shut up, you know that I love you

Isla

"Then birch is more than fine - it sounds like the best choice," Isla agrees with a small but decisive nod, resisting the urge to reach up and clasp Ever's cheeks and to scatter his face with kisses - just. And she is just as pleased to have his agreement with the driftwood mobile, nodding eagerly and stilling only so he can deliver a much wanted smooch to her forehead. "I would like that," she says. "Maybe we can go for a walk on the beach this evening and see if we can find any good pieces?" It won't be a stiflingly hot for Everest that way; Isla of course doesn't mind it one bit, and hopefully the same is therefore true of their daughter.

As the aviator moves to gather up the samples, Isla heads towards the little kitchenette to pour a glass of iced tea for them both. "It went really well, yeah," she says softly, smile quietly joyful at the memory of the conversation. "He was thrilled. Everyone I've told has been excited, honestly." She opts not to mention the darker parts of her conversation with the Flood, the parts centred on his own relationship. "And how did Mateo take it? And your parents?" she asks, bringing the tea over to offer Ever his glass.

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

Everest

Everest smiles at her suggestion and nods, the idea settling neatly into place. "An evening walk sounds good," he says, already picturing the light softening over the water, the heat easing into something manageable. "We can take our time." It sounds right, balanced in a way he appreciates.

He continues sorting the wood with careful attention, fitting each piece back into the container it came from so nothing rubs or catches. When he glances up at Isla again, his cheeks are dimpled, and his smile is genuinely pleased. "I’m glad," he says simply, hearing the happiness in her voice when she speaks of Sunjata. It matters to him that she’s been met with warmth, not that he could even fathom anything else.

At the mention of Mateo, a soft chuckle slips out of him. "He was excited," he says, then lifts his brows with deliberate emphasis. "Very excited." The memory is fond, a little amused, and comforting all at once.

Ever straightens just in time to accept the glass of iced tea, fingers curling carefully around it. At her question about his parents, he tilts his head slightly, considering how to put it into words. "They send their love," he says first, earnest and steady. "My mother was...delighted, and somehow unsurprised." A faint smile tugs at his mouth. "My father was very polite about it." He shrugs lightly, perfunctory politeness in the face of panic more or less the norm for a man like Finn.

even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through

Isla

Sipping at her drink, Isla waits until Ever is satisfied with the arrangement of his wood (hurr) before heading for the sofa, suddenly very much wanting to get off her feet. "Oh I bet he was," she says with a chiming laugh, easing herself to sink down into the cushions. "I can well imagine him as an uncle," she adds, a hand resting on her belly and her smile turning warm and amused. "And I look forward to seeing what our baby's first houseplant ends up being." And as they've said before, so long as it isn't toxic, she's perfectly content.

Raising a brow as Ever pivots to his parents' reactions, Isla grins around another sip of iced tea. "I can't wait to see them in person," she says - circumstances aside, it will be nice to have Tobi and Finn so close. "It seems like we'll have a broad choice of babysitters to pick from very soon. Not that I have any intention of needing them for a fair while."

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

Everest

Everest watches her settle with quiet satisfaction before moving himself, dragging a footstool over with his heel and nudging it into place in front of the sofa before he sits beside her. The movement is deliberate, practiced, the sort of adjustment that feels necessary rather than thoughtful. Once he’s down, shoulder close to hers without crowding, he lets out a genuine laugh at the image she paints. "As long as Mateo gives her a grace period before expecting her to water it herself," he says, warmth threaded easily through his voice, "I think it'll be just fine."

He gestures gently toward her feet with two fingers, a silent query as to whether she would like her feet rubbed, given she'd mentioned not being able to properly reach them anymore. "They’re getting settled," he says of his parents, nodding slightly. "But...it’ll be good. Having them close, once she’s born." The idea no longer feels overwhelming, just full. He glances up at Isla then, a small smile playing at his mouth. "Does that mean you’re planning to take some time away from the clinic?" he asks softly, "or is our daughter just going to get an early introduction to medicine?"

even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through

Isla

"If he doesn't give her a grace period, I will be giving him a lesson in child development that he will find very educational when it comes to both plants and people," Isla says with a smirk, humming a note of gratitude at the footstool and shifting to get more comfortable and to put her feet up. At the offer of a footrub, though, she shakes her head gently, cocking a grin towards Ever. "I will need that more in a few weeks, I bet," she murmurs. "For now it's enough to see my toes and know they are still there." Wiggling said toes for good measure, she settles back into the sofa again.

It does feel good, the idea of having so many people close and supportive - something Isla was missing for so long previously that the idea of it at all was something foreign and unsettling. Now, though? It's a comfort she can't won't take for granted. "Our daughter will be getting an early introduction to medicine regardless," she quips to Ever, shifting enough to drop a gentle kiss to the top of his shoulder. "...Honestly though, I hadn't really thought about it. But I think I might do that - take some time away from the clinic. It's been... well, I can't remember when I wasn't working. It was a way to cope with everything happening around me, but this feels like something worth slowing down for."

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

Everest

Everest can’t help the small, relieved smile that settles in as Isla speaks, something easing in his chest at the certainty in her tone. For all the ways his mind wants to run ahead and catalogue every possible danger, knowing—really knowing—that Isla would protect their child with ferocity and clarity quiets that constant, low simmer of worry in a way very little else can, even if so far it's only to do with hypothetically putting Mateo in his place. 

He nods as she turns down the foot rub, eyes dropping briefly to her feet with an amused grin as she wiggles her toes. "Well, let me know and I'll be happy to," he says lightly, lifting his glass to take a sip of iced tea. 

