this is the golden age of something good and right and real // leo & estella
Estella had only managed a couple of moments with her baby before sleep had overcome her, dragging her tired body down into unconciousness. Still, holding her daughter in her arms was more than worth forcing herself to stay awake; she mentally tried to document every second, making her drowsy brain acknowledge every inch of the tiny girl’s face, body, hands, the warmth radiating from her and the weight she pressed against Estella’s chest.
The second she’d been placed in Estella’s arms, some maternal instinct must have kicked in because she found she wasn’t terrified of holding the small body, the weight comfortably settled in her arms without fear of hurting her.
After reluctantly allowing the nurse to take the baby to the cot, Estella had caught Leo’s hand and dopily smiled at him; their little girl was finally here.
A few hours later, she was roused from her sleep by the mattress dipping beneath her. She could tell it was Leo from the warmth and smell coming from the body next to her, but she resisted waking up for a few more moments, wanting to gain every bit of energy that she could before having to face the day. That is, until she heard him speak when her eyes flew open.
Mummy.
“Mommy.” She corrected sleepily, shifting so she could see their daughter, curled up in Leo’s arms. A swell of pride surged through her at the sight of the miracle a New York bookworm and a lost Londoner had managed to create together.
“She’s beautiful.” She nudged Leo playfully, careful not to jolt his arms and disturb the baby. “Well done.”
She kissed his shoulder then lay her head against it. “She needs a name.” She commented softly as she lifted a sleep heavy hand and gently stroked the downy hair, the same flame shade as her father’s.
“We are not pulling that shit with our daughter.” Leo said, the words trickling from his lips instinctively. He’d read something in the baby books about their baby being able to hear him and recognise his voice before even being born, and he’d really tried to get a hand on the swearing, but nothing had proved effective so far. He ran a hand over the back of her tiny hand as though to apologise for the vulgarity that had come from him, quietly adding, “She’s Mummy, isn’t she? We’re going to call her Mummy.”
He glanced sideways slightly, managing to tear his gaze away from the tiny bundle in his arms long enough to press his lips to her temple. The man didn’t know when he’d made the transition from hating to being touched to wanting to be close to Estella all the time. Hardly a moment passed when he wasn’t brushing her hair off her face or kissing her awake, and scarily, it all felt like second nature to him.
“I hardly did anything.” he admitted in a low tone, his voice a soft rumble so as not to disturb the child. Her eyes seemed as though they were fighting to stay open, to peer up at her parents. “Not on purpose, anyway.”
He grinned at her cheekily, watching as she extended a delicate hand, moving smoothly over the small patch of ginger hair that adorned her head. That, Leo was very proud of. He was certain there’d be jokes from Lily, Bee and his siblings, but for once Leo wouldn’t feel so hard up about being laughed at. All his sensibilities had been soothed with the birth of his daughter, and nothing was going to bring him down today.
“She does.” he said, settling back against Estella’s pillows slightly. “I thought it would be easier once I knew what she looked like. Didn’t you?”
