Levi's Last Hope

6.

        LEVI KNEW THE FEELING OF A GUN TO THE HEAD. He'd faced off with terrorists. He'd been shot – more than once. He had experienced that end-of-life tunnel, he'd witnessed soldiers fall, and more recently, he'd been present during the end of civilisation.

        And yet, he didn't remember any of those events make his palms sweat harder than they were now.

        Rosie re-entered the living room with their daughter on her hip. Lily leaned heavily against her side, face flushed with sleep and baby soft curls slightly damp and messy.

        Levi smiled softly at them, his knees bouncing where he sat on the edge of the sofa cushion. Rosie approached, stopping in front of him. She took a deep breath and then offered Lily to him.

        He wasn't too sure where to put his hands at first, so the pass-over was clumsy. Rosie had a look of amusement on her face as she took over and guided Lily to rest against his shoulder. Levi's hand covered Lily's head like she was made of glass, his seaweed eyes finding Rosie's.

        "Am I – is she ok like this?" he asked, body ridged.

        Lily snuggled into his warmth, leaving drool on the fabric of his black t-shirt as she found comfort in the curve of his neck. He'd taken his snood off before he'd sat down because he hadn't wanted something which protected him from zombie blood anywhere near her. Good thing too since that was where she ended up.

        "Yes, Levi," Rosie laughed quietly. Couldn't he feel how content Lily was in his hands? She looked ready to doze off again. "She's very happy right now."

        He relaxed. Glancing down, he's greeted with the sight of his daughter supported by his hands – one on the back of her head and the other tucked under her bum. She was light as a feather. Levi probably could have lifted her with his pinky alone but he didn't dare move either of his hands, not with the way they were shaking.

        Levi gently placed his nose against her hair and inhaled. She smelt like the softest of fabric conditioners, like an open field of flowers, sunshine, and fresh air. Now he knew why people fussed over the smell of babies. It was addictive, delicate in a way he feared he didn't deserve.

        "Can't believe we made her," he breathed, a little bit in shock and a whole lot in love.

        Heat climbed Rosie's cheeks at the reminder. She tried to ignore the fact that his sperm had been inside her at one point and yet they sat here mostly as strangers. "It's crazy," she says in agreement.

        Lily leaned back after a few minutes, gaze still heavy with sleep. She rubbed at her eye whilst looking at Levi.

        Levi swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Hello there, little love," he whispered, raw.

        Rosie didn't want to look away, the scene in front of her was so magical, so special she wanted to imprint it into her head forever. She wished she could record it so she could go back and watch the moment Lily met her father. She'd have loved to show it to Lily when she was old enough to understand.

         Levi's eyes were starting to look red and Rosie decided she should give them a moment. She stepped back.

        "She'll need a nappy change." Her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat. "I'll be right back."

-

        Levi spent the next few hours sitting on the floor with his daughter, showing the six-month-old each of her toys as if she hadn't played with them a hundred and one times before. He kept his leg up behind her, supporting her since she was still a bit wobbly sitting up alone.