- 1993.

"I can't believe it's almost time." George looks to me, and we both exchange excited, yet anxious smiles. Our baby was born a few hours ago, but neither of us have seen our son yet due to complications at the time of birth. Both of us have been worried sick, but we've been told that he's doing well now; and we can go in and see him in the next few minutes.

Tears cluster in my eyes, as the experience becomes overwhelming. "We've waited years for this."

George spots my mild distress, walking over to me to comfort me. He places a loving arm around my shoulders, pulling me in to his chest. With a soft kiss to my forehead, he embraces me.

"I know, love," he breathes, "All the waiting has been worth it, though. And we'll get to see our baby before we know it."

No sooner than he's spoken, the door to our baby's room opens; and a nurse exits the room. She spots us stood waiting, so she gives a smile. "Baby's doing very good. You can go in and see him now, if you'd like. Just be mindful of how you pick him up and hold him though — he's still very fragile."

"Thank you," George responds graciously, giving a genuine expression of appreciation. "Your help has been absolutely priceless today."

"It's no worry at all." She nods in acknowledgement, before heading off to another room.

George and I look to one another at the same moment. We both seem to need a minute to mentally prepare ourselves; our lives are about to change forever, and it's a huge deal.

"Are you ready?" I ask him softly, taking his hand in my own.

"More than I could ever say."

He pushes the door open slowly; making a conscious effort not to be too loud as not to disturb our little boy. Gradually, we move closer to where he's laid; I feel George suddenly squeeze my hand tighter in a mix of nerves and joy.

Once we reach him, I carefully lift him up into my arms, holding him to my chest to support him. He's so tiny and precious; my heart feels as though it's somersaulting over and over. My eyes close as I take in the moment through touch; I can't quite believe this is finally happening for us.

"Hello, baby," I mutter, as not to startle him. "You are so perfect."

He makes sweet little sounds, which are only just audible even with him being so close to me. My eyes open, and I notice that George has tears in his eyes; as well as an expression of desperation to hold his new son.

"You want to go and meet your daddy now?" I ask rhetorically, giving George a mellow smile. Cautiously, I move the baby from my chest, passing him to George.

As soon as they come into physical contact with one another, George's tears spill over his lashes; and he almost seems to freeze in place. His eyes follow our son's sweet face as he makes differing expressions; he seems in awe of the miniature life he holds in his arms.

"My god," he whispers, overcome with emotion. "L-Look how gorgeous you are. Just look at you, little man, hey?" His tears begin to melt into soft chuckles, as he gently rocks his body side to side. "I love you more than anything on this earth ... I swear." He turns his head, as if looking for something; when he finds a chair conveniently positioned against the wall, he heads over to it to take a seat.

Once he's settled, George crosses one leg over the other, using his lap as a means of supporting the baby's body in his arms. All the while, he doesn't take his eyes off of him. Not even for a moment. He seems totally in love already, and yet it's only been a few minutes.

"You're already the best father," I assure him, feeling my chest expanding due to the inability to comprehend the level of cuteness I'm witnessing before me. "We need a name for him, don't we?"

"We do," he sighs, before placing a kiss upon our baby's fuzzy little head of nearly-nonexistent hair. "Did we even come up with any in the nine months leading to today?"

"I don't know." My mind tries to trace back, but to no avail. "But were there any you liked? That you've never mentioned?"

"Hm," he hesitates, a look of concentration evident as he thinks. "I don't know either. Will the name be English or Greek?"

"How about both?" I suggest. "We can give him a first and middle name. One of each."

"How about I choose the Greek name, and you choose the English?" he follows up, finally looking at me for a moment. "Seems like a good compromise, doesn't it?"

"Alright; that's what we'll do," I agree. "It has to fit together nicely though."

"I'd like his middle name to be Kyriacos ... after my father and I," he decides, already smiling at the idea. "Is that alright with you?"

"Of course it is. But what first name could possibly go with that?" My brows furrow in contemplation. "Uh, Michael? No ... Anthony? That doesn't sound right either."

"You'll figure it out," he reassures me, his attention back on our currently-nameless child. "And whatever you choose will be perfect for him."

"How about Alexander? Does that sound right? Alexander Kyriacos Panayiotou?" My eyes avert to our son, as I try to imagine calling him Alexander, or Alex for short, all his life.

"I just thought of a name, but you might not like it," George interrupts my train of thought, "Um, I liked Lysander. It's ... got Greek origins, so you can say no if you like. I just remembered hearing the name one time and it stuck with me. But if you want the English name still, then by all means. I just thought I'd put that one out there."

His idea actually excites me. "George, I love that name. Do you think it sounds nice? Lysander Kyriacos Panayiotou?"

Just hearing the name all together brings him to tears. "It sounds amazing. I love it." He uses one hand to quickly wipe his eyes, so that he can see properly. "Please tell me we can go with that."

"It's perfect." Finally satisfied, I approach the pair of them, standing over George with a loving arm on his shoulder. "What a perfect little boy you are, Lysander."

"Isn't he just?" George beams proudly. "I still can't believe how ... how brilliant he is. He's more than I ever could have dreamed of."

"And he's going to grow up and be an amazing person just like his daddy." To show my appreciation to him, I bend down to kiss his head. "And if he grows up to be half the man you are, I'll be very lucky indeed."

He uses the freedom he has with one arm, to take my hand in his. From this physical contact, I can feel him shaking slightly — although this isn't too surprising, seeing as though he looks to be on cloud nine right about now.

"Thank you ... both of you," he murmurs, "For changing my life and making it so much better. For making it brighter."

"It'll be a lot of sleepless nights from now on," I chuckle, using my thumb to caress Lysander's cheek. "But my god, it'll all be worth it when I get to spend hours awake looking at the pair of you."

George laughs at my comment, knowing that all the sacrifice will be for a good cause. "I just can't believe we finally did it. We're finally a family."

"Me either. God knows, I love you George," I tell him.

He sighs contently, "And God knows, I love you too."

For the rest of the day, we stay within our room; within our bubble; with unconditional love surrounding us — as we enjoy the first day of being our sweet little family of three.

~~

Had to write this one, as the idea of George being a dad just drives me insane! I mean, how cute would that have been?
Hope you liked this one! xx