𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 - 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘱𝘯

𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

___________

Norman's eyes opened before the sun had fully risen, though he hardly needed an alarm these days. His body always stirred early, quietly, because mornings like these were far too precious to waste.

His gaze drifted down to the little boy nestled beside him. Just stirring awake, his son blinked drowsily, the faintest traces of sleep still weighing down his lashes. Norman propped his head on one hand, a small smile tugging at his lips as warmth spread through his chest.

The moment those blue eyes, his own eyes reflected back at him, the boy reached out instinctively, pressing his small palm to Norman's cheek. He leaned into the touch without hesitation, kissing the tiny hand, delighting in the way it made his son giggle.

"Good morning, my love." Norman whispered.

The boy wriggled upright, crawling onto Norman's chest. Norman's hands came up automatically, steadying him with gentle strength, before his son collapsed against him, cheek to cheek.

Yes. This was a routine by now.

Norman tilted his head toward the other side of the bed. There you lay, still deeply asleep. Your hair spilled across the pillow in soft waves, your breathing even, your face calm in a way that made his chest ache. His son tugged a fistful of his hair. Norman winced, but his smile never faded.

"Mama..." the boy mumbled, his little voice muffled against Norman's neck.

Norman tilted his head, meeting those expectant eyes. He whispered gently, "Shh.." pressing a kiss to his son's soft cheek. He wanted you to sleep just a little longer before another long day ahead.

After they had found Emma, after the long years of searching, life had slowed into something he never imagined possible. He had homes built atop the mountain for everyone, a place where they could finally belong. The others lived together in the other houses, loud and lively as ever. But Norman had quietly commissioned another, smaller house, one that belonged only to you, to him, and to the little boy now sprawled over his chest. Their family. His family.

Peace.

Every day had become its own adventure, fulfilling everyone's wishes. Sherry's wish for fluffy pancakes, Phil's for riding a train, Ray's for seeing the Sagrada Familia, Gilda and Anna's for new clothes they could laugh and twirl in. Norman had given freely, recklessly almost, but what was money to him? Nothing. Happiness was what mattered—their happiness.

His son tugged his hair harder, making Norman wince again. "That's enough," he murmured gently, prying the tiny hands away.

The boy's face puckered, a whimper slipping out before he buried his face into the crook of Norman's neck. Norman's heart surged at the sound. He soothed him with slow circles against his back, pressing his nose against his son's hair. The scent was familiar, something that clung from the very first day he'd held him. Norman secretly craved it.

He remembered that day vividly, the first time he had cradled him. Fragile, impossibly small, wrapped in blankets and crying. Norman had thought then that he understood love, but nothing had prepared him for that moment. For realizing he would give his entire being just to protect something so small. Those eyes, dark blue like his, but softened by traces of you, were still his undoing every time they met his.

At only two years old, his intelligence already shone. Every word, every curiosity, every stubborn refusal felt like a glimpse of the future. Norman swore he saw both of them in him perfectly.

"Mama..." the boy whispered again, restless.

Norman sighed softly, then lifted him, placing him on the mattress. He crawled clumsily toward you, settling against your side before placing both tiny hands on your cheeks and squishing them eagerly.

Your eyes fluttered open instantly. With a sigh, you freed your hands from the blankets and cupped his face in return. Norman watched, love swelling in his chest until it nearly hurt, as you gently rubbed the sleep from his eyes while he babbled nonsense at you.

"He's restless without you." Norman murmured, rubbing at his own face with one hand.

Your eyes flicked to him, still half-lidded with sleep. A soft hum escaped you in acknowledgment. Norman tilted his head, letting himself linger in your gaze before he finally shifted closer.

"Good morning." he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Morning," you breathed back. "Slept well?"

He let out a quiet hum. "...Yes, even with his foot digging into my ribs."

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "It's always you."

Norman smiled faintly at the sound of your laughter. He reached out, brushing your hair gently away from your face. "Not that I mind." he whispered, lowering to kiss your shoulder. "He's a blessing."

The three of you lay there together, morning light slowly filling the room. Norman looked between you and the boy pressed between you both. His chest ached, full and heavy. This was all he had ever wanted — family, warmth, peace.

He turned his hand over to yours, brushing his fingers against your palm until you slipped yours into his. He laced them together tightly, eyes never leaving you.

"Y/n..." His voice was quiet, raw with feeling. He paused, searching for the right words. "...I don't know how long this peace will last. None of us do. But I promise you no matter what happens, I'll protect this. I'll protect you. Always."

Your thumb stroked his hand gently, and your eyes softened as you nodded. "We'll be okay now.. we're in this together, aren't we?"

Norman's throat tightened. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours, your joined hands resting between you.

"Together." he breathed, closing his eyes. "Forever."

The boy babbled happily between you, and Norman laughed softly, pulling both you and him closer. For the first time in years, his heart felt light. The war was over, the searching was done.

This. This small family, this quiet moment was his forever.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃.