𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

the dreaded question

Nico had faced sea monsters.

He had stared down sirens in Bea's form.

He had once jumped onto a moving WCKD train with nothing but a sword and a bag of stolen intel.

None of that prepared him for this moment.

"...Nico?"

He looked up from cleaning the mud off his boots, only to find Bea standing by the mirror. 

She was dressed in a loose, soft cotton dress Frypan had tailored for her growing belly (SIX months) — her beautiful brown curls half up, her hands resting just under the bump.

His heart melted.

She was glowing.

But then—

She turned to him.

Eyes wide. Amber. Uncertain.

And she asked:

"Do I look fat?"

.

.

.

Nico blinked.

His soul left his body.

A long-forgotten pirate instinct screamed: TRAP. DON'T MOVE.

"Uh— what?" he said dumbly.

Bea fidgeted, fingers brushing the fabric over her round belly. "I mean... I know I'm supposed to be big. I am big. But like... do I look fat? Not cute pregnant, but like, waddling puffball fat?"

Nico stood.

Cleared his throat. Stepped toward her like she was a live grenade.

"You... look like a queen," he said carefully.

Bea squinted. "That's not a no."

"You look like the most radiant person I've ever seen. I mean it."

Bea's bottom lip trembled.

Oh no.

"Radiant like... a lamp?"

Nico panicked. "No! No— not like a lamp. More like— like a sun goddess. A majestic— uh— storm cloud of maternal beauty?"

"...A cloud, Nico?"

He grabbed her hands. "I mean it in the best way! The most beautiful cloud."

She narrowed her eyes.

He kissed her knuckles. "Okay— okay. You want the truth?"

Bea nodded, expression unreadable.

"You're round," he said softly. "You're round, because you're carrying our child. And that's beautiful. You are beautiful. Not fat. Not puffy. Not weird. Just... you. And I love every curve of you. Especially right now."

Bea stared.

Then... she exhaled, leaning into his chest, face buried in his shirt.

"...You scared me for a second."

Nico kissed her curls. "You scared me."

Bea looked up, pouting slightly. "You better not call me a cloud again."

"I won't. Unless it's like... a sexy, dangerous cloud."

She smacked his arm, laughing.

Outside the room, Matt's voice echoed down the hall: "Bro, you alive in there?"

Vicky yelled back, "He's either dead or got lucky. No in-between."

Nico whispered into Bea's hair: "I'm gonna start keeping score of your mood swings."

Bea whispered back: "Say that again and I'll pour hot tea on your boots."

"...Fair."