His hand felt so numb it may well have dropped off by the time Elsie released it, but finally the pressure in the room seemed to break – Tybalt’s chest felt like it was seizing up from all the strain, and he hadn’t even done anything useful here.
He, Sebastian said, and Tybalt craned his neck to get a glimpse of the – admittedly grimy, at the moment – infant that was their son. They had a son. Tyb brought a hand up to his face without even registering it, clutching at his jaw to try and digest it – to try not to beam so hard he broke. “Elsie,” he said, exhaling in awe and amazement and gratitude that she’d done so well, all the way through, “– Sebastian –” he squeezed Beauregard’s shoulder in a similar gratitude, and maybe to find a little steadiness, “– meet Bentley.” Their baby, Bentley.
“Just look at him,” Tybalt was cooing, entirely senseless of everything else, as, distantly, the doorbell rang. His eyes nearly rolled out of his head. Huffing and shaking his head despairingly, Tyb cast a thoughtless spell down the stairs to open the door, refusing to leave the room now, even to let the midwife in. “‘Course she shows up now, doesn’t she?” he grumbled to them both – or so he meant, but there was a grin blooming too hard beneath it to pretend he wasn’t as ecstatic as he’d ever been. They’d done alright without her – no one had died.
Another thought struck him, as his gaze drifted between them all. “He’ll need a godfather, you know,” Tyb pointed out, meaningfully.
He, Sebastian said, and Tybalt craned his neck to get a glimpse of the – admittedly grimy, at the moment – infant that was their son. They had a son. Tyb brought a hand up to his face without even registering it, clutching at his jaw to try and digest it – to try not to beam so hard he broke. “Elsie,” he said, exhaling in awe and amazement and gratitude that she’d done so well, all the way through, “– Sebastian –” he squeezed Beauregard’s shoulder in a similar gratitude, and maybe to find a little steadiness, “– meet Bentley.” Their baby, Bentley.
“Just look at him,” Tybalt was cooing, entirely senseless of everything else, as, distantly, the doorbell rang. His eyes nearly rolled out of his head. Huffing and shaking his head despairingly, Tyb cast a thoughtless spell down the stairs to open the door, refusing to leave the room now, even to let the midwife in. “‘Course she shows up now, doesn’t she?” he grumbled to them both – or so he meant, but there was a grin blooming too hard beneath it to pretend he wasn’t as ecstatic as he’d ever been. They’d done alright without her – no one had died.
Another thought struck him, as his gaze drifted between them all. “He’ll need a godfather, you know,” Tyb pointed out, meaningfully.
