week 1: early years (july 5th - july 11th)
(rated G+, mild language--barely)
At some point in these past six or so months, being a night person had made Rayla—Rayla—somehow their de facto morning person too.
For the week around the full moon, anyway.
In a fortnight, Callum would be the one up out of bed at three in the morning—that was certain—and likely most of the other mornings of the month too.
Because of course he would—he’d do anything for her.
Sarai doesn’t seem to mind either way, though, whether it’s her or Callum who’s up with her when she can’t make it through the night…and what better way to have spent the last few sleepless, moonbright hours before dawn?
It is dawn now, though…and regrettably, she and little one can’t just flip through picture books and listen to Daddy snore into his pillow from across the room any longer.
“Do you want to go wake up your daddy? Hmm?” Rayla scoops her up while she coos, settling Sarai on her hip, a low whisper becoming sing-song at his bedside. “What do you think? Think he’s drooling? I bet he is—”
Callum snores himself awake, and yep—there’s a nice little trail of drying spit on his cheek to go with the sleepy crusties.
“Oh, hey, baby girl—” he breathes, voice creaking along with the bed as he scoots so that she can set Sarai on his stomach. “Need me to take her?”
“No, just time to come wake up sleepyhead,” she plops down at his waist, already licking a finger to smudge crusts of all kinds away. “Don’t panic but we have a meeting soon.”
The only reason he doesn’t bolt upright is the balancing the baby chewing on her fingers currently on his belly…but he does thrash backwards awfully dramatically for someone who’s not supposed to be panicking.
“I said don’t panic, dummy.” Rayla presses a hand over his heart as he—more carefully—sits up…and he obeys, scooting backwards against the headboard instead of getting to his feet. “We still have a while yet.”
“C’mere then?” he insists…and what, is she going to argue? While a nice big Callum-hand steadies Sarai, he lifts his other arm and—mmm. This might be the only bad part about early morning solo wake-ups: limited lazy sleepy snuggling. Callum breathes in deep against her scalp, letting a kiss linger right between her horns. “Mmm, love you so much.”
His skin’s still overheated from sleep, his shoulder firm and smooth under her cheek. “So sappy when you’re sleepy.”
Callum snickers and gathers Sarai up tighter, daring to angle her baby the tiniest bit away from her—
“Fine, we’ll keep our snuggles all to ourselves, thank you very much.”
—but Sarai is not having it, tiny baby fists opening and closing in Rayla’s direction. Callum helps her along, of course—
“Yeah, that’s right, Moonbeam! Get your mom!”
—until those tiny baby fists have grabbed right into her pajamas.
What’s an elven warrior to do? She goes down honorably…bested by a six-month old sprawled on her chest.
“Oof, I’ve been got.” She pulls Sarai the rest of the way up, earning a sweet, sweet baby giggle. “When'd you get so strong, hmm?”
…and as if this could get any better, Callum envelopes the both of them.
He gives out a few more kisses—a couple for their little one, and one for her cheek—and then gently slides Sarai back against his chest instead.
“Go get dressed, okay? I got her.” He and Sarai follow when she gets up, but they head through the nursery’s archway, Callum’s voice carrying until she’s gone the other way to the washroom. “Mmm, council meeting. I think your little red dress? Wanna match with Uncle Ez? I’ll bet—”
Rayla opens the washroom window and stretches out the stiffness of early morning quiet, sighing out low and long—
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