sundown | mutant au

Nate smiles as the fire pops up. He notices the way she grasps him and he lifts her hand to his lips, reassuring her with a kiss.

When she sits, he lowers himself to the ground in front of her. He guides her feet up onto an ottoman.

"A bit of me, bit of you." Things he's seen on TV, things she remembers, things they've read about. He peels her shoes off her feet, replacing them with his hands. He rubs her feet with slow, firm circles. When he looks up at her, he looks absolutely besotted with her.

"And her." He finishes his thought, finally. His eyes fall to her stomach, smiling.

Fran watches him a little too attentively, as if he might disappear at any given moment.

She wasn't wearing shoes a moment ago, but now he's pulling her feet free of them. That tickles something inside her. His hands encourage a sigh, her back arching with newfound relief.

" -- oh. That's lovely."

She notices his smile. Under his eye, her hand smooths over the roundness of her belly. A surge of pride swells her chest. Less and less does she want to show off their child; not for lack of pride, but for a burgeoning sense of unease. Protectiveness.

"She's gotten so much stronger. And clever, too. I think she'll be as strong as you." She bites her lip. "Maybe more."

Briefly, Nate feels a little guilty for finding her reaction arousing. He pushes the feeling down, but it makes his heart thrum anyway.

His smile turns lopsided when she suggests that Hope will surpass him.

"Maybe." Non-committal, mostly to challenge his unborn child. He shifts closer to her, realising he's never been this close to a woman this pregnant. It makes him feel a little too much like a rookie for his liking. He doesn't want nerves to control him.

He slips his hand under hers and over her belly, circling slowly and watching carefully.

"I think she'll be kind like you."

"Hm." She hums back, chin tilting so that her hair falls over her ear. She felt that stir of passion, only for it to be tempered. Nevertheless.

"Doesn't feel very kind when she's beating on my bladder." Hardly much of a complaint. If she really wanted to get into it, the state of her would be enough -- but being here has returned some of the color to her face, diminished the shadows under her eyes, and soothed the sharpness that has hollowed her softness to angles.

All in jest. She's very evidently basking in his attention, the sweep of his hand. Her eyes flutter shut, briefly, but her hand circles his wrist, pressing her thumb against his steady pulse. She's quiet for a few beats.

"I missed you. And I don't want to go back."

"I'm sure she can't help it." Nate reasons, though there's a tone in there that suggests Hope should consider not doing that anymore. Some things he can't control.

Wanting to be closer, he tucks his head against her stomach and shuts his eyes as well. He feels truly robbed now, knowing how good this feels. Nothing feels worth giving it up again.

"I'm here now." He assures her, it's all he can offer her.

"I'm going to fix it." He has absolutely no idea how, but he feels resolute about it now. If he loses his girls, he'll never recover. For now other than assurance, he's offering what he can in the way of washing his power over her body. Letting her absorb some of his energy, soothing her nerve ends and her nausea.

He's all but climbing the chair to get closer to her, but it's not practical nor comfortable for her. When he plants his hands either side of her head, the world goes topsy turvy for a second as she shifts from sitting upright to her back.

She lands gently, but with enough oomph to make the fluffy quilt of the bed underneath her puff out air. The movement also flicks rose petals up into the air around her.

mutant au | cable

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