Birdie (Levi x OC)

epilogue

I was walking, the treed path reminding me of days long ago. My skirt swished around my legs as I scrambled over logs and rocks with an ease that never felt quite right. Or maybe it was just that the memory of being broken had become so ingrained that I expected to trip at every turn. But my legs were strong, and the air was sweet.

The sun was hot today as I made my way to the clearing, the sight of the small pond filling my view.

I had snuck away that afternoon. I had done the laundry and even gone and gotten a few things for dinner at the market before I left, leaving a note on the wood kitchen table that I had gone for a walk outside of our little home, away from the busy city streets. We had found peace in this quiet corner of the world, far from the memories of the walls.

I stretched my arms high above my head, groaning as I heard a muscle pop. A soft cooing sound caught my attention, and I turned my head to the side.

"Are you enjoying the sunshine, little one?" I whispered, admiring the small bundle of innocence that I had strapped to my back. She was nestled carefully beneath a bundle of cloth, the tiniest of bonnets strapped atop her head to protect her pale skin from the heat of the sun. Her eyes were open and she was staring at me; her golden gaze was wide and curious.

"Oh, my sweet," I murmured, turning back to the path to find a place of shade where I could sit down and finally snuggle my baby.

"Mother!" A small voice called from behind me.

I turned around just in time for a little boy to ram straight into my legs. They almost buckled, the phantom memory of my past making me flinch, but I held firm.

"Kiran!" I exclaimed, reaching out to steady him.

"Brat, be careful with her."

The voice was rough, familiar, and laced with that signature irritability that still made my heart skip. Levi was a few paces back, his face set in a familiar scowl. He moved with a heavy gait, the wooden cane clicking against the stones of the path with every other step.

He lunged forward with surprising speed, grabbing the little boy by the collar and lifting him slightly to pull him back. In the process, he dropped the cane he'd been gripping to steady me, his good hand catching my waist instead.

He stood there, leaning heavily on his good leg, his eyes darting from Kiran to the baby on my back, and finally to me. The scars on his face softened, just for a second.

"He's going to knock you over one of these days," Levi grumbled, though he didn't let go of my waist. He reached down to retrieve his cane, his movements stiff but he looked pointedly at our 3-year old son. "And you. I told you to wait for me. You move too fast for your own good."

I laughed, the sound bright and clear in the open air. "I'm fine, Levi," I said to him, smiling as I caught Kiran's hand before he could dart off toward the water.

He didn't look convinced. He never did. He furrowed his brows, leaning his cane against his hip for a moment so he could place the back of his free hand to my cheek. The skin of his hand was rough, but his touch was incredibly light.

"You're flushed. Why aren't you wearing a hat?"

His eyes were scanning every part of my face with that same clinical intensity he'd used back when we were soldiers, but now it was fueled by a different kind of devotion. He studied the way my hair fell, messy from the wind, and the spray of freckles across my nose that always grew prominent in the heat. To him, every new mark was something to be monitored, a testament to the life he had fought so hard to keep.

My lips turned to a pout, and I tilted my head toward the bundle on my back. "Dottie's wearing a hat."

Levi glanced