Maeve’s approach for a moment, though when he does he grins and happily hands over Jude when she swoops down eagerly upon the babe. Jude giggles excitedly, very newly capable of the feat and exemplifying it every day as he wrinkles his nose up at Maeve and clutches at her blouse. “Wriggly as always,” he comments playfully, leaving Jude in Maeve’s arms to retrieve the picnic basket and backpack he left on the sitting room table. Returning to Maeve he loops an arm around her waist and kisses her cheek. “Ready to go? Want me to bring the sling or stroller?” He already has most of Jude’s supplies in the backpack, but the larger items remained in the entryway closet for them to retrieve as they went out the door depending on if Maeve wanted to dedicate to playing pass-the-baby. Neither of them ever seemed to mind - both of them always wanting Jude close, unbothered by the burden of having their arms full.
When you're lost I'll show you the way back home
I'll stay until the morning comes, and show you how to live again
I'll stay until the morning comes, and show you how to live again
