Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII.
It was getting colder, but Yuffie didn't mind. Vincent had been asleep nearly all day, and there was no possible way she could actually carry him. Yuffie began thinking, why was he so heavy? He looked so skinny. She'd have to mark those cookies off of her grocery list; he ate them far too often.
She began to wonder how he had come into this deep sleep he was in. It was true he liked to nap here, but only in the afternoons, not this late into the evening. Everything short of beating his head in wouldn't wake him up, and she was getting worried that he could be eaten by a monster wandering around.
She laughed at herself, she should've known better than to think a monster would be around any part of Kalm. Even if it was a park that looked like a small forest, it had been built just after they had moved there.
Vincent began to stir, and as soon as his eyes opened to see the darkened sky he shot up. He was cursing himself on the inside for sleeping so long. "Worried that I'd be angry?"
He spun to look at her, "Why are you here?"
"I was a little concerned about you. Now help me up, I'm cold and hungry." He complied and went to help her.
"You should've stayed at home." He was a little concerned.
She ignored him. "When you get fat you get so cold all of the time."
"You're not fat." He placed his hand on her swollen stomach.
"Yeah, Yeah, pregnant." She began walking towards the house they shared, with his help of course. "You better not be going off to take naps in the park when the baby comes."
"Of course not." His mouth upturned slightly, what could almost be called a smile. Yuffie stopped, and let a muffle of pain. Vincent was worried, "Is it the baby?"
She paused, still groaning a little, "No, my ankle hurts."
Vincent was relieved that it wasn't a premature labor, as she was due in three more weeks. He picked her up effortlessly and began carrying her back to their home. She was content with not having to walk home anymore, but he seemed to carry her and their unborn child a little bit too easily.
"I'm not going to buy you cookies anymore." She rubbed her face against his shoulder, much like what a cat would do.
"You're too heavy for me to even drag."
"That's because I'm taller than you."
"Are you calling me short."
"Not at all my petite wife." She smacked him, and he knew that he kind of deserved that. "What do you want for dinner when we get home?"
She seemed to purr, "I dunno." She shrugged in his arms. "How about spaghetti?"
"We had that yesterday."
"Well, you can make it again!"
He seemed to smile again. "Alright, spaghetti it is."
"And those meatballs you make too."
"And meatballs." He chuckled.