When she speaks about the clinic, about slowing down, he turns more fully toward her, attention steady and thoughtful. He nods again, this time with understanding rather than amusement. "That makes sense," he says quietly, before pausing to choose his words with care. "With Stormbreak evacuating, the clinic is probably going to have more staff than it ever has. Healers, medics, people who’ll need work once they’re here." He doesn’t frame it as good timing, doesn’t pretend there’s anything fortunate about a city falling from the sky. But his expression softens all the same, acknowledging the small, unexpected balance in the middle of something awful. "It might...make it easier, for you to step back for a bit," he adds.

even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through

Isla

"I will keep you front of mind," Isla says with a sunshiney smile, tipping her head back to let it rest against the plush sofa cushion, a few stray curls falling about her face. As Ever shifts enough to face her she can't help but raise her eyebrows, as if wondering if she's missed something given his sudden attention and focus. And then he speaks, the words quiet and considering, but certain in a way that has realisation dawning over her like a slow wash of morning light.

"...I never considered that. It's a really good point," she says quietly, offering him a small and grateful smile. "Well, then. It's decided - I'll make arrangements at the clinic so everything is ready, and I'll take a step back for a bit once it's time." Time to be a mother. She doesn't say it out loud, but the pleased pink flush to her cheeks makes it obvious. "Thank you, Ever. I'd have probably just kept working without thinking about it, if not for you."

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

Everest

Everest nods, the motion small but deeply felt. So much of this—so much of everything—rests on Isla’s body, her endurance, her patience, and the quiet strength with which she carries it. The thought makes his expression soften, earnest and unguarded, more than happy to drop to his knees to massage her little toe if it would help lighten the load even a little.

He reaches for her hand, fingers closing around hers with gentle certainty. "Whatever timeline you want," he says, voice low and steady. "Working, not working, going back when you’re ready, I’ll support you in all of it." His thumb brushes lightly against her knuckles. He gives a faint shake of his head, blue eyes intent. ['say]"I never want you to feel like you have to choose," he adds. "Or like you’re losing any part of yourself because of this."

even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through

Isla

Isla's fingers close around Ever's giving his hand a warm squeeze, and she shifts to sit a bit closer to let her head loll and rest against his shoulder. His words catch her off guard in a way that has her stomach fluttering - and it's nothing to do with their daughter for once - and her eyes stinging unexpectedly, and gods she doesn't care about anything else in this moment. Not other people's opinions, not Stormbreak falling from the sky, not the clinic or the things they still have to get done. 

"And that," she whispers, "is why we are both so very lucky to have you." Tilting her head up just enough to kiss his cheek, Isla noses against the side of his neck, breathing him in. "I never feel more like myself than when I'm with you," she admits. "And I'm glad to step back for a bit, really. I think I've been working so hard for so long I've forgotten what it's like to rest. Not that having a baby is going to be restful," she adds with a chuckle.

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

Everest

Everest doesn’t move to adjust Isla, doesn’t shift an arm that might angle her awkwardly; instead he stays exactly where he is and tilts his head until it rests gently against hers, a quiet sigh slipping from him as the contact settles. It feels right like this, balanced and unforced, her warmth fitting neatly into the space beside him. Her words catch him off guard, and he blinks, surprised. Not because he doubts her sincerity, but because he is acutely aware of his own rough edges, the moments when the world is too loud or his thoughts too slow or too fast all at once. Still, he smiles, small and genuine, and tucks the sentiment away carefully, something precious to return to later when he needs reminding.

He sets his glass of iced tea down on the table, freeing both hands so he can cover hers completely, fingers enclosing her warmth with quiet intent. A soft chuckle escapes him at her last comment, his head shaking just slightly. "No," he murmurs, amused. "I very much doubt it’s restful."

He pauses, thinking as he often does, curiosity nudging its way in alongside affection. "Canines and felines need less sleep than humans," he adds thoughtfully, as if working it out aloud. After a small shrug, he goes on, "I wonder if sleeping while shifted would make our sleep more efficient, especially when we're getting less of it."

even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through

Isla

Following suit to set down her drink, Isla is happy to surrender her hand to Ever for as long as he'll keep it, and she feels herself relax properly for the first time since getting the envelope at the clinic and reading the notice about Stormbreak. "Still, while it might not be restful, there is a lot about it to enjoy too," she says with a smirk, imagining all those firsts that come along with raising a newborn, all those minute changes that feel monumental because it's a little piece of both of them.

His point about sleep is an interesting one, Isla humming thoughtfully as she considers it. "It's worth a try at least," she says, nodding readily. "I also care much less about where I choose to nap while I'm shifted, so that might help for the really unsettled nights." Grinning now, she peeps up at Ever and tilts her head. "Speaking of naps, if I drop off to sleep here - which I will admit is very likely - there is absolutely no need to move me to the bedroom. Our couch is very comfortable."

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

Everest

Everest nods easily, a quiet sound of agreement humming in his throat. "Oh, absolutely," he says, the certainty in it gentle rather than emphatic. "I don’t think exhaustion is going to cancel out any of that." The firsts, the small moments she’s hinting at, all stack neatly in his mind, not overwhelming so much as strangely bright.

He hums again at her thoughts about sleeping while shifted, already filing it away as a viable solution, and then—unexpectedly—he yawns, the sound soft and almost sheepish. The tension of the day, the emotions, the planning, all seem to loosen their hold at once. He glances down at Isla with a boyish smile, presses another tender kiss to her forehead, and exhales a slow, contented sigh. "I might join you."

He doesn’t rush it. He simply stays where he is, arms settling comfortably around her, holding her close without crowding. The room grows still, the worries of falling cities and future days blurring at the edges, and with Isla warm against him and their daughter resting between them, Everest lets his eyes fall closed and drifts off to sleep.

~FIN

even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through