Topic: The Little Prince

Anthony De Luca

Date: 2019-06-29 15:01 EST
At four years old, Sofia De Luca was as lively and energetic a small girl as any parents could ask for. She was also incredibly loving, and had just had what she described as the best day ever. It had, however, been a long day as well, and the little girl was yawning around her toothbrush as she got ready for bed under the caring eye of her father. She spat obediently into the sink, making a face at the splat left behind, and turned to raise her arms to Tony, her tired face hopeful that she could get a lift to bed.

"All ready for bed, myshka?" Tony asked, wasting no time in scooping his little girl up into his arms, lighter by far than any ballerina. She was already learning the basics, though neither parent had forced the issue. The ballet was just so much a part of the De Luca's life that it seemed perfectly natural that their four-year-old would voice an interest in taking after her pretty mama.

Curling comfortably onto Tony's hip, Sofia nodded as she cuddled into him. "Will he still be here when I wake up?" she asked through another yawn. "He can have Mirabelle to make him stay." Mirabelle was Sofia's prized cuddly - a plush rabbit in a tutu.

"Yes, sweetheart, he will still be here when you wake up," Tony replied as he whisked her away in the direction of her bedroom, which was very pink. He smirked a little in amusement at her sleepy willingness to give up her favorite plushie to her new baby brother. "Does he look like he's going to run away anytime soon?"

She giggled, trying to imagine the baby brother they had brought home today trying to even lift his own head up. "Will he like me, Papa?"

"Of course, he will like you," he replied, tapping a finger against her cute little nose. "He will do more than like you. He will adore you!" he assured her, though he couldn't know that for sure. "But if you want him to like you, you will have to be a good big sister. Can you do that, sweetling?"

"Like Zia Mat'ya does to Zia 'Lena?" she asked, citing the first big/little sister combination that came to mind. Mataya and Elena might not have been the best example, but they were definitely close.

"Something like that, yes," Tony admitted, though the comparison wasn't perfect. He touched a kiss to her nose before settling her into bed and tucking that plush bunny in beside her.

Nestling down against her pillow, Sofia blinked owlishly up at her father, smiling in her sleepy way. "Bwayno nighttime, Papa," she mumbled, utterly destroying both the Italian language and her good night in one sentence.

"Buona notte, tesora," he whispered back. "No worries now. Only sweet dreams, yes" Love you to the moon and back," he added, tucking the blanket around her and brushing an affectionate kiss to her cheek.

"Lo' you too ..."

The words faded off into a soft sigh as sleep took hold of Sofia. She was not used to such long days as today had been, having woken up before the crack of dawn in excitement over bringing the baby home today. Without a nap, it was a wonder she had stayed her usual sunny self right up until bedtime.

He stayed with her a moment longer, just to make sure she was asleep and to savor the moment. It had been a long day, but a happy one, and he couldn't help but wonder at his good fortune. He had everything he had ever wanted, starting with his Anya. Life couldn't be more perfect than it was right then. He quietly moved toward the door, leaving it a little ajar, a nightlight with a pink ballerina etched on the front adding a soft glow to the room.

When he glanced back, all that was visible of Sofia was her head of dark hair spread out on the pillow, the rest of her already burrowed beneath the covers as she always did. Something else she'd inherited from her mother; Anya was a bedcovers hog, but thankfully she also didn't move too much once she'd fallen asleep.

He exhaled a soft sigh at the sight of his little girl asleep in the bed. She wasn't always an angel, of course, but she was his angel, nevertheless. She filled his heart with joy, each and every day. He could never have imagined loving another child as much as he loved his Sofia, until now. He quietly crept back down the stairs to rejoin Anya in the living room.

Who was gently swaying in the middle of the room, their new son tucked against her shoulder as she sang softly to him in Italian.

"La luce che tu hai, nel cuore resterà; A ricordarci che l'eterna stella sei ...."

Though only a few days old, the tiny boy seemed utterly at peace with his new family, and Anya hoped that his birth mother, whoever she was, would find her own way safely.

Tony paused in the doorway, quietly watching his beloved with their new son, his heart touched by the sound of her voice and words of her song. I pray we'll find your light and hold it in our hearts, when stars go out each night. He smiled, seeing the love on her face, in her eyes, in her voice. There was no doubt the newest and littlest addition to the De Luca family was already loved.

She devolved into humming, turning in her sway to find Tony watching her. Anya's smile was warm as she took one hand from their new son to invite her husband closer. "Would you like to hold your son, milaya?"

"I do not wish to take him from you, cara," he told her as he came closer, wrapping one arm around Anya and brushing a kiss to her cheek before turning to admire the small bundle in her arms. "Was Sofia ever that small?"

She chuckled softly, nestling into the wrap of his arm quite happily. "It is hard to believe, isn't it?" she agreed. "We are back to diapers and bottles, and it is wonderful. She was so good today."

