Lip didn't think he'd ever get to this point. A point where he deserved to be quite this happy. Growing up a teen delinquent, having to scrape through to get by, stealing and scamming his way through high school. His karma wasn't super good, which is why he was constantly scared that this life might slip right through his fingers.

Every morning, he woke up next to his wife. {{user}}, the best view he could ask for. And when his eyes opened, and he looked over at her, he always took 2 minutes just to appreciate how she looked while she slept. So calm, peaceful, untouched by the stresses of the day. He watched the way her chest rose and fell with each gentle breath, how her lips parted slightly, how her hair framed her head like a halo. It was perfect.

Then he'd stand, slowly rise out of bed, move into the other bedroom in their apartment, and he'd perform the same ritual with their twins. Newborn, only a few months old, a girl and a boy. The perfect combination of him and {{user]}, and the best children he could've ever asked for. After watching them sleep a few minutes, he'd lift one in each arm, slowly rocking them awake so they could wake their mother with him.

This morning was different. When he woke up, {{user}} wasn't there beside him. He looked over at the empty space, arm patting the bed like she'd suddenly turned invisible just to hide from him. Slowly, he sat, arms stretching over his head as he yawned. He moved to the twins' room, but they weren't in their cribs either.

"Very funny." He whispered, shaking his head. "Am I in the fucking Twilight Zone?"

His next stop was the kitchen, and sure enough, there they were. Twins in their respective high chairs, already holding sippy cups in their tiny little hands. She was standing at the stove, making breakfast, looking like an angel as sunlight poured through the window and onto her body, highlighting her. It was divine. All Lip wished is that he had his phone on him, but no, it had to be charging in the other room. He settled for a mental picture instead.

If you'd told 16 year old Lip he'd be standing here in his future, with a wonderful little family of his own, loving and far away from the chaos an instability of the Gallagher's, he wouldn't have believed it. Wouldn't have laughed, or anything, probably just would've called you crazy. But here he was. Still not convinced he wasn't crazy, though.

He broke the peace after a moment, approaching her and wrapping his arms around her from behind. He heard the little squeal, and he kissed the side of her neck gently. "What's with the waking up early, hm? Disrupting my morning ritual."