Chapter Text
The night was calm, only the faint pitter-patter of the rain was heard in the dimly lit of his bedroom. Their bedroom. No matter how many days, months, or perhaps years they had had spent time together or anything together, yet word ours still felt strange in his tongue.
Gentle hush and soft hums captured his attention to the person in his bed. In their bed.
"Hey, none of that." He heard her whispers.
Hannibal walked closer to the bed, witnessing the tiny creature was fussing about in her arms. Delicate hands soothed the tiny creature's whimper in a magical way just as they soothed vulnerable beings in the most twisted and sickening way quite some time ago.
But not today.
Today the hands offered warmth and gentlest touch. Much like they did every night even before the little ones came in to the world.
Hannibal sat beside the woman with the tiny creature in her arms. Blessed with a sight that he swore he never seen something so meaningful before.
He saw her fight to keep her eyes opened.
"You should have just let me give him the bottle." He scooted closer.
"You know he never settles for that thing. Not like her." She glanced to the tiny one dressed in yellow footsie, sleeping soundly in the safe of her own wooden cradle.
His eyes followed to where she glanced, smiling. Then back to look at the sight of the boy’s cherubic hand patting against his mother's chest as he nursed contently.
"Picky." He muttered, half-smiling.
"Can you blame him." Even in her sleepy state she could still raise one of her eyebrows at him. Her tone was implying directly as where the child's behaviour was inherited from.
"He's so hungry," Hannibal ran his index finger over the thick sandy blonde hair the little one's posessed. It was a few shades darker than the other one’s hair, he noted. She had her mother’s shade, while her brown orbs’ were his. But they both had her colouring.
"Hmm. He skipped his feeding this evening." Bedelia nodded sleepily as she tried to surpress a yawn. "Went straight to bed."
Soft smile crept on Hannibal's face as he watched how their son was suckling greedily from his mother's breast. He lifted one chubby arm to reach his father's chin as his blue eyes looked up at his. Il a les yeux de sa mère, he remembered a woman said the words when they walked around the small city of south France they infrequently went to. He too still could remember the annoyed look Bedelia flashed, when the woman playfully touched the hand of the little boy’s in her arms. She knew the woman meant no harm or anything, but Bedelia was Bedelia.
The smile on his face went bigger as he now kissed the tiny little fingers. Soft gurgles escaped the child's lips, making him chuckled.
"Now Theo, don't try to talk when you are eating." He tried to sound stern but the child kept cooing, ignoring his father's warn.
From the corner of his eyes Hannibal could see Bedelia smiled with her eyes now closed.