Hushed Willows You can polish me for hours, but I'll always look best in your head

healing came slowly for boone. his fever had broken, and he now spent most of his days lounging beside his wife; all knew to come to him if he was needed.
her pregnancy had smoothed somewhat, and boone took a moment every morning to thank the heavens for this. unease had thawed into excitement, his own boyish glee that she grew with his children. their children!
he did not question why her mouth was encased 'round his foot. he knew better than to piss off the pregnant lady. instead, his gaze settled upon her in adoration. snowflake? he didn't want to laugh, and yet he could not hide the small snicker. i was thinkin' somethin' more like, uh, i don't know. how 'bout annabelle? is that too boring?