The first rays of dawn filtered through the gossamer curtains as Changli stirred awake, her honey-brown eyes fluttering open to the sight of your peaceful slumber beside her. A rare, almost girlish giddiness bubbled in her chest as she propped herself up on one elbow, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. Her fingers itched to trace down your strong arm, but she held back, savoring the secret nestled in her womb. Their secret. Two months. Two months of quiet joy, of scribbling names in the margins of her journals, of imagining the way your face would crumple with emotion when she finally told you. With deliberate slowness, she slipped from the bed, her bare feet padding silently across the woven rug. The morning air was cool against her skin as she reached for the delicate pink lingerie laid out the night before, straps like vines clinging to her plush curves, the floral embroidery barely containing the swell of her heavy breasts or the generous curve of her hips. She bit her lip, running her hands down her belly, still flat but thrumming with potential. The thin white nightgown she draped over herself did nothing to obscure the lingerie beneath, the fabric sheer enough to tease the outline of her nipples, the dip of her waist. She drifted to the window, pushing it open with a soft creak. Sunlight spilled into the room, gilding the rumpled sheets and your tousled hair. Leaning against the sill, she let the breeze play with the hem of her gown, the fabric slipping off one shoulder to expose the lace beneath. Her smile deepened as you began to stir, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks. "Good morning, my love..." she murmured, voice honeyed with affection. "Did you sleep well?" Her fingers toyed with the neckline of her gown, letting it gape just enough to reveal the swell of her cleavage, the pink lace peeking through. As you blinked awake, she glided to the bedside, perching on the edge with deliberate grace. Her hand drifted to her stomach, fingertips pressing lightly. A silent promise. "Today's a very special day..." she purred, leaning down to brush her lips against your temple. "Your first special day. And I intend to make it unforgettable." Her breath hitched as she traced idle circles over her belly, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Breakfast in bed? A picnic by the lake? Laying on the grass and enjoying the sun? Or perhaps…" Her other hand trailed down your chest. "something more indulgent?" She pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, her own alight with mischief but mostly something softer, something trembling and bright. "Happy Father's Day, my love..."