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If someone had once asked Lukas Randall what his favorite time of day was, he would have said, “Midnight. When no one’s awake to bother me and are too asleep to stop me.” He would be happy to let their minds stew in fright from his ominous words.
If someone asked that same question now, that would still be his answer. But the truth had changed over the years. While he was all too willing to let others fear him, his reality was different than it had been for so long.
Now, his favorite time of every weekday was coming home. It was pressing his ear to their front door, listening to the loving tone of his wife humoring the excited babbles of their daughters through the wood. It was throwing it open when the amused ache grew too much and he had to see his girls. It was the warmth they surrounded him with as they rushed into his arms, racing to see who could hug him first. The rowdy trio had learned to wait and withhold their joy until he had embraced Lila. “Welcome home, Love.”
Oh how he loved the look on her face. Her bright eyes dancing with adoration as her smile washed away any troubles of the day would never cease to sooth him entirely.
“Hmm, how was your day?”
Already his voice was dropping from relaxed exhaustion. He wrapped his arms around her waist, head falling onto her shoulder. The moment he was enveloped by the perfume he had bought once for her on a whim, the tension bled from his body like dwindling shadows beneath the dawn’s light.
She would giggle, reaching up if she had a free hand to ruffle his raven locks before turning in his hold. He would fall into her fingers carding through his tresses without fail, teetering on the edge of catatonic bliss. She would recount the misadventures of their girls, sprinkling in bits and pieces of her own escapades during his absence. Once upon a time, he would have needed to prod her for any scrap of what consumed her time in solitude.
Only when he pulled away from her kisses and personal warmth would his daughters know it was their turn. He knelt down, long limbs finding their greatest purpose in the form of their embraces. Gloria leapt up, tiny legs hooking around him while her arms looped around his neck. Ivy and Rose would each claim an arm for themselves, holding onto his shoulders as he heaved them all up together.
If his wife was his reprieve, his daughters were his revival. Lila placated him, and his girls reinvigorated him.
His new paradise would be a truly wild sight to anyone who only knew him during office hours. Lukas at the stove, Lila at the table to help the girls with schoolwork when they needed it. A younger version of himself would have tried to scoff at the scene. Disgustingly domestic in every aspect.
And yet, every possible variation of him that could exist would be hard-pressed to paint a more perfect picture for him.
He reveled in Lila’s soft laughter when they settled in for storytime, the clamour of their children filling the house. They fell silent when Lila raised whichever book the three demanded before bed, eager eyes fixated on their mother for as long as they could hold them open.
No matter the night, regardless of the tolls taken that day or the hardships faced, Lukas made sure to keep another steady tradition of theirs going. Plucking a record from their growing collection, his wife always gave him the same knowing look. Her mirthful smile topped in bashful pink blush even after so many years together was nothing short of captivating.
They would sway together in their living room to whatever tempo played from the record player they’d restored together. Lila’s head would fall against his chest if sleep was claiming her particularly fast, listening to his heartbeat compared to the rhythm of the music. Some nights they could only manage a song or two, other nights they danced to entire albums.
Lukas couldn’t ever bring himself to care how long it lasted, so long as he had a few minutes to twirl his beautiful partner like the queen she was. To see her grin in youthful delight in each graceful spin reminded him why he would continue it every night until his body was incapable of movement entirely.
“I love you, ma fleur.”
“And I adore you, moon of mine.”
Occasionally, he gave her one of his rare smiles, one formed throughout their struggles together. With every appearance it made, the light in Lila’s honey orbs sparkled ever brighter.
Her skin was always cold, a blessed respite from his own heat. When they finally made their way to bed, she would always cup his face with far more care than he deserved. The icy feeling of her fingers may have put others off, but he would always cherish it as the coolness that guided him to sleep.
The time between the monochromatic couple waking and their children rising always varied. One of the very few unpredictable things in his life that Randall didn’t mind at all. They would wait together for the tiny but mighty voices to come to their door, whispering to each other about things their daughters were still too young to find as funny as they did.
He could never anticipate what they would want for breakfast on days when they had the time to bicker over it. They would clamor and fight until a decision was made, sometimes instantly and sometimes after nearly an hour. Lukas was more than ready for their eventual conclusion, whipping it up with practiced movements while Lila arranged their plans for the day.
