Whoever built this fucking crib needed to be stabbed in the eye.
Delsin had been sitting in the middle of the nursery for a solid hour and a half, trying to find the right screw that went with a certain part of the crib he had been trying to put together. Had they not elected to just throw all the screws in one baggie and hope for the best, then maybe he would have had the damn thing put together a lot sooner.
He had been doing much better since that first week of withdrawal had been behind him. The first few days were the roughest, rendering Delsin entirely bedridden and unable to even go anywhere other than the bathroom when he felt the nausea kick in again. Then it was dealing with the mood swings, the fluctuating temperatures he felt, and the random urges that swamped him through everything else. But Dahlia had been quick to remind him of why he was doing all of this in the first place. For her, and for their baby boy that was coming in less than a month.
He thought he was being quiet, curses being muttered under his breath if the frustration wasn’t enough to be contained. But once he found the screw he was looking for, he couldn’t help but let out a soft, “Yeah, bitch!” in triumph, grabbing the screwdriver from a toolkit he found in one of the closets by the front door and he started to put the crib together.
Dahlia’s voice had him turn his head to look at her over his shoulder briefly before turning his attention toward his work. Which, really, hadn’t gotten too far from being removed from the box.
“Hey,” he greeted, pushing up from the floor to stand. “Figured I’d help put together the crib… but whoever made it kinda just threw everything together in one container and hoped for the best, so. Trying to figure that out.” He had his arms crossed in front of himself, feeling a little cold even with the sweater on. Delsin nodded toward Dahlia, “Did I wake you up?”
Dahlia’s eyes scanned from Delsin’s face to the scattered parts of the crib that she had bought months ago. Parts were already put together, but the majority of it was spread out on the floor. The other boxes of things that needed to be put together were still leaning up against the wall, such as the rocking chair, the changing table, a dresser, among other things. The only thing she had bought that were up and ready to go were the breast pump and the baby clothes and blankets. It was a bit of a wreck, but she found herself warmed at the thought that Delsin had decided to do it on his own, even though she never pointed out where the nursery would be.
He stood and explained what was happening, to which she smiled and rubbed a hand over her stomach out of habit as she stepped further into the room, careful to watch her feet in case she tripped on a part. Dahlia looked up, her brown eyes gleaming in her own little shred of happiness. He was doing well, which was a good sign. His mood swings weren’t the greatest thing to deal with, but she combated them with some of her own. The two of them together in this house with their own issues was probably qualified to be a circus.
Shortly after Del spoke, she felt Reid kick once, and then a second time. Her heart lifted. She wondered if he did that out of reaction to hearing his father’s voice or not. Maybe it was starting to become a normal, natural thing. She wasn’t entirely sure, but her imagination was making her feel warm about it.
“Um, yeah,” Dahlia said as she tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling at the feeling. “But it’s fine. I didn’t need to sleep that long anyway, but hey, feel this.”
Reid was still kicking once every couple of seconds, not as active as he had been in the past, but he had been quiet while she was sleeping. She moved closer to him, reaching out for his hand to put on her belly, but he had stopped. She looked up at him, her brown eyes glimmering in her happiness as a genuine smile stretched across her lips.
“Say something,” she said. “I think he reacted to the sound of your voice.”
