“It sure is a pretty color,” he says, tugging your braid as he walks behind you.
“Yeah, it’s real pretty.” You smile, continuing to paint the wall the light pink you had picked out for the baby’s room.
He steps back from the wall, inspecting the progress. You smiled at your husband, in his jeans, no shirt, and DX hat.
“This color would look pretty on you,” he grins.
You step back, taking a look at the wall. He comes behind you, arms wrapping around you and your pregnant belly.
“You really think this color would look good on me?”
“Well, let’s see,” he smirks.
The next thing you know, the pink paint is all over your shirt.
He steps back, admiring his work. “Definitely your color.”
You gape at your shirt, the smile. “You little shit.” You laugh, bending down to grab your paint brush.
“You wouldn’t…” He starts, as you flick the paintbrush at him.
“You know, I can’t just take the paint off of my chest… Of face.” He sputters.
“But it’s your color!” You laugh.
“I think you look better in it.”
He says, smearing it off his face to smear it on yours. “Brings out your eyes.” He smirks.
“Really?” You laugh. “I think it’d be a good hair color for you.” You say, taking the paint brush to the side of his hair and on his DX hat.
“Not the hair! Or the hat!” He yells, running away from you.
You laugh, chasing after him.
“Pregnant ladies shouldn’t run!” He yells.
“Husbands of pregnant ladies shouldn’t paint their wives!” You yell at him.
He turns back to look at you, and trips over painting supplies.
“Oww.” He says.
You lay on top of him, grinning. “Payback.” You smile.
“Are you excited?” He smiled.
“Really.” You say, leaning down, giving him a kiss.
“Yeah, it’s real pretty.” You smile, continuing to paint the wall the light pink you had picked out for the baby’s room.
He steps back from the wall, inspecting the progress. You smiled at your husband, in his jeans, no shirt, and DX hat.
“This color would look pretty on you,” he grins.
You step back, taking a look at the wall. He comes behind you, arms wrapping around you and your pregnant belly.
“You really think this color would look good on me?”
“Well, let’s see,” he smirks.
The next thing you know, the pink paint is all over your shirt.
He steps back, admiring his work. “Definitely your color.”
You gape at your shirt, the smile. “You little shit.” You laugh, bending down to grab your paint brush.
“You wouldn’t…” He starts, as you flick the paintbrush at him.
“You know, I can’t just take the paint off of my chest… Of face.” He sputters.
“But it’s your color!” You laugh.
“I think you look better in it.”
He says, smearing it off his face to smear it on yours. “Brings out your eyes.” He smirks.
“Really?” You laugh. “I think it’d be a good hair color for you.” You say, taking the paint brush to the side of his hair and on his DX hat.
“Not the hair! Or the hat!” He yells, running away from you.
You laugh, chasing after him.
“Pregnant ladies shouldn’t run!” He yells.
“Husbands of pregnant ladies shouldn’t paint their wives!” You yell at him.
He turns back to look at you, and trips over painting supplies.
“Oww.” He says.
You lay on top of him, grinning. “Payback.” You smile.
“Are you excited?” He smiled.
“Really.” You say, leaning down, giving him a kiss.
You smiled at him, waiting for him to continue. He grabbed your hand. “I thought it’d be the coolest thing to be a train. I don’t even know why. Maybe because they’re always moving, they’re big, I don’t know.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“But as I got older, I realized I was like a train. Always pushing forward, no turning around of anything. From the looks of it, my train was going to end me up in jail.” He stops walking at the track switch.
“(Y/N), you were like my track switch. My train was headed for nowhere till you came along. Now I see my train going somewhere, to a house, a family, a life.” He pauses. “And I wanted to say thank you.” He says quietly.
You just wrap your arms around him.
