𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒|𝐿𝑒𝒶𝒽 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓂𝓈𝑜𝓃

𝟨𝟤| 𝐵𝒶𝒷𝓎 𝒜𝓉𝓁𝒶𝓈 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉𝓈 𝒜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑒 𝒜𝓁𝑒𝓍

Lucas PoV

It had been six weeks since Leah gave birth to Atlas, and our world had changed in ways I couldn't have imagined. It was 3 a.m., and I was half-asleep when Atlas's cries broke through the quiet of the night. I felt Leah stir beside me, already moving to get up, but I gently put a hand on her arm. "I've got him," I whispered, seeing the exhaustion in her eyes. She deserved more rest. I slipped out of bed and headed toward Atlas's room, my heart full. As tired as I was, there was something about holding him in the stillness of the night that made everything worth it.

I stepped into Atlas's room, the soft glow of the nightlight casting shadows across the walls. His tiny face was scrunched up in frustration, his cries filling the air. Gently, I picked him up, holding him close as I whispered soothing words. "It's okay, buddy. I'm here." I checked his nappy—sure enough, it needed changing. I worked quickly but carefully, not wanting to disturb him any more than he already was. Once he was clean and settled, I cradled him in my arms and sank into the chair by the window. Slowly, I rocked him, his little body finally relaxing against mine. His cries turned into soft, rhythmic breaths as sleep took over. The house was so quiet, just the sound of his breathing and the gentle creak of the chair. Before I knew it, my own exhaustion caught up with me, and I drifted off, Atlas safe and warm in my arms.

Leah's Pov 

I reached over, expecting to find Luke beside me, but my hand only met the cool, empty side of the bed. My eyes opened, squinting against the early light filtering through the curtains. I glanced at the clock—6 a.m. A flicker of worry sparked in my chest. Luke had gone to check on Atlas hours ago, and he hadn't come back.

Quietly, I slipped out of bed, the floor cool under my bare feet as I made my way down the hallway. The house was still, the air thick with that early morning calm. When I reached Atlas's room, I gently pushed the door open, and the sight that met me stopped me in my tracks.

There they were—Luke, asleep in the rocking chair, his head tilted back, looking so peaceful despite the dark circles beneath his eyes. Atlas was curled up on his chest, his tiny fingers clutching onto Luke's shirt, his little body rising and falling with each of Luke's breaths. The sight melted every bit of tiredness from my bones. The golden light of dawn filtered through the window, casting a soft, warm glow over them, making everything feel almost dreamlike.

I stood there, leaning against the doorframe, my heart swelling as I watched them. Luke looked so natural holding Atlas, like he was meant for this. The way Atlas fit perfectly against him, so small, so fragile, yet so safe in his arms—it was a moment I wanted to freeze in time. I could see the exhaustion etched on Luke's face, but it was softened by the peace of the moment, like all the sleepless nights and hard days faded away when he held our son.

My heart ached with love, this overwhelming feeling of gratitude and wonder washing over me. I couldn't help but smile as I watched them, father and son, wrapped in each other's warmth, a quiet bond already forming between them.

I couldn't help but watch them for a moment longer, but I knew Luke needed to wake up. Gently, I stepped forward and placed a soft hand on his shoulder. "Hey," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. "It's 6 a.m. You've been in here all night."

Luke stirred, his eyes blinking open as he groaned softly. "God, my neck," he muttered, rolling his head to one side, then the other, wincing from the stiffness. He must've slept funny in that chair, and I felt a pang of guilt for letting him do it.

"Atlas is still out," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, but just as the words left his mouth, I saw Atlas start to wriggle against his chest, his tiny face scrunching up as if he was on the edge of waking.

"I've got him," I said gently, reaching down to scoop Atlas into my arms before his fussing could turn into full cries. Luke shifted carefully, letting me take our son, his arms falling limp with exhaustion. Atlas settled against me, still half-asleep, as I gave Luke a soft smile. "Go shower and stretch out a bit. I'll handle this."