"Do you know what she asked me before she fell asleep?" he asked, though of course, she didn't. "She wanted to know if he'd like her." Tony clucked his tongue at the thought of anyone not liking his little Sofia. "She is too much like her mother, I think," he teased.

Anya's eyes narrowed a little, but she smiled in answer. "There is no such thing as too much," she countered in amusement. "I am, after all, perfect."

Tony chuckled, but knew better than to argue with that. "Which is precisely why I married you," he told her, playfully tapping a finger to her nose.

She snorted with laughter, wrinkling her nose at him as he tapped it. "Here," she said, gently maneuvering their son. "Cuddle with Sasha for a little while. I need to make up the bottles for tonight and tomorrow."

Anthony De Luca

Date: 2019-06-29 15:02 EST
"We'll go with you," he told her, sliding an arm beneath the newborn to take him from her and cradle him in the crook of his arm. "There's nothing more exciting than watching Mama make bottles!" he said with a grin.

She laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he took their son into his capable arms. "It's fascinating, I know," she agreed. "Your mother is going to be beside herself with excitement tomorrow, you know."

"Yes, I know. She has been pestering me for another grandchild ever since Sofia started to walk," he admitted, tucking the receiving blanket around the newborn. "'Have you forgotten how to make a baby, Antonio"' she has been asking me," he said with a roll of his eyes, mimicking his mother's voice as best he could, being male.

Still giggling, Anya moved on bare feet into the kitchen, gathering together the sterilized bottles to measure out formula for the feeds that night and tomorrow. "Better than my mama," she pointed out. "A dancer must not have too many babies, Anya, or she will never fit in her tutu again."

"They mean well, but it is really none of their business," Tony said, following her into the kitchen and taking a lean against the cupboard, close at hand but out of her way. "We will love this child as much as we would one of our own making."

"He is ours," she agreed softly, pausing to admire him standing there with their son in his arms. "He will know he is loved, and his sister is going to spoil him the way she was spoiled if we let her."

"I hope so," Tony said, turning serious. He wanted their children to at least like each other, even if they never became the best of friends. "Sofia asked if he'd still be here in the morning. She offered to give him Mirabelle to make him stay," he told her.

Anya seemed to relax as he told her this. "Then we did it the right way, having her involved from the start," she said with relief. "I am sure there will be moments when she resents him, and he cannot stand her, but that is how children are, da?"

"My sisters used to fight like cats and dogs," Tony admitted, though he was rarely involved in those fights. He had no regrets about his life, but it would have been nice to have been a kid a little bit longer and not have been forced to fill his father's shoes before he'd had a chance to grow up. Despite that, he chuckled at the memories of his childhood. "It's amazing Elena has any hair left at all the way Teresa used to yank it."

"Yes, I remember Tess and Elena barely speaking when we met the first time," Anya mused thoughtfully, screwing tops onto two of the bottles so she could shake them vigorously. "And now look at them. If anything, Tony, your sisters make a fine case that while childhood may be bumpy, adulthood will bring an even keel."

"I suppose so," Tony acknowledged. There had been a time when he thought his oldest and youngest sisters hated each other, but that was no longer the case. "There's no sense worrying about it. All we can do is raise them with love and affection and hope they get along."

"Milaya, just because Sasha did not spend nine months in my womb does not mean he will automatically be the exact opposite of his sister," Anya reminded him with a gentle smile. "Nurture is what forms most of a person's personality, after all."

"It is a good start though, isn't it, Anya?" Tony asked, looking down at the small bundle in his arms. The little boy looked so peaceful, calm, and content - at least, for now. "We are truly blessed," he said, his voice catching on his words, very nearly overcome with emotion.

"It is a good start," she assured him, moving to set the finished bottles for tomorrow in the fridge, with four set aside to go into the little fridge in the nursery. She drew a fingertip down the baby's cheek, leaning up to kiss Tony tenderly. "And we are going into this well rested this time. I do not feel we have missed out by not going through the pregnancy."

Tony couldn't help but smirk at the way she had phrased that. "You do not miss the morning sickness and going through labor?" he asked, naming only two aspects of pregnancy that every woman dreaded.

"Nor do I miss feeling terrible about wearing bigger clothes, or not being able to dance for months on end," she said with a cheerful lilt to her voice. "I am hoping that we will not be sleep deprived zombies this time around."

"We can take turns with Sasha," Tony suggested. "Once the gala is over, I'll take some time off from the ballet. Irina and Christian can handle things in my absence. Christian has been talking about trying his hand at directing and choreography."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Like Tony and Anya, Christian was reaching an age where being a regular principal was not really on the cards if they wanted to encourage younger dancers to step up and improve themselves. Merry, on the other hand, would probably keep dancing until she was four hundred, which was an odd thing to know about a good friend. "I am glad we will not lose him back to Earth when he decides his dancing days are done."

