noravidal:
Only because it had been a sensitive subject for so long, something Nora always had to keep in the back of her mind– her having to share him with an entire criminal organization, it would take her a while to fully accept this as his final decision– no wonder she had so many doubts about it, all wary and suspicious. On the other hand, it felt natural to trust him because the felt the same kind of feeling, they shared this sense of belonging and mutual understanding.
Her ears perked up, anticipating the end of his sentence, but words failed him (no surprise with Ibrahim Ziani here). Not to mention, the man had to process it all first. Used to focusing on other senses and forms of communication in those particular moments, Nora’s gaze lowered as she, almost studied, his hands on her stomach. His hands– bruised, calloused– had seen war, but as Nora noticed, they felt comforting, gentle, healing– poetically put (if Ibrahim heard this, he’d be teasing her for days). His thoughts wandered, so did hers, reliving their moments, good and the bad and the glorious– imagining moments yet to come, with their little family growing. Eventually, she covered his hands with hers, and the tiny bean as well, if only to remind him he would never be alone again.
“Mm,” she hummed softly, biting back a laugh. “I bought this one, lo que significa que tienes que comprar el siguiente,” she told him in bold Spanish, nuzzling the scruffy cheek and couldn’t help leaving a butterfly kiss on it. Nora, however, was willing to compromise and help him figure out the where portion. “We can– somewhere not too warm though, now that I’ve finally learned how to keep my plants alive,” … mostly thanks to him and Catherine, but alright, her sense of pride brought a beaming smile to her lips anyway. “Promise we will never be obnoxious Americans?” Nora’s pleading eyes widened before an idea popped into her head.
“South America, pick a place. I have friends all around the continent, I’m sure they would help us out.” A beat later, she spoke in a more decisive voice. “No way they’d be able to resist Beastie.” Only half-jesting, she entertained the idea for a while longer. We could go anywhere– the idea gave her butterflies, she’d get whenever Ibrahim himself gave her one of those looks or placed a hand upon her. “I could go anywhere in the world with–” and she burst out laughing before uttering the clumsy nickname Ibrahim had coined for her in those earliest, purely physical stages of their relationship. Clumsy and ridiculous, yet fitting, as time had shown. “My fucking soulmate,”
















