sowing

You're sitting on the couch again, legs stretched out towards him, and he's flashing in the kitchen, bending down to look into the fridge. You can barely see what he's doing - you're obscured by his incredible height. "What are you looking at? Do you want to reach the moon?" you tease him, but he just grins, straightens up, and there he is again in all his six-foot glory. Handsome, tall - like the hero of some romantic movie. Next to him, with your height, you look like his little sister, and sometimes - like a child.

• Are you eating candy again, little one?) - his voice sounds like a soft reproach, and before you can say anything, he easily picks you up in his arms. As if you really are a tiny thing. - Come on, let's go to bed. It's time for the kids.

• Hey! - you protest, but laugh, hugging him around the neck. - Put me in my place! I'm a grown woman!

“Of course, of course, an adult,” he nods, but he rocks you in his arms like a small child. His movements are measured, confident, and you know he’s joking… but sometimes there’s more to these games. He wants children. You see it in his gaze, in these careful, almost parental gestures.

• listen.. I know I've already asked you this, but I'll ask again, let's have a baby?)