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."
"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."