I will not be great, but I'm grateful to get through
Everest stands there in nothing but his boxers, hair flattened on one side from sleep and chest still rising a little faster than usual as the last of the panic works its way out of him. The rain-muted light makes him look pale, the abrupt wakefulness still lingering in the tightness of his shoulders, though as Isla’s hand settles against his arm he begins, slowly, to settle. He swallows, nodding once as she explains, accepting the logic even if his body is still catching up to it. Fern’s complaints soften behind them, and the quiet of the morning begins to stitch itself back together.
Tilting his head slightly, he offers Isla a crooked, almost sheepish smile. "That is true," he concedes. There is a brief pause before he adds, dryly, "However, it is also possible that something improbable had occurred." His brows lift a little as he gestures faintly with one hand, as though outlining the scenario in the air. "For example, I might assume everything is fine, only to discover later that you and Fern have been quietly abducted and are currently being transported to the Fingers for some nefarious purpose, only to then find your trail cold because I assumed that things were fine." He gives a small shrug. The reasoning is not dramatic to him; it is simply how his mind works. If the worst possible outcome is considered first, it is far less likely to catch him unprepared. "I would prefer to panic briefly," he says, the wryness in his voice deepening, "than to overlook something catastrophic because I assumed normalcy."
Even as he says it, the edge of apology creeps back into his expression. His gaze flicks toward the bassinet where Fern now rests, then back to Isla. "I am sorry, though," he says more quietly. "For startling both of you." Ruffling a hand through his hair and then leaning forward to press a kiss against Isla's temple, the contact seemingly more to calm his own nerves than as just a good morning, Ever straightens and nods toward the kitchen. "Shall I make us some tea?"
Tilting his head slightly, he offers Isla a crooked, almost sheepish smile. "That is true," he concedes. There is a brief pause before he adds, dryly, "However, it is also possible that something improbable had occurred." His brows lift a little as he gestures faintly with one hand, as though outlining the scenario in the air. "For example, I might assume everything is fine, only to discover later that you and Fern have been quietly abducted and are currently being transported to the Fingers for some nefarious purpose, only to then find your trail cold because I assumed that things were fine." He gives a small shrug. The reasoning is not dramatic to him; it is simply how his mind works. If the worst possible outcome is considered first, it is far less likely to catch him unprepared. "I would prefer to panic briefly," he says, the wryness in his voice deepening, "than to overlook something catastrophic because I assumed normalcy."
Even as he says it, the edge of apology creeps back into his expression. His gaze flicks toward the bassinet where Fern now rests, then back to Isla. "I am sorry, though," he says more quietly. "For startling both of you." Ruffling a hand through his hair and then leaning forward to press a kiss against Isla's temple, the contact seemingly more to calm his own nerves than as just a good morning, Ever straightens and nods toward the kitchen. "Shall I make us some tea?"
