Evan Peters Shorts

The Visit

Evan sat in the corner of the softly lit hospital room, his hands folded in his lap, his eyes glued to the tiny bundle cradled in your arms. The room hummed with the quiet afterbirth lull, a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration still buzzing through his veins. You are still glowing with the tender exhaustion of labor, smiled down at your newborn daughter, your eyes glassy with tears of joy.

"She's perfect," Evan whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He leaned forward, brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your temple.

"She is," you agreed softly, tracing the curve of your daughter's tiny, rosebud lips. The baby let out a small whimper, her little fingers curling around your thumb. It felt surreal to Evan, as if time had momentarily suspended itself in this one sacred moment. He'd imagined this scene a hundred times, but nothing had prepared him for the reality.

A knock at the door interrupted the peaceful silence. Evan's heart leapt. His family had arrived.

"Come in," he called, his voice still a bit hoarse. The door creaked open, and his mother stepped in first, a bouquet of flowers in hand, her face beaming with uncontainable joy. Behind her, his father and sister followed, their expressions a mix of awe and excitement.

"Oh my goodness, Evan," his mother breathed, her eyes filling with tears as she approached the bed. "She's beautiful."

Evan stood and met her halfway, hugging her tightly. "Thanks, Mom."

His father clapped him on the back, a proud smile on his face, while his sister, wide-eyed and grinning, hurried to the bedside.

"Can I hold her?" she asked eagerly, glancing between Evan and his wife for permission.

You chuckled softly, nodding. "Of course, just be careful."

Evan gently lifted his daughter from his your arms and passed her to his sister, who carefully cradled the baby as if she were holding the most precious treasure. "Hi, sweet girl," she cooed, her voice barely above a whisper.

His mother hovered close, tears streaming freely down her face now. "Evan, you're a father," she said softly, marveling at the tiny new addition to their family. "I can't believe it."

Evan chuckled, feeling the weight of that statement settle in his chest. "Neither can I."

His father, standing back with his arms crossed and a proud smile on his face, nodded. "You're going to be a great dad, Evan."

The compliment hit him square in the heart. Evan had grown up idolizing his father, wanting to be the same kind of steady, reliable presence. Hearing his dad say that felt like a passing of the torch. "Thanks, Dad."

As they all crowded around the baby, marveling at her tiny fingers and soft little noises, the room filled with warmth and laughter. You leaned back against the pillows, your eyes fluttering shut as you rested for a moment, and Evan stood by the bedside, watching his family surround his daughter with love.

It was perfect, he thought. Better than anything he could have ever imagined. He felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude, not just for the tiny life in his arms, but for the family that had come together around her. His family. Their family.

As the evening stretched on, they took turns holding the baby, sharing stories, and making quiet promises about the future. Evan glanced down at his daughter, nestled in his mother's arms now, and felt his heart swell again. He could already imagine the years ahead, the holidays, the birthdays, the simple moments spent together.

"I love you," he whispered to you, who stirred beside him and smiled sleepily.

"I love you too," you murmured, reaching for his hand. "This is just the beginning."

Evan squeezed her hand, leaning in to kiss your forehead. It was the beginning, and he couldn't wait to live every moment of it with the people he loved most