Five months in the Northwest taigas, some of its days to visit their cousin clan over the borders. Nathaniel wouldnât have been surprised if he grew a stubble. Alas, he rubbed a hand over his smooth jaw that never made anything but a gentle sparkle under a sliver of sunlight.
Coming back to their half-abandoned Manor just outside of Forks wasnât a choice, but simply something a wind-up doll would do, string pulling him back to place. Every step was just body memory sliding in place. Nathaniel had learned to keep his mind quiet.
Miles away he could hear hushed sounds from the Manor, and maybe he faltered in his steps, hesitant to see anybody there, but what brought him to a full stop was minutes later when the scent hits his nose.
What willed him to continue was anger. Heâs learned to be as quiet as he ran as his brothers but it wasnât without fury. He entered through the front door because fuck it, itâs his house too.
âWhat are you doing here.â he tried to breathe through his mouth, coming in the front door. Months without human interaction, he didnât know his limits now. Back then he was domesticated. Right now he wasnât sure anymore. Nathaniel threw his backpack at the marble floor before he met her eyes, angry to his bone. âWhat the fuck did you even come back for?â His eyes landed to her face, her beautiful face, etched in his cursed perfect memory that he sees even when he closes his eyes, even when heâs looking at another girlâs face. But soon his eyes follow her hands, and see just what the hell heâs in for.
@thecullensdearesttiffany
(cont)
âMine,â he breathed. He felt his knees go weak, and his chest felt as if the bindings had loosen and it was like the pain of the last few months left him.
The distance between them suddenly felt too much.
He flitted to her side and knelt on the floor by her feet, pressed his face against her thigh. With a shaking hand he reached out for her belly and slowly a smile split his face. Nateâs hand, cold and pale against the huge mound of her where their children lie sleeping.
Theirs. âMine,â he breathes again. âOh my god, two of them. Iâm a papa nowâŠâ If he could cry, he would. He felt so young, and he is, and heâs so scared that heâll end up like his own father. But damn it if he wasnât stubborn and try his best. For his children, for her.
Nathaniel looked up at Tiffany with a fond smile, wanting so much to know the words to tell her heâs so happy. He clasped her warm hand with his and interlaced their fingers together. Theyâre going to be a familyâŠ
âI love you. Do you know that?â It felt easy saying the words. He thought heâll never say it, he thought heâll be too angry to ever will, too scared heâll look foolish. But at that moment it felt right.
The tears Tiffany had been trying to hold back finally came flooding down her cheeks as he came to her side. She clung to his hand when he laced their fingers together, pulling them to her lips and kissing each knuckle. At his words, she stopped everything she was doing, even breathing for moment, her grip failing.
She never in a million years thought she would be able to hear those words come from his mouth. Replaying the scene in her head over and over again to convince herself that it had really happens, she managed to mumble âGod- I love you too...â in a barely audible voice that she knew he could still hear.
The dark haired girl leaned forward as much as she could with her giant, ballooning stomach and grabbed his face in her hands. She did her best to pull him up to meet her lips in a passionate kiss, hoping he would help her.