If they were busy, the couple would pass their children around in a roulette to get them ready efficiently. Lukas took care of packing anything they would need, Lila would ensure they were properly dressed after deciphering what outfits would land between necessary and desired by the three girls. The tall male would repeatedly stop to listen to her well-versed handing of the trio. After so many years together, she had learned how to navigate them and temper almost every issue that cropped up.
Of course, they still had their hiccups and made mistakes with their daughters, but it only made him love her more. He enjoyed trading chores every Saturday, balancing housework and shopping.
On days with empty schedules, the house was typically calmer. Board and card games, reading, indulging the new fascinations each girl stumbled upon however they could. To Lukas, a man once so bitter even criminals preferred jail over his presence, this soft life was his utopia.
If someone had asked Lila what her own favorite time was, her answer would likely be less all-encompassing than her husband’s. In fact, she usually had the same image in mind.
Almost every single time it was her turn to go grocery shopping, she would take as long as she could. Some would see it as cruel, or spiteful, but they weren’t allowed to see the sight that made every struggle in her life worth it. She would drag on purpose, be overly meticulous about which bread to buy and what ingredients needed for Lukas’ next kitchen-born experiment.
She had mastered silence in every aspect of her life, and that included unlocking their front door. She would creep through the house carefully, searching for her favorite view. It never took long to find.
Lukas was physically the warmest of their family, so it was no surprise that their small children loved to snuggle up with him to absorb the heat he radiated. This was how she so often found them, on the floor, or the couch, or their parents’ bed. Their tiny limbs latched onto their father tight even in sleep. Her husband would be sound asleep as well. Their typical position was Lukas cradling one girl’s head, with his spare arm slung over another and one with her own arms hugging his torso.
If his camera was in reach, the private one he used only for positive pictures after Lila gave it to him for Christmas, she would snap a photo of the adorable moment. It didn’t matter if she already had dozens of similar snapshots in one of her many scrapbooks, she couldn’t help but capture the scene every opportunity she had.
They also loved nights when their precious three were out of the house for sleepovers. When they fell back into the same things they did when they were dating. Lukas always had a new baking recipe he wanted to learn, and Lila was all too happy to supervise him. She would guide his hands in the mixing bowl just as he guided hers when she attempted cooking. They would read to each other, play chess, tend to Lila’s plants that had begrudgingly taken a liking to Lukas.
Soon, their girls would all be old enough to begin taking on Lila’s family trade. Gloria was already learning to till soil for new seeds and was nearly at the age to learn thinning. They mused in wonder about which of their family passions the girls would take to more; Desroses gardening or Randall tailoring. Dressmaking or farming, whichever would call to them more, if either at all.
Whatever path they gravitated towards, they would have a guide. If not their parents, then the large family they were born into, both by blood and by bonds forged in the fire of the world preceding the children. Thankfully, the friendships had only grown stronger since Ardhalis was brought into a new era of peace, ensuring the next generation’s solid community.
Over the years, Lila had slowly warmed the bristling black-haired man into interacting more with their coworkers. A now-beloved byproduct no one expected to come from her efforts was the playdates.
Lukas, Neyra and Lauren would quietly converse in the kitchen of whichever house they migrated to that month, all of them more focused on watching their children mingle as their partners and friends temporarily revert into youthful play. Kieran would be dragged into a braid-train regularly, every now-and-then being joined by Lukas. Kym and sons would rope some of the others into building elaborate box castles and pillow forts. Not even the most composed of the group were spared the childish antics, as Lauren was more often than not used as a model alongside her betrothed and Belladona whenever their littles decided makeup would be involved in their activities.
Under the frequent circumstances of their children falling asleep tangled together in a pile of exhausted but happy limbs, the adults would find themselves out on the porch, or the balcony, sometimes even on the roof. It was a calmer time for all of them. The noise died down, familiar dynamics expanding in this chapter of their lives.
Lukas, Bella and Kym could antagonize each other without restraint, Kieran, Neyra and Lila free to ramble about whatever new interest they collectively fell into.
“So, what has been your guys’ favorite time from married life?”
Lauren braced herself on her hands, scanning the married couples of the group. Perhaps she was asking to prepare herself for her potential marriage to Kieran, or perhaps she was truly curious as to the various experiences she had yet to learn of.
Regardless, the easy answer passed between Lila and Lukas in a split-second glance. He wore a minuscule smile that only those who knew him far too well could see. Lila’s on the other hand, was much more obvious. Synchronized on a frightening and enviable level, they hummed together.
“All of it, every second.”