The nursery was quiet.
Empty.
Bare.
Except for them.
Leah sat in Izana's lap, her back resting against his chest.
He leaned against the wall.
One arm wrapped around her waist.
The other resting lightly on her hand.
Her fingers intertwined with his.
Warm. Steady.
Comforting.
"…We're really doing this?" she asked softly.
"Yes," he said, voice low, calm.
Her heart skipped.
Skilled in control, he rarely showed this kind of… softness.
But here he was.
Just for her.
Her chest tightened.
She leaned slightly back into him.
"…It feels real," she murmured.
"Because it is," he replied.
No elaboration.
No hesitation.
Just certainty.
They sat in silence for a moment.
Just breathing.
Just being.
Then Leah shifted slightly, her fingers brushing his chest.
"Colors," she said softly.
He tilted his head.
"Colors?"
"The nursery," she explained. "What we should use."
He nodded.
"Light," he said simply.
She blinked.
"Light… how?"
"Soft," he answered. "Calm. Creams. Blues. Warm tones. Nothing too sharp. Nothing too bright."
Her lips curved faintly.
"…Exactly what I was thinking," she whispered.
He smirked slightly.
"Good," he said.
Not a boast. Not teasing. Just approval.
She smiled softly.
They talked quietly for a while.
Placement of the crib.
A small chair for reading.
A rug for little feet to touch the floor.
Storage for toys.
Even a small corner by the window.
"For when they can't sleep," she said.
Izana didn't say anything at first.
Just listened.
Then he said softly:
"You've thought about this."
"Just a little," she murmured, almost embarrassed.
"Enough," he replied.
His thumb brushed lightly over her fingers.
Gentle.
So deliberate.
Her chest warmed.
"…Have you thought about names?" she asked after a long pause.
He turned his head slightly.
Considering.
"…I have," he said finally.
Her heart caught.
"…Like what?"
"For a boy," he began slowly, "something strong. Something simple."
Her lips parted slightly.
"…Like?"
He smiled faintly.
"Zarek."
Her eyes widened.
"…Zarek," she repeated softly, letting the name roll off her tongue.
"Yes," he said. "…Strong enough for him."
A small shiver ran down her spine.
It felt… real.
Finally.
"And for a girl?" she asked, barely above a whisper.
He paused.
"…Elara," he said after a moment.
Her hand pressed instinctively to her stomach.
Elara.
Soft. Elegant. Fierce if she needed to be.
Her eyes glistened slightly.
"…Elara…" she whispered.
"Yes," he murmured. "…It suits her."
She smiled faintly, almost trembling.
Her heart was full.
Leah tilted her head slightly, looking up at him.
"What if they take after you?" she asked, playful despite the emotion.
He smirked.
"Difficult," he said, low. "Determined. Like me."
Her lips twitched.
"…Not reassuring," she said softly.
"And if they take after you?" he countered.
She grinned.
"Stubborn," she replied.
He chuckled quietly.
"…Then they're perfect," he said, voice soft.
She leaned into him again.
Nestled in his chest.
Warm. Safe.
The room was empty.
Silent.
Bare walls.
But they didn't notice.
It felt full.
Full of hope.
Full of love.
Full of a future that was theirs.
Her fingers traced the lines of his shirt.
Lightly.
As if memorizing him.
As if needing this closeness.
He placed his hand gently over hers.
Still. Warm. Certain.
A faint knock broke the quiet.
Then Dante's voice, teasing, sharp:
"…Really? You two on the floor in the nursery already?"
Leah jumped slightly.
Izana's gaze shifted toward the door.
"…Dante," he said, voice calm but low.
Dante stepped in, smirk in place, hands in pockets.
"Just checking. Make sure you're not doing… anything criminal."
Leah flushed, hiding against Izana's chest.
"I… we're just… planning," she stammered.
Planning.
Izana's eyebrow lifted slightly.
"Yes," he said quietly. "…Planning."
Dante's smirk widened.
"Uh-huh," he said, mock-serious. "…Right. Planning. Sure."
Leah pressed a little closer to Izana.
He placed a hand on her waist, steady, protective.
Dante shook his head, grinning.
"I'll leave you two to your… planning," he said, backing toward the door.
Izana's rare smirk appeared.
"…Don't interrupt again," he said softly.
Dante raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Yes, boss," he said, voice teasing. "…Planning. Got it."
And then he left.
The click of the door echoed.
Silence returned.
Leah exhaled slowly.
Her fingers tightened around his shirt.
"…He's impossible," she murmured.
Izana chuckled softly.
"Only for us," he said.
Her lips curved into a smile.
"Do you really think it will happen?" she whispered.
"Yes," he said immediately.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just certainty.
Her eyes softened.
A single tear slipped.
He noticed.
Wiped it away with his thumb.
Slow. Gentle.
"…I love you," she whispered, voice soft, raw.
He pressed his lips to her temple.
"…I love you too," he said quietly.
The words were simple.
Yet they carried everything.
Everything they had been through.
Everything they had lost.
Everything they still hoped to gain.
They stayed in silence again.
Just breathing.
Just feeling.
The quiet of the empty room wrapping around them.
Leah tilted her head, looking up at him.
"…Zarek and Elara," she asked softly.
He smiled faintly.
"Both sound strong," he murmured.
"Strong enough for them," she said.
He nodded.
"And strong enough for us," he added quietly.
Her chest ached with warmth.
She leaned into him again.
Nestled fully against his chest.
Resting.
Safe.
"You'll let me help with everything, right?" she asked quietly.
"Everything," he promised.
Her fingers tightened around his shirt.
"…You really mean that?"
"Yes," he said simply. "…I mean it."
Her lips curved into a small, soft smile.
A tear fell.
He brushed it away again.
"…Someday," she whispered.
He rested his head lightly against hers.
"…Someday," he echoed.
Hours could have passed.
Minutes.
They didn't care.
The world outside didn't matter.
Just this room.
Just each other.
Just a future they were slowly imagining.
Leah lifted her head slightly.
"Do you want a crib near the window or near the wall?" she asked softly.
He considered.
"Near the window," he said finally. "…So we can watch them grow with the sunlight."
Her chest warmed.
She pressed her cheek to his again.
"Do you think they'll have your eyes or mine?" she asked softly.
He chuckled quietly.
"…Both," he said, voice low. "…And something of neither of us too."
She smiled.
A small laugh escaped her.
"I guess that's fair," she said.
Time slowed.
They stayed like that.
Sitting on the floor.
Planning.
Dreaming.
Imagining.
Love wrapped around them.
Hands pressed together.
Fingers entwined.
A future held gently between them.
Leah rested her head against his chest one final time.
"…I really believe it now," she whispered.
"Yes," he murmured softly. "…So do I."
The room was empty.
But it was full.
Full of hope.
Full of life yet to come.
Full of love that would never leave.
And for the first time in a long time, Leah felt… truly, completely safe.