[July 03] as suddenly as the tide (dante)

Jittery. Excited. Nervous. Nauseas.

She'd risen early from bed though her ever-present exhaustion tried to keep her under the covers a little bit longer. She knew if she had stayed in bed, Dante would've been up before her while she would sleep in into the late morning.

He'd done so much for her recently. He'd been so endearingly patient with her too. Dante was always concerned of her well being and continued to put her first. He had even encouraged to take her to St. Mungo's but she refused at that time and insisted she was well. It wasn't until later that day after Dante had reluctantly left for work with Maryana ill in bed that she decided to go to a healer and find out what was wrong with her. Maryana hated that she had become a bump on a log while she found it difficult to do daily tasks. Her nausea was to blame. Today, she wanted to show him how much she appreciated all he did for her.

With the couple of small lights turned on in the kitchen, she got to work preparing breakfast. The smell of food as she progressed made her stomach clench. She could feel the bile building up in the back of her throat. Anya paused, flour up to her elbows, as she braced herself against the counter, closed her eyes, and took deep breaths until the daunting feeling of needing to vomit left her. Steadfast and determined, she continued on.

Maryana could never cook to save her life. Perhaps that was why breakfast was her favorite meal of the day. Baking came to her much more naturally and, for breakfast, she could make a wide variety of delectable pastries. It had been a little bit of time since she last baked for Dante and planned that this would be a special treat for him.

She persisted to finish breakfast in time before he woke up. Luckily, she only had to leave the kitchen once to empty her stomach's contents while the rest of the morning she managed to pause and swallow it down. There was no way she'd be able to eat this this morning so she made one big cinnamon bun for Dante and then a handful of smaller ones out of the leftover dough and placed them in the freezer for a later date.

Once the cinnamon bun was in the oven, she turned her attention to attempt to make some scrambled eggs but the smell only made her sickness worse and in the event she had to step out onto the back porch for some fresh air, she burned the eggs! She pulled out her wand and used a spell to get rid of the smell while she dumped the crisp eggs into sink for the little creature underneath to eat away. She forgot what it was called, but was very similar to the garbage disposal she had in her muggle home in Russia.

A filled kettle was placed on the stove top for her. She'd been brewing peppermint or ginger tea frequently as of late when she felt her worst. Once the kettle was set, she made the icing for the buns and rinsed some fresh raspberries. The fruit would have to do as her supplement to the eggs.

A rustling came from the bedroom as she rinsed off a new white mug. Just in time. Dante was waking up. Hopefully the burnt eggs wasn't what woke him up. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," she chimed when he entered the kitchen. She set the mug up and began to brew a cup of coffee. As he wrapped his arms around her, she turned around to greet him with a morning kiss. "I'm making you breakfast!" Her arms wrapped around his neck as she leaned into him with her forehead against his chest as her exhaustion hit her quickly. Her eyes were closed and her hands snaked upwards to lazily play with his hair. "It'll be ready in a few more minutes."

@Dante Boscono

Things had moved so quickly in the past month. First, he proposed to Anya in a very special way and next she was moved in with him. He hadn't expected any of this and yet he couldn't say he wasn't happy about it. The two had been going out for a decent amount of time and every moment together was both exciting and relaxing at the same time. Dante thought he had given up on fairy tales and happy endings, but this was feeling like it could be his. She was perfect and he would do about anything for her. He would even be willing to drop his life for her if she wanted him to. He loved her and she loved him back. Things were perfect.

Still, even happy endings would have bumps along the road and though it was minor Dante couldn't help and notice her sickness she was suffering. He thought of many possibilities, but he settled on the idea that it was stress from the move. She had moved from Russia to England so the environment change was probably going to get to her for a while. Dante would be as patient and caring as he could for her and even offered to take time off work to help her feel better, but she insisted he didn't. She would go see a healer herself and he agreed as it meant she would at least acknowledge that she needed help. Although he felt he could have checked himself the fact she didn't want to be a burden to him made him feel as if she just wanted to have some independence of her own instead of being taken care of.

So when he woke up this morning he was in shock at first to not see his beautiful fiancee laying down next to him. Had she left him in cold feet? Was she sick of him already? Did he do something wrong? So many thoughts scrambled through his brain only to be pushed out by the smell of baking. A smile appeared on his face as he took a very deep sniff of the delicious smell and he could tell she was making cinnamon buns. He got up from the bed and stretched his arms up before realizing he wasn't wearing his pajama top. He must have taken it off in his sleep. He looked around on the ground and found it partially under the bed picked it up and put it in the laundry hamper for later.

He walked into the kitchen and was greeted to which he responded with, "Good morning my queen." It was silly he knew, but she was his queen and he lived to serve her if she so wished him to. She then told him she was making him breakfast and kissed him. He kissed her back, "I can tell and it smells delicious." He would embrace her and pull her closer to his chest and close his own eyes. It was moments like this that meant the world to him. The two bodies close together and feeling her heartbeat on his own. The warmth of her skin touching his and her scent filling his nostrils. Everything about her calmed him and made him feel at ease.

"Do you want me to help you with anything," he asked Anya as he felt bad that he wasn't helping. This was going to be a partnership after all he wasn't about to let her do anything by herself if she didn't want to. This engagement wouldn't end because of himself and frankly, he didn't want it to end at all so he would do whatever he could to make sure there were no major bumps in it. Even if it meant he had to quit his job at St. Mungo's so she could go back to teaching he would do that if it made her happy. Whatever she wanted he would do his best to make her dreams come true. She was his everything after all.

Anya placed a tender kiss on his neck. Her hands crept down from the top of his head and traveled down over his bare chest. She loved feeling his skin beneath her fingertips. It was calming in its own special way. Her arms moved to wrap around his torso. "No, thank you. I'm doing this for you so you get to sit down and relax," she replied with a shake of her head.

