 ~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ It be like that sometimes.
overstuffed armchair;
It was a quiet night filled with susurrous sounds of crickets and the chilly wind. It was the perfect time to do some sketching as he sat near the fireplace in an overstuffed armchair. Esme was somewhere in the house, huge as a whale with their first child.
Olly was enjoying the peace, safe from hormonal outbursts.
Or so he thought.
His hand paused in mid-draw and he sighed softly at the familiar voice. “I don’t always take this chair, baby. I can give it to you if you want.’’ And he stood up, offering it to his pregnant girlfriend. |