"No, I am sure he and Merethyl are here for good," Tony replied, especially since they, too, had started a family. Even if they gave up their spots as principals, there would always be a place for them in the company, in one form or another. "Did you ever expect this would be our future, cara mia?" he asked, a soft smile on his face. Even if he only ever danced a few times a year, he had so much more to be grateful for.

"I never stopped hoping," she admitted, almost shyly. The years they had spent apart had been interminable, especially now, when she knew they could have begun their happy family life sooner. "I am very happy with you, and our family, Tony."

"I'm happy, too, Anya," he assured her with a soft smile and a look in his eyes that spoke of his enduring love for her. "But I think someone else is not so happy," he said, chuckling down at the newborn, who he was pretty sure just left his father a present in his diaper.

"He seems pretty content to me," Anya said, grinning in a way that meant Tony was the one who was going to have to deal with what he had just discovered. "He won't be when you pull his pants off."

"He won't be if he sits in it too long either," Tony pointed out with a heavy sigh. "Ah, well. Sorry, Sasha, but it looks like you're due for a diaper change," he said, reluctant to disturb the newborn's bliss, but he had no choice, without risking a diaper rash. "Let's get this over with."

Anthony De Luca

Date: 2019-06-29 15:02 EST
Anya chuckled, leaving the boys to their slightly contentious bonding to jog upstairs and set up the nursery for the feeds later in the night. While Sasha was going to spend a couple of weeks sleeping in his basket in his parents' room, they'd worked out with Sofia that it was easier to have the nursery set up for nighttime feeds - that way they didn't disturb each other when the baby needed them.

Thankfully, the littlest angel didn't squawk too much about being changed, too sleepy to expend much energy complaining. It was only a matter of ten minutes before Tony joined Anya upstairs, tucking their new son into the basket near his parents' bed with a softly crooned lullaby in Italian.

Anya wrapped her arms about Tony from behind, peeking over his shoulder at the tiny boy settling in for his long sleep - which would be about four hours, they both knew, before he needed feeding. "Are you still worried about being able to love a son as much as your daughter?"

"No," he answered without hesitation. "It is different having a son, and it is different adopting. But I love him already, Anya. I loved him from the first moment I saw him," he told her, pausing a moment to brush a gentle finger against the infant's cheek. "He is an angel sent from heaven."

"I am very glad," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his neck. "Come to bed, milaya. We both need to sleep if we are going to keep up with both of them."

"Yes, dear," he replied, with the slightest hint of a smirk, turning to let her lead the way to bed, which was only a few steps from where their son was sleeping. This time around, they would both take turns feeding and changing their son, so that most of the work did not fall on Anya alone.

She giggled softly at the obedient response, kissing his shoulder before she let go of his waist, instead claiming his hand for the short walk to the bed. "Would you like to place a bet on when Sofia climbs into bed with us tonight?"

He smiled, no doubt in his mind that they'd wake sometime before morning to find Sofia nestled between them, but he had no idea quite when that would happen. "Do you think it will be sooner, rather than later?" he asked, pausing as they reached the bed and turning to face her, his arms sliding around her slender waist.

"I think it might be," Anya mused softly, looping her arms about his shoulders as he drew her close. "She has a jealous streak. She won't like being the only one not sleeping in here."

"Perhaps we should convince her that sleeping in her own bed is a privilege, not a punishment," Tony suggested, an almost mischievous smirk on his face. He wondered how long Sofia would like sleeping in their bed when her baby brother woke her up several times a night screaming to be fed.

Anya laughed quietly. "I think she will work that out soon enough," she assumed. "She does not like being woken up, after all. Perhaps she will learn a new respect for her parents?"

"One can hope," Tony said with an exaggerated sigh. "But I think perhaps we should try to get as much sleep as we can before the Little Prince decides he's hungry again," he told her, touching an affectionate kiss to the tip of her nose.

"As your majesty commands," she teased, rising onto her toes to kiss his lips in return. Then she drew away, climbing into the bed to nestle down against the pillows like the small covers-hog that she was.

He smiled into her kiss, before sliding beneath whatever covers she'd left him, arms reaching to draw her close. Thankfully, it was summer, and there was no need to fight over the blankets. "Ti amo, Anya," he whispered in her ear.

"Ti amo, Tony," she murmured back to him, nestling in close. It was likely they'd both wake up for Sasha's first feed of the night, but they'd find their balance over the next week.

He was still smiling when sleep took him, happy and content, Anya nestled close, and baby Sasha asleep in his basket. No doubt, Sofia would join them sometime in the night, but for now, it was wise to get as much rest as they could.

It felt as though their little family was complete, just the four of them, and all very happy to be with one another. With luck, that feeling would last through the ups and downs of having a brand new baby, and in just a year's time, they really would be the picture of domestic bliss.