one touch will make you so reckless you might start feeling
one touch will finally show to me what you can't hide
The moment is built in filigree and glass. It is delicate and beautifully fragile. It is so painfully trapped in the breath of it and she wonders how long this could possibly last. How long could they remain in the eye of this storm, pretending the tail of it was not going to come whipping around the corner to leave them breathless. Pretending like they could live in this semblance of normalcy.
Pretending like they were both not designed to be the end of each other.
But such thoughts fade into the noise of her happiness and she can only observe the snow globe of the moment. She can only press a little tighter, memorize the thrumming of his heart, promise herself that this will be enough. Promise herself that she will not always hunger for more—always want for more.
When he thanks her, she feels her throat close up. She can barely breathe around it and she cannot fight back the tears that make her sage eyes shine. “Thank you,” she whispers back, her voice thick with tears, the intensity of it beating against her chest where she is certain that he must be able to hear it.
“You’re going to be a wonderful father,” she promises, because she believes it. “If you show her who you are, if you let her see that with her own eyes,” she exhales, pressing her forehead into his neck. “You still don’t understand just how beautiful of a thing that is.” She can’t imagine anyone being able to see Beth, being able to know the quiet and the loud of him, and not be completely enraptured by it.
“When you found me,” she corrects herself, “when I ran into you, I couldn’t imagine moving forward. I couldn’t imagine how I was supposed to go on living.” She says this quietly, he eyes sliding down to make sure that her child is still asleep by her feet. “All I saw was darkness. All I saw was grief.”
She bites back the tears that come, still leaning against him.
“You jumpstarted my heart, Beth. No matter what happens, no matter how long this lasts,” she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to ignore the possibility of an end, “I will always have you to thank for that.”