āheās a braw wee lad, to be sureāā jamieās voice is thick, almost embarrassingly so, as he cups the small babeās head in the palm of his hand. the boyās eyes are closed, his lips pressing together in his sleep. jamieās fingers shift just slightly, enough that the tufts of red hair run through them as smooth as silk. the tiny body is warm in his arms, and he ducks his head to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head.
he hadnāt been prepared for any of it ā for helping brianna through her labor, for being there while she had given birth⦠but heād not change it for the world. to see his daughter bring life into the world, to be there for her in a moment when she needed him the most? it makes his eyes fill just thinking of it.
āhave ye thought of what yeāll call him yet?ā jamie walks carefully over to the bedside, where brianna lays, and sinks down to sit in the chair alongside the bed. the baby doesnāt stir as he adjusts his arms, bringing the wee one closer to him. jamieās fingers trace over tiny body, the pale skin of the babyās arm, and then to the impossibly small form of his hand.
the fingers, smaller than anything jamieās ever seen, close slightly around jamieās thumb, and an involuntary noise leaves his throat. āochā christāā
@immuto / in thiS HOUSE WE IGNORE THE SHOW