Blue
It was a frigid night for mid-November, and all Armin could really think about was getting home and dropping himself in front of a smouldering fire before his fingers started to turn black from frostbite. The emptiness of Shacklestone's streets was a testament to how few people wanted to go out in this cold. Those people were sane.
Janet Johnson-Alscher… wasn't, apparently.
His post-dinner relaxation had been rudely interrupted by her jumping into the room, exclaiming that she was out of blue paint, which she needed in order to complete the picture she was working on.
'Couldn't you just buy some tomorrow and finish it then?' Armin ventured.
'No. It might - I don't know - I just want to finish it while I have inspiration. Please can we go and get some now?' She looked desperate, as if this was a far more urgent situation than it actually was - and Armin couldn't bear the idea of letting her down.
'...We'll go. But put on a coat first; it's freezing out there.'
Now they were on their way back from the craft store with a tin of blue paint and a number of other things that hadn't originally been considered. Janet tended to lose herself in craft stores, and honestly, it was hard not to find her enthusiasm endearing as she pored over every shelf and display in search of new things. Had he been here alone, Armin would have been bored witless within ten minutes, but tonight he followed her around without complaining for twenty, distracting himself by thinking about how cute she looked in that too-long coat and with her hair braided back.
I can hardly keep up with her, but… this is life, now. And I don't think I want to swap it for a more peaceful one. Never change, wild girl.
There had only been a few occasions in his life where Armin had truly felt out of his depth, like the time he'd walked in on his mother crying and had no idea why.
But that incident couldn't hold a candle to the unfamiliar emotions cascading through him when his newborn son was placed into his arms.
He had been very much distracted by Janet until now - and had wanted nothing more than to save her from the seemingly endless torment of her labour - but she fled his mind as soon as the midwife thrust a baby upon him. His baby. The one Janet had toiled for hours to bring into the world. The one they had made together.
It was screaming like a banshee, of course, and wrapped up so tightly in blankets that Armin could see little except for a wrinkled face and a few wisps of white-blond hair. He had absolutely no idea what to do; he awkwardly curled one hand underneath the baby's head to support it, while the other waved slightly in front of its face. After a moment, the cries subsided - but did not stop altogether - and for the first time, the baby's eyes opened as it clumsily reached for his fingers.
They were a deep blue, the colour of the sea on a summer's day. The same colour as his.
Janet soon felt well enough to sit up and hold the baby herself. She was still very weak, bleary-eyed and sore, but had a determined look on her face that nobody could argue with. Armin initially leaned back to let her enjoy her moment with her son, but when she impatiently beckoned him over he came without hesitation.
They'd decided that whoever gave the baby their eyes would be allowed to choose its name. And with that, Frederick took his first breaths of the world.
Armin clenched his muscles and willed himself to stay quiet as Janet pressed a slow line of kisses down his neck. He could have easily pushed her away, but it wasn't her strength that kept him pinned there; it was her will.
'No,' she said quietly but fiercely when he tried to move his hand to caress her. 'You'll stay still until I say otherwise.'
He groaned for more than one reason. 'You're very bossy.'
She mostly ignored that, although she paused to suck on a particularly sensitive spot near the base of his neck, which made him arch up against her without meaning to.
'...And I think you really like this suit,' he added slyly.
At that, Janet lifted her head, a contemplative look on her face. 'It does look very good on you. The dark blue jacket especially. Very handsome.' She fondled a corner of the aforementioned jacket. Armin had never felt comfortable in formal attire, but Janet had had her eye on him constantly during tonight's dinner party. Almost as soon as they'd gotten home and put the kids to bed, she'd jumped him. It happened rarely enough that he couldn't help suspecting his clothes were the reason.
'I'll keep that in mind,' he said. 'But I can't promise to ever wear these things again.'
She gave him a rare grin - a knowing grin - and proceeded to gently kiss him. The blue jacket was eventually discarded, and everything else soon followed.
An owl swept through the night sky, silent and pale as a snowflake. They were far from the city now, and the stars were much more visible above Riverside than they ever were at home.
Janet rested her head on Armin's shoulder and gazed blankly at the distant river - little more than a line of ink bleeding across the land. Back in the cosy farmhouse behind them, Fred and Juliet slept. Now aged nine and seven respectively, they were becoming more and more individual, more like people instead of just little kids. Both she and Armin looked forward to seeing them find their independence, while simultaneously dreading the day their home would be quiet again.
They weren't going to have any more. That had already been decided upon. At thirty-six, Janet was already old enough that having children would be… not impossible, but harder. She was happy with what they had, and Armin only supported her. But it was strange to think that this was it. Fred and Julie were their children, and when they left home, it would be her and Armin again, just like how things had started. Except they would be old by then.
Life is so fleeting, she thought, knowing in a moment of despair that she would never have time to do all the things she wanted.
'You alright?' said Armin softly, gazing down at her.
'Just thinking,' she replied.
'About what?' He didn't sound rude, just curious.
'It's hard to explain. But it's nothing to worry about.' She stretched up to kiss him, not wanting to disturb his tranquility. He was always so happy when they visited his childhood home.
He lightly rested his forehead against hers. 'You seem a bit… downtrodden.'
'It's nothing, I promise. Now can we go back to admiring the scenery?' she said, trying to dispel the lingering hint of worry in his face.
The future wasn't worth dwelling on, she decided. It was absurd to think so far ahead. Right now, she had two young children who needed her, and she and Armin were still young, too. They had nearly a lifetime left together.
A drizzly morning in September that year was the last time she saw him. He left for work and when he didn't return, she clung to the memory of his gentle smile and the warmth of his final, unknowing goodbye hug.