You stirred in bed.

Ever since having a baby, the slightest noise woke you up. You rolled over and looked at the clock blearily. It had only been about an hour since you’d laid down to take a nap, and you hadn’t heard a peep out of the baby until now.

Rubbing your eyes, you sat up in bed. You swore you heard a sound coming from the baby’s room, but there was no crying or screaming. Silence hung in the air, louder than any wail that he could make. You rolled out of bed and shoved your feet into slippers.

On your tiptoes, you walked slowly to the baby room, right next door to your own bedroom. The door was ajar so you peeked into the room, and the sight before you surprised you: P.O hunched over the crib and in a soft tone, barely over a whisper, sang a lullaby. His voice was raspy but not abrasive, just raw.

Arms crossed, you smiled and leaned against the doorpost, watching. P.O had been so busy and often left you to take care of the baby so it was sweet to see him watching the baby. He must have come home early.

He shifted down to his knees, a more comfortable position. The baby cooed, making the first noise you’d heard since coming over.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, placing a hand inside the crib. He crooned into the crib.

You pushed the door open silently and moved in behind him, joining him in the song. He jumped a little at the feel of your hand on his shoulder but kept on singing. You bent over the crib, and the baby giggled as soon as you slipped into view.

P.O turned around sharply. “I figured it was you,” he said, voice slightly louder.

“Shh,” you said and kept singing, picking up where he’d left off. Your voice wasn’t as good as P.O’s, but the baby recognized yours more and closed his eyes.

P.O stood and wrapped an arm around your waist. His voice mingled with yours as he began to sing again, slightly louder now. You leaned back into him, a smile pulling at the corner of your lips.

As the lullaby ended, your voices faded out, but P.O didn’t let you go. He wrapped his other arm around you and held you to his chest. He said nothing, just kissed the top of your head.

You felt warm and comfortable, like you were in a cocoon of love. You held your breath and watched the baby’s eyelashes flutter with each breath he took, each deeper than the last as he sank into a slumber.

“I love you,” P.O breathed, mouth right next to your ear.

You looked up at him and smiled, not even needing to reply. But you said it anyway. “I love you, too.” You kissed his cheek and turned back to your son.

The baby was soon asleep, and you could have sworn there was a smile on his lips, just like the one on your own.