Evaline:
Kieran had always been quiet, but tonight his presence was louder than thunder to .
I froze when I realized he was watching. My hand stilled on the half-undone button of my nightshirt, my breath caught as if he had stolen the very air out of my lungs. One look from him... one look into those warm golden-green eyes... was enough to tell he understood. Without a word, he turned away and returned to his side of the bed.
Relief washed over in waves. He had given space without needing to ask. That simple gesture, that quiet care, made my chest ache in the gentlest way.
I turned my back toward him, finally unbuttoning my nightshirt and guiding my son to nurse. The room filled with silence, except for the soft suckling sounds of the pup, the faint rustle of fabric, the whisper of my own heartbeat against my ribs. Slowly, curiosity got the better of , and I peeked over my shoulder.
What I found made smile.
Kieran hadn’t just turned his back to . He had curled onto his side, his broad shoulders a protective wall, his back a silent shield. It wasn’t distance, it was protection, a way to make feel safe even while I fed our child.
The smile on my lips ca unbidden, soft and tender. He always did this... he made room for , gave choices, respected the spaces I didn’t know how to ask for.
Once the baby was done, I shifted him gently in my arms to nurse on the other side, careful to prevent the uncomfortable ache of milk leaking. When his belly was finally full, I fixed my nightshirt and carefully adjusted my hair, tucking it behind my ears. My heart felt lighter sohow.
"Professor," I called softly, my voice hardly above a whisper. "You can turn now."
He rolled onto his back first, then to his side, his gaze imdiately seeking out our son. By then, the little one was wide awake, kicking his tiny feet and waving his fists in the air as though he was ready to wrestle the world.
A laugh escaped . The sound drew a small smile from Kieran - one of those rare, unguarded ones that lted his usual solemnity. He sat up and crossed his long legs on the mattress, scooting closer until he was directly in front of . His large hand reached out, careful and deliberate, and he wrapped his fingers around our pup’s tiny hand.
My breath caught again, though for a completely different reason this ti.
Every now and then, our gazes locked. And every ti, I felt my heart stumble in my chest, skipping beats, tumbling over itself as though it couldn’t keep up. Just a week ago, I never thought I could look at him like this without feeling weighed down by guilt. But things had changed. He wasn’t just my mates’ brother or my professor anymore. He was mine now. Entirely, wholly mine.
"If your heart doesn’t calm down soon," he murmured suddenly, his thumb stroking the baby’s hand, "it might end up jumping out of your chest."
My mouth fell open. Heat flared up my neck and into my cheeks, and I instantly slapped my free hand against my chest, as though I could muffle the wild rhythm he had noticed. His lips twitched, a shadow of amusent tugging at the corners.
The mortification in doubled when he tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with a quiet curiosity. "Tell , Evaline... when exactly did you fall in love with ?"
His question was like a lightning strike - unexpected, sharp, and impossible to ignore. My throat went dry. Words tangled on my tongue, caught sowhere between truth and anxiety.
"I..." I gulped. "I don’t have an exact ti. It wasn’t one mont... it was... everything. Over ti, I just realized what I felt for you wasn’t just respect or gratitude anymore. It... it was more."
The weight of my confession hung between us, fragile and delicate like glass. I feared he might press , ask for more I wasn’t ready to unravel. But he didn’t. He simply gave a soft nod, accepting my words for what they were, no questions asked. Relief flooded again.
Instead, we turned our focus to the pup. His little fingers curled around ours, and for half an hour, ti lost all aning. We played with him, laughed quietly at his small antics, and just... existed. Together.
When his movents grew sluggish and his eyes fluttered drowsily, I whispered to Kieran, "Here, let show you a trick."
I shifted the pup onto my lap, his tiny head resting comfortably against my thigh. Gently, I swayed my leg side to side, slow and rhythmic. Within minutes, his eyelids grew heavy, and then he was fast asleep.
We both chuckled softly, the sound mixing in perfect harmony, before I carried him to the crib and tucked him in.
When I returned to the bed and slid beneath the blanket, I realized quickly that sleep wouldn’t co to easily a second ti tonight. Not with Kieran lying right beside . My thoughts were an endless storm - mories, confessions, the way his eyes had burned into .
I tried closing my eyes, tried breathing slowly, but my heart betrayed every ti.
That was when I felt the movent. A shift in the mattress and the soft rustle of fabric. I turned my head and found him turning toward , edging closer until there was hardly any space left between us.
Then, without a word, he reached for my hand. His fingers slipped between mine, warm and steady, entwining them as though they belonged there all along.
"Close your eyes," he said gently.
I obeyed.
"Take a deep breath."
I inhaled shakily, then released it, my chest loosening under the weight of his voice.
"Again," he murmured. His thumb brushed over my knuckles, grounding in ways I didn’t know I needed.
When my breaths steadied, he continued, "Now... imagine tomorrow. Imagine how you’ll spend it... with our son."
Images filled my mind without resistance. Morning sunlight spilling into the room, the pup’s tiny fingers grasping mine, laughter echoing through the house. Kieran’s voice guided through each breath, each thought, until my heart finally slowed to a gentle rhythm.
Sowhere between his words and my own imagination, sleep tugged at . My last conscious mory was of his hand holding mine, steady and warm, as though he would never let go.
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