Still taking prompts? Carina feeling emotional over Maya learning/knowing Italian.
You got it, dude. Canon-compliant for your reading pleasure.
Carina smiles as she steps through the front door, the smell of dinner on the stove wafting down the hallway to greet her.
They’ve been in their new home all of three weeks and already they’ve fallen into a symbiotic routine – one she finds herself endlessly enamoured by. A warm meal waiting for whoever’s last to arrive home, a load of laundry in the dryer before bed each night, swapping shifts to rise when Liam cries out at 2am to be fed.
There’s balance forming, now that they’re here. Balance and love and support that seemed so far away, so farfetched, just a year ago.
“I’m back!” she calls out as she wanders into the kitchen, heavy grocery bags dangling from her hands. She can’t wait until they renovate this space; can’t wait until there’s more room on the counters and in the pantry for all the things she has to keep slipping out to buy.
Mela, a slightly robotic voice says.
Carina frowns, turning towards the sound, groceries piled half on the counter and half in the sink. She lets them tumble from her grasp, traipsing down the hallway after yet another Ding! echoes from the nursery.
Arancia, the robotic voice says.
“Arancia,” Maya repeats, her voice so whisper soft Carina barely hears it. “That’s an orange.”
She’s leaned back in the plush rocking chair they’d settled on for the nursery, Liam curled in her lap with his eyelids fluttering as he tries desperately to pay attention to the phone she holds in front of them.
Elefante, the robotic voice inside the screen says next.
“Elefante,” Maya replicates, lips pressed to the side of Liam’s cap-covered head. “You know elephant.”
“Oh, you know this one, too,” Maya whispers, smiling softly. “Mamma says buona notte every night before we go to sleep.”
“Sì,” Carina murmurs, stumbling into the gravity that’s dragging her across the room towards them. “Buona notte means good night.”
Maya nods, turning just enough for Liam and his heavy eyelids to catch a glimpse of Carina as she leans over the arm of the chair to kiss his cheeks. “And ciao is hello.”
His little face splits into a grin, reaching for his mamma even as he fights a losing battle with sleep. “Ah,” he chirps.
“I got a few lessons ahead of him,” Maya explains, setting her phone aside on the dresser. She tips Liam backwards in her arms, laying his head in the crook of her elbow with a practiced ease. He gazes up at her with a toothless smile, nearly giving in to the weight of his eyelids. “So, we had to go back and review what he missed.”
“Sì,” Maya nods, looking down at their baby boy with a ferocity of love that causes a clench of something deep and primal and unquantifiable in Carina’s chest. “Apple is mela. That’s your favourite, I know.”
One of those tiny, perfect fists finds its way into Liam’s mouth and then, finally, he loses the fight. Finally, his eyes close and he tumbles into sleep.
And that feeling in Carina’s chest seems to explode.
She leans forward, reaching for Maya with a desperation she can’t quite explain. Tugging, needy, until their lips connect. Until she can try to convey with her body what she doesn’t have English words for.
Ti amo. Ho bisogno di te. Sono così perdutamente innamorato di te.
Maya won’t understand them all – not yet.
But she will. One day, she will.
