Live As We Know It

{Olivia's POV}

I stood outside my daughter's room, listening to the sweet sounds of my Marcel strumming his guitar. He always did this to help our little girl sleep. She loved the way the guitar sounded above her crib and she smiled at her daddy until she drifted off. We had been married 12 almost a year, making Kellyn almost two months old. He's been doing the guitar trick since the night we brought her home.

"Good night, sweetheart." I heard Marcel whisper as the guitar's sound faded to a close. I peered around the corner to see him bending over the crib, kissing our daughter on the forehead and then gently running his fingers down her cheek. A smile appeared on his lips and a tiny tear slipped down his face, which we swiped away and turned, spotting me.

He smiled and walked out of the nursery. "Did you see that?"

"I heard the song, and saw the small tear," I whispered, making sure to let the baby rest.

Marcel blushed, sitting the guitar against the wall. "How embarrassing,"

"Embarrassing?" I questioned, "I found it adorable."

Marcel smiled widely, bending down and connecting our lips. I smiled and kissed back, wrapping my arms around his neck, his going around my waist, which had luckily slimmed down since my pregnancy. We parted and Marcel brushed the hair from my face.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too." I replied, smiling as he bent down and grabbed his guitar. He gave me a peck on the cheek as he walked toward our bedroom, grabbing the guitar case and slipping it in. He had gotten lessons to make himself a guitar pro with Niall, who had taught him well. I walked into the bedroom.

"Zayn called," I said, raising my voice to a bit more normal, now that we were away from the baby's room.

"And said?" Marcel asked, zipping up the case and sitting it in the closet.

"He wants to know if he can stop by tomorrow after work," I said.

"Of course he can!" Marcel exclaimed, "why would he ask?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, "he sounded.. down."

"Well, I hope nothing is wrong at home," Marcel said, walking into our bathroom.

"I know, me too." I sighed as I slipped into my nightgown and crawled into bed, turning off my lamp.

Marcel walked out of the bathroom, wearing his normal plain white t-shirt and pajama pants. He crawled into bed with me, turning out his own light and wrapping his arm around me.

Notes