Chapter 218: The Shape of Tomorrow

*Runze’s POV*

The nursery door closes behind us, sealing away the empty room and the sudden weight of everything we have yet to prepare.

For a long moment, neither of us moves away from the doorway. Dusk has settled over the hallway, the dim light stretching long shadows across the floor. My legs feel heavy, the physical toll of the pregnancy catching up to me all at once.

I slip my hands into my pockets and glance sideways at Bael. "Well."

"Well," he repeats softly.

An unexpected wave of exhaustion settles over my shoulders. Pregnancy is strange that way. Some days I feel completely fine, and on others, my body suddenly decides that simply standing upright requires every ounce of energy I possess.

Bael studies my face, taking in my posture before I can mask it. "Tired?"

"A little," I admit.

Without another word, he bends down. One arm slides beneath my knees while the other settles firmly around my back. The floor drops away before I can protest, and I instinctively reach up to wrap my arms around his neck.

"Bael—" I catch my breath, resting my head against his shoulder as he turns down the dimly lit hallway. "We’re only walking to our room."

"Hm."

"You know I can still walk."

"Hm," Bael hums softly, his steps quiet against the floor.

I narrow my eyes. "Are you listening to me?"

"No."

A quiet laugh escapes me. I catch his familiar, clean scent as my eyelids grow heavy. He carries me straight into our bedroom, shutting the door behind us with his foot, and walks across the floor to lower me carefully onto the mattress.

Instead of stepping back, he kneels on the floor, gently sliding the house slippers off my feet one by one and setting them aside. He loosens the top buttons of his shirt, looking far more relaxed in the dim room light than he ever permits himself to look outside these walls.

I lean back against the bedframe, watching the quiet precision of his movements.

"You’ve been unusually affectionate today."

His dark eyes rise to meet mine.

"You were distant at breakfast."

I shift my gaze away, unable to meet his eyes as the guilt catches up to me. "I was caught up in my head."

"You touched my leg twice under the table," Bael says, his tone deadpan, though a rare edge of vulnerability sits beneath it. "And you didn’t look at me once."

I look back at him, caught off guard. "...You were counting?"

"I was paying attention."

I let out a soft breath, unable to argue. Bael rises from the floor and sits on the edge of the mattress beside me, closing the distance between us. His gaze slowly drops from my face to my waist, and his hand follows, his palm resting flat against the curve beneath my robe. His thumb moves in a slow, steady stroke over the fabric.

"Your parents are incompetent," he says quietly to my stomach.

A faint exhale escapes me. "Speak for yourself."

"I am."

Slowly, Bael leans forward, lowering his head until his cheek rests gently against the side of my bump—careful not to put any real weight against me. The sharp, controlled posture he carries in public completely dissolves, leaving him vulnerable in a way other people never see.

"I’m sorry," Bael whispers against my skin, his voice stripped of all its usual corporate coldness. "I’m a clumsy parent. I make mistakes, and I act without thinking. I should have thought about the nursery. The names. I should have planned."

My throat tightens at the raw sincerity in his tone. I reach down, threading my fingers through his dark hair, feeling the subtle tension in his neck as I press him closer.

"We were both unprepared," I whisper, my thumb stroking his nape. "I... I’ll do better, too."

He shakes his head slightly against my skin. "We’ll do better. Together."

Bael stays like that for a long moment, quietly holding the silence while the room darkens around us. When he finally lifts his head, he shifts to lie beside me, pulling me against his chest and drawing the duvet over us both.

I rest my chin against his chest, looking up into his face as my fingers play idly with the top button of his shirt.

"Bael?"

"Hm?"

"What if..." I hesitate, tracing the seam of his collar. "What if it’s a girl?"

"Then it’s a girl," he answers without a second of hesitation.

"And what if it’s a boy?"

"Then it’s a boy." He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead, his thumb lingering near my temple. "It doesn’t matter. It’s our child."

A quiet warmth fills the space beneath my ribs. I lean in a little closer, resting my weight against him. "What do you want them to look like?"

Bael looks down at me, his expression calm. "Like you."

"Why?"

"Because you’re pretty," Bael replies, as if stating an undeniable fact.

Heat immediately rushes straight to my cheeks, reaching all the way to my ears. I turn my face into his shoulder to hide my expression from him.

"I want them to look like you, too," I murmur, lifting my head slightly to press a kiss against his cheek. "Because you’re so handsome."

Bael looks down at me, a subtle, rare smile touching his lips.

"Hmn," he hums softly, the vibration rumbling gently against my chest.

His fingers brush my cheek.

Then he shifts, closing what little space remains between us until his shadow covers me. He moves past my lips, burying his face in the side of my neck.

Slowly, Bael traces the warm tip of his tongue over my earlobe.

A quiet gasp catches in my throat. My hands instantly tighten against the fabric of his shirt.

Bael takes his time, capturing the soft edge of my ear between his lips, teasing it with slow touches and light pressure. My face warms instantly, the familiar embarrassment impossible to hide.

"Bael..." I whisper, my breathing turning uneven in the quiet space.

"Hm?" he breathes against my skin, his lips moving from my ear down toward my jaw.

"The... the baby is listening."

Bael pauses, his dark eyes gleaming with heat as he looks down into my flushed face. His hand slides firmly around my waist, pulling my body against his.

"Then we’ll be quiet," he whispers against my skin.