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I don't feel like myself anymore.

[places her hand over her stomach] It's good, I think.

*bites his lip* Can I... *scoots his chair closer* Feel?

Well... nothing interesting's happening yet, but... okay.

*smiles* Still. *tentatively reaches out, gently setting his hand on her stomach, his heart beating faster* There's really... A baby, isn't there?

Really, really.

*takes in a deep breath, chewing on his lip, feeling a lot of things but mostly hopeful* We'll be good parents, Waverly. I'm going to be a good father. I promise.

[gently takes his hand, quiet for a moment]

Let's eat?

*smiles, squeezing her hand* Yeah. *gets the takeaway boxes out of the bag he brought, starting to dish her some*

You've been warm enough, right? You don't need another blanket, or anything?

Don't you need anything, Milo? You're always asking about me.

*shrugs, though truth be told he's been getting sore from sleeping on the couch night after night and he knows all too well how cold the apartment is*

I'm fine. Nothing I won't survive, Waverly.

[was definitely thinking of the sleeping situation]

You're not comfortable.

It's... Not all that bad. Just a little stiff in the shoulders, that's all.

I could make room.

*looks up at her, surprised* You... You're offering? *scared to let himself want this*

It's fine, Milo. Trust me.

*exhales, giving her a small smile* Alright. *nods, going back to his food* ... Tonight?

Sure, that would be just fine.

*smiles to himself, feeling optimistic, taking a deep breath* ... Thank you, Waverly.

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