Raising Isla | ENGLOT AU

Chapter 15: Housewarming

As Calypso padded across the wooden floorboards through the darkness of their bedroom a while later, she found Emery not timid in seeking out the comfort of her arms as she joined her under the bedding.

She discovered a trace of solace as she found a nest within the arms held around her body, moving her hand innocuously to rest over her chest, feeling the heartbeat there steady and slow against her palm. Reassuring.

She heard her sniff, just once, and quiet enough that she couldn't distinguish if the sound had been innocent or an indicator she'd been crying. Cal wasn't able to see her eyes. The dark wasn't helping, and she'd hidden herself well enough, fitting like a puzzle piece against her, so there wasn't enough room between them to investigate if they'd been tainted pink.

"Is this something I need to be concerned about?" Calypso asked, her voice quiet against the stillness of the room.

It was clear she'd failed to fall asleep, but any explanation she might have been preparing seemed caught on her tongue. It was a compromise at least, an improvement, that if she weren't ready to find comfort in words, she was still willing to seek this from her.

"No," Emery sighed finally, feeling safe in the moment as she soothed the pads of her fingers down her back, yet still not enough to admit to the person laying beside her the truth she'd been blindsiding for years. Settling on an answer that didn't feel like a lie. "It's just hiccups and road bumps."

Calypso didn't think that was fair to the reaction she'd had, but she wasn't going to press.

"I'm just tired, I think," She explained, but it sounded like a diversion. "I didn't expect living with a three-year-old to be so exhausting."

Cal laughed slightly, taking security in the warm tone of the way she'd said it, not a frustration, just a fact. "We're okay though, right?"

"Yeah," She promised, no hesitation to it. And then again, calmer, softer, sounding like a promise. "Yeah."

Minutes passed as Cal's ears tracked the sound of her breathing, noticing immediately when it deepened, slowed, her hand moving to delicately brush the waves of dark hair off her face, now entirely peaceful in sleep - innocent even. And she hoped that whatever trouble this was, it wouldn't feel like such a monster in the morning.

...

Emery was gone when she woke. The reminder of the days plans tickling at her waking mind before she discovered the mattress beside her was empty, but not cold.

Calypso discovered them both in the kitchen, Isla perched on a stool beside the island counter, an array of what Calypso assumed was breakfast prep strewn over the counter between them. Fruit mostly. And a pineapple that Emery was dismantling with a knife, the movements fervent but not bitter. It was a tactic Mae had tried once, whacking watermelon's with a metal baseball bat was surprisingly therapeutic. But Emery didn't seem to need that now.

"Hi," She smiled a good morning as her eyes flickered up to find her at the doorway, her expression bright, Isla mirroring the greeting a few moments later with a voice like candy floss to Calypso's sleep hindered mind.

"Good morning..." She stalled, wishing the cheeriness on Emery's face hadn't been so unexpected, but finding it that way none the less. Calypso tried not to stare, watching and wondering if she'd permitted denial to file whatever ghost she'd seen yesterday evening to the least sun touched parts of her mind. Her reaction yesterday didn't grant simply forgetting.

"Breakfast?" She asked instead, indicating to the fruit over the counter. She couldn't tell if Emery was simply obscuring the topic while in the presence of the three-year-old, or if this was even something worth guarding her from, but she trusted Emery to make that judgment. Isla had enough turbulence in her own head, she didn't need to hear theirs too.