As she stood there against him, she began to wonder if telling him would be the best idea. She was nervous. They had talked about children before and agreed they wanted a family. It just wasn't planned to happen so early.... Maryana didn't dare think of terminating the baby. She'd thought about it long and hard. If Dante didn't want it like this and it grew challenging, as much as she hated to think about it, she would leave if she had to.

She inhaled deeply and smiled as his scent filled the air around her. This was Dante she was thinking about! Even though it wasn't the timeline they planned for, she remained optimistic that after the initial shock, all would be well and they could be excited about it together. He smelled so good and it did make her feel a little better. Only for a brief time.

She felt her stomach tighten and knew exactly what was about to happen. Anya wiggled from his hold with her hand over her mouth. "Your coffee should be done soon." She pointed to the mug near the coffee maker. "I'll be right back."

As fast as lighting, she escaped to the bathroom-and just in time too! There was barely anything left in her stomach to throw up. There was a few moments of painful dry heaving. Her stomach and chest tightened as sat there crouched over then toilet until it passed.

Even though nothing came out of her, she flushed the toilet, put the lud down, and moved to sit against the tub. Her elbows propped up on her knees with her hands against her forehead. She sighed and took big deep breaths. In through the nose......Pause..... Out through the mouth. She continued this a few times as she regained her control.

Anya was about to ask if Dante could finish making the ginger tea for her when she heard the familiar buzz from the timer go off. "Dante! Quick! There's a bun in the oven! There's a bun in the oven! Don't let it burn!" She chuckled softly from her spot on the floor. She was quite clever, wasn't she? Anya only hoped he would understand what she meant. If not, she had two more ways of telling him... Just in case.

"Fiesty today aren't you?" Dante joked at Anya when she insisted she does the cooking alone. He hadn't seen her like this in a while and it was quite amusing so he relented after a small chuckle. Anya would then direct him to the coffee pot for his morning brew and then would excuse herself for a moment. He raised an eyebrow at how fast she left the area especially when she had covered her mouth before leaving. He brushed it aside though and poured himself a cup of joe before heading to the breakfast table where the daily prophet sat. Opening the newspaper there seemed to not be anything too exciting in the news of late, but it did remind him of his proposal. It was a silly way of doing it, but it worked out in the end. She had said yes and now here they were living together and enjoying each other's company. Life was perfect right now and Dante wouldn't change it if he could.

As he sat reading and reminiscing he heard a buzz come from the kitchen. Something she had made had finished should he get up and take it out for her or would she be upset because he was helping her when she specifically directed him to not help. Those thoughts were quickly squashed when she said from the bathroom to not let the bun in the oven get burnt. A weird choice of words he had to admit, but he wasn't about to let any creation of hers burn when she worked so hard to make it. So Dante rushed to the kitchen put on some oven mitts and pulled the pasty out of the oven.

 He looked at the bun for a few seconds and furrowed his brow and said to himself silently, "it couldn't. Could it?" Dante shook his head and dismissed the thought from his mind. It was too early in their relationship to be thinking like that. Slow and steady was the mantra he followed he didn't want to jump to conclusions. Taking a deep whiff of the bun he placed it down on the stove-top and removed his gloves. He would return to his position at the breakfast table and await either further instruction from Anya or for her return from the bathroom.

Shortly after the oven was opened, the smell of the baked pastry wafted into the room. It wasn't the most pleasant smell but it certainly wasn't the worst either to make her gag. Patiently she waited for him to realize what had happened. Anya had partially expected him to come to the door and say something.

Nothing.

Slowly, she stood up, brushed her teeth for good breath, then made her way into the living room. She was a little disappointed to see he hadn't finished making her tea-it was only water in the kettle at this point-but not surprised. She gave him a kiss on the cheek before moving back into the kitchen to get her tea started and put the rest of his breakfast together. "Did you sleep well?"

With a wave of her wand, icing drizzled over the cinnamon roll slowly and delicately. It was a masterpiece. The raspberries danced above her head before twirling down and landing gently in a small pile on the plate. It truly did look divine. "Is there anything interesting in the papers, darling?" Maryana glanced over to see Dante was still engrossed in The Daily Prophet. She couldn't hide the smirk when she saw his mug was facing away from him. Maybe her second idea wasn't going to work.

The kettle began to whistle and Anya waved her wand again for her mug to be filled. Moments later after the hot drink was poured in, black writing began to appear on the side. It read "Mommy est. 2003" in neat cursive. Dante's was matching except his read "Daddy est. 2003". They had matching mugs and if Dante hadn't noticed his, maybe he would notice hers.

Anya gathered his plate in one hand and her mug and his silverware in the other. She placed his plate down in front of him then set the silverware carefully next to it. Once she got his attention, she smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips.  "Здравствуйn," she spoke in a hushed tone as she paused to look deep into his eyes. Her heart swelled with love. Her smile grew childishly before she leaned in again, her eyes closed, the kiss a little longer. A little softer. A little deeper.

As she pulled back, she moved to sit in her seat beside him. "How do you like the new mug? Does it sit well in your hand?" She leaned forward in her chair with her elbows on the table as she sipped from her's The print on her's facing him. The warm drink sliding down her throat felt good. She couldn't wait for the nausea she felt to subside soon.

Maryana wanted so desperately to just tell him her exciting news. That would ruin all of the fun, though. She could say it in Russian. While they had been learning each other's languages, "pregnant" was not a word she had taught him. First, there was a bun in the oven. Now, it was printed very clearly on his mug. If this didn't work, there was one last idea she had before she would retrieve the pregnancy test and show him. She watched him with her brown-like eyes. Her smile hidden by her mug as waited for what felt like an eternity for him to notice or remain oblivious.