STORM - (Intersex)

CHAPTER 9

TYLER

Turning around, I notice some tears trickling down her cheek, and without a second thought, I pull her into a tight embrace.

"Thank you so much," she whispers, her voice muffled against my shoulder. She sniffles, trying to regain composure. "I can't believe this."

She looks up at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and kisses me. There's a fiery passion in that kiss, a promise of more, of a future together. We pull apart before things can escalate, catching our breaths, and I lead her to the dining room to sit her down. I dash to the kitchen to fetch the meal I had prepared. It's her favourite pasta—the first dish I made after discovering her cravings. I place the plate before her and pour us each a glass of non-alcoholic wine. Her smile radiates joy and gratitude, filling the room with warmth.

As we eat, our conversation flows freely, from light-hearted jokes to deep confessions. I learn more about her—the nuances of her laughter, the stories behind her scars, her hopes for our child. She learns of my fears, my dreams, the silly things that make me laugh. We're unravelling each other, thread by thread, and I've never felt more connected to anyone.

After dinner, we step outside to the garden, taking turns on the swings, talking until the stars blanket the sky. It's effortless, this peace between us, as if we were always meant to find this quiet happiness.

"This has to be the best first date and surprise I've ever had," she murmurs as we settle onto the sofa inside. I smile and kiss her forehead, feeling her lean into the comfort of my presence.

"Our room's done, by the way. So, whenever you're ready, we can start moving some stuff in," I suggest, hoping to ease her into the new reality gently. "I didn't want to finish everything so we could do some of it together. And, oh—I nearly killed Lee about twenty times. Especially when Fran was over, the two of them together are a nightmare," I groan, but her laughter softens the complaint.

Soon, her yawns fill the silence, and her eyes flutter shut. I hold her closely, listening to the soft pattern of her breathing as she falls asleep. Carefully, I lift her up in my arms, bridal style, and carry her upstairs to our new bedroom. Laying her down gently on the bed, I tuck her in, watching her peaceful face in the moonlit room. This is home, I think, as I pull a chair close and sit by her side, watching over our future until my own eyes drift closed.

In just four months, I've met a woman who both terrifies and inspires me. We've jumped from strangers to partners faster than I've ever imagined—now, she's pregnant, and we're moving in together. My head spins just thinking about it.

After a quick shower and change of clothes, I head downstairs to tidy up. She's been housebound for two weeks following our scare at the hospital, with another two weeks of prescribed rest ahead. Ideally, she'll spend that time here, with me. But even in her supposed downtime, she's unstoppable—always on her laptop or a call, relentlessly pushing through her workload. There's simply no slowing her down.

As I finish up the dishes, I hear the soft patter of footsteps followed by the feel of arms wrapping around me from behind. "Babe, come to bed. I want cuddles," Clara murmurs. This tender side of Clara is a rare sight; Lee once caught a glimpse and nearly died from Clara's teasing backlash.

"Yeah, I'm coming now," I respond, drying off my hands.

"I'd say cum in my mouth, but I'm too tired, so let's just go," she mumbles with a yawn, tugging me upstairs. Her offhand remark makes me chuckle softly as I follow her to bed.

We crawl under the covers together, her smaller frame nestling against me. Soon, her breathing evens out into gentle snores. In the quiet, I whisper into the darkness, feeling a warmth spread through me, "I love you, sweetheart."