–Livana–
I looked at my mother, who still wasn't done with her quiet little act. She cared so much for Laura but could never show herself fully and truthfully. Caring for her… wanting Laura to feel a motherly love and warmth, even though she knew Laura still missed her real mother.
"I can't wait for your hair to grow longer," he muttered, and I grinned.
"I know."
I remember well how he used to touch my hair, brush it so gently. He does it every day after we got married. And back in high school—God—he would always sit behind me just to braid my hair or brush it. I ignored him then; wasting energy on him seemed pointless. But apparently, he had a fetish for my hair even back then.
I reached for his hand, stopping him. He leaned closer, kissing the top of my head.
"Remember, we are living a dangerous life." I told him.
"I know."
"Protect our family. And our baby."
"Yes, of course."
"Now," I whispered, voice dipping lower, "let's make love."
