Chapter 182: Nesting

*Runze’s POV*

By the time I reach our bedroom, Bael has already disappeared into the bathroom.

The door is pulled half-open, and a thick cloud of warm steam drifts lazily out into the bedroom, smelling like his cedarwood soap. The sound of rushing water echoes against the tiles.

I step inside the bathroom, the heat instantly warming my face. Through the frosted glass of the shower, I can see the tall, dark blur of his silhouette moving under the water.

He notices me through the misted glass and smiles.

"I thought you were staying downstairs with Grandmother."

"I changed my mind," I say, leaning against the marble counter.

His small, low laugh echoes over the sound of the shower. "So I see."

The shower is quick and quiet.

Bael insists on washing my hair himself, keeping me still under the warm stream because he still doesn’t want me stretching my arms too much. His wet hands are gentle against my scalp as we talk softly about the doctor’s notes.

But once we dry off, I run into a minor problem.

The first two shirts I pull from my side of the wardrobe have become slightly uncomfortable. The fabric pulls tight and pinches across my stomach the moment I try to move.

With a soft sigh, I throw them onto the bed and walk over to open Bael’s wardrobe instead.

He stands by the mirror, a white towel wrapped around his waist, watching me curiously as he dries his hair with a smaller towel.

"What are you looking for?"

"A temporary solution," I mutter, rummaging through his neatly folded rows.

I pull out one of his plain white button-down shirts and slide my arms into the sleeves. It is huge on me. The shoulder seams drop past my arms, and the hem hangs all the way down to my thighs, completely covering my shorts. But it is soft, loose, and doesn’t press against my stomach at all.

Comfortable. Much more comfortable.

Bael stops rubbing his hair, his towel lowering as he looks me up and down slowly. His eyes darken just a fraction, his gaze lingering on the way his shirt drapes over my frame.

"...It suits you," he says softly.

"It also fits," I say, smoothing down the front.

A soft huff sounds right behind me as Bael steps closer. Warm arms wrap around my waist, his hands settling over my stomach. I lean back against his solid chest, feeling his chin rest lightly against my shoulder.

"We’ll need to go shopping soon," he murmurs.

Before I can even answer, a sudden movement ripples beneath my skin—a firm, deliberate poke from the inside.

I flinch, my breath catching as my hand instantly flies to my stomach to cover the spot.

Bael feels the sudden movement. He tilts his head, watching the way my hand is pressed against my bump.

"Did it kick again?"

"Yes," I whisper.

Bael reaches down, placing his hand directly over mine. Slowly, I slip my fingers out from under his, letting his bare palm rest flat against the thin white fabric of the shirt.

We stay still, barely breathing.

A second later, another tiny, distinct thud pushes right against his palm.

Bael’s eyes widen ever so slightly. He usually looks so calm and unbothered, but when this happens, he looks completely fascinated.

"...Hello," he says, his voice dropping into a low, private whisper meant only for my stomach. He lets out a quiet, breathless laugh that vibrates against my back. "So you’re awake now."

His thumb begins to rub slow, soothing circles over the spot, pressing just enough to feel the baby moving inside.

"Be good," he orders softly. "Don’t kick your parent so hard."

Then, he pauses, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

"Actually... be good like your father," he adds, his voice serious. "I mean me. Don’t learn stubborn habits from this one."

I turn around in his arms, twisting so I am facing him directly, my hands coming to rest on his bare shoulders.

"...Excuse me?"

His face remains straight, not a single muscle moving.

"You heard me."

I narrow my eyes at him, leaning forward slowly, tilting my chin up as though I intend to give him a sweet kiss. He falls for it instantly, closing the remaining distance automatically, his eyes drifting shut.

Instead of kissing him, I tilt my head and bite his lower lip. It isn’t hard enough to break the skin, just enough to leave a stinging pinch.

"Ow," he grunts, pulling back an inch, though his hands stay locked around my waist.

"You’re the stubborn one," I say, huffing a breath against his nose.

At that exact moment, a loud, hollow squeeze rumbles from my stomach, breaking the quiet in the bedroom.

I freeze, my face instantly burning hot.

Bael looks down at my stomach, then looks back up at my face. Slowly, the corners of his eyes crinkle, and a deep, low chuckle shakes his chest. He starts laughing, a genuine, relaxed sound that makes my heart swell.

I groan, burying my face flat against his bare chest to hide my red cheeks.

"Don’t laugh."

"You’ve become very predictable," he teases, his arms wrapping tightly around my back, pulling me flush against him.

"I have not."

"You’ve been hungry every three hours lately. It’s like clockwork."

"I am growing a human being," I mumble into his skin, my voice muffled. "I have an excuse."

"Mm." He kisses the top of my head, his chin resting on my hair.

Then he gently tips my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to look at him, and leans down to give me one slow, lingering kiss. It is warm and soft. When he finally pulls away, he smiles down at me.

"Come on," he says, sliding his hand down to hold mine. "Let’s go feed both of you."

I smile, letting him pull me toward the bedroom door. My stomach gives another impatient growl, louder this time, and Bael chuckles under his breath.

"See?" he murmurs.

I roll my eyes, pretending not to hear him, but I don’t let go of his hand. Somehow, walking beside him like this feels just as satisfying as finally sitting down to eat.