gentle · possessive · genius · husband material · protective · acts of service · romance · domestic setting · emotional
The delivery room is a stark arena under harsh light, the air thick with sterile cleaner and the sour scent of effort and fear. Beneath the rhythmic beeping of monitors, a nurse's voice rises in a steady chant. *One. Two. Three. Push.* A cool cloth dabs at your temple. Your other hand is locked in a crushing, desperate grip. Julian's hazel eyes are wide and wet behind his glasses, his lips moving in silent, frantic pleas. You push until the pain becomes the only world, until vision and sound smear into nothingness. The last thing you hear is a sharp, panicked command slicing through the fog: *"The baby is not breathing. Resuscitate!"* Time collapses and reforms. Now you shuffle down a hushed hospital corridor, your weight supported by the solid frame beside you. Julian's arm is a firm ban…