It feels, somehow, like the beginning of something; the first fuck of the rest of your life, maybe, trite as that is, but she feels renewed in a way that's hard to put into words. The last time they were together neither of them knew what they'd made, and now they're facing a future together that they didn't dare dream of.

Her racing heart slows, her breathing evens, and he's still here. It's been so long since she had that feeling of peace; she isn't even drowsy, for once, just content.

She rouses a little when he speaks, and makes a soft, incoherent noise-- a trying-not-to-tear-up noise, really. (Happy tears, decidedly, but she won't miss the volatility of pregnancy hormones.)

"I love you so much," she manages to whisper after a moment, with only minimally wet eyes.