Beautiful

1/2 oz. each; Grand Marnier & Courvoisier

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She was beautiful; there was no other way to describe her.

Aidan watched her eyelids as they fluttered gently while she slept, her head cushioned against his chest. He ran a hand across her cheek and revelled in how soft her skin was, he drew his finger down the length of her nose and smiled as his finger tip danced over a light peppering of freckles.

He felt his own eyes become heavy as he watched her sleep, the afternoon sun drifted in through the bedroom window, hitting her cheeks and making them both glow.

Her breathing was so soft he could hardly hear it, he even held his own just to make sure that the rise and fall of her chest wasn’t just an illusion, that she was really there in his arms, that she was really alive and to make sure that, being as she was so fragile, that he hadn’t broken her.

He felt her move in his arms, and watched as she turned her face towards him, her eyes twitched and then fluttered open for no longer than a second, just long enough, Aidan thought, to see the colour of her eyes.

Blue.

Baby blue, his favourite colour in the whole world!

He smiled as he felt a light squeeze to his hand and looked over his shoulder, “Hey”

The woman next to him smiled, her blue eyes shining; her hair mused, her face relaxed, yet tired, the sun warming her face, making her look years younger.

“Hey” her smile widened, splitting her face beautifully.

“How’re you feeling?” Aidan asked her, squeezing her hand in return, his face soft with concern.

“A little tired” Juliette said with a small chuckle, her eye lids heavy with exhaustion.

Aidan leaned over as best he could with the small bundle in his arms and placed a soft kiss on Juliette’s forehead, she smiled as he then kissed her softly on the mouth, “I’m proud of you.”

Juliette looked away, a blush on her cheeks, before turning back to face him, her eyes wondering from his to the small baby nestled in his arms.

She carefully lifted the child out of Aidan’s arms, trying not to wake her, and held the baby to her chest; Juliette lifted her gently, holding the back of her head as she pressed a kiss to her daughter forehead.

“She’s beautiful.” Juliette said as she lowered the child back against her chest, one hand holding her tight, the other gently stroking her cheek.

“Yeah: beautiful.” Aidan whispered besides her.

Juliette wasn’t sure if her husband was talking about her or the baby girl asleep in her arms, but as she held her daughter properly for the first time, she didn’t really care, as everything at that moment, to her, was beautiful.

Beau"ti*ful (?), a.

Having the qualities which constitute beauty; pleasing to the sight or the mind.

A circle is more beautiful than a square; a square is more beautiful than a parallelogram. Lord Kames.

Syn. -- Handsome; elegant; lovely; fair; charming; graceful; pretty; delightful. See Fine.

-- Beau"ti*ful*ly, adv. -- Beau"ti*ful*ness, n.

 

© Webster 1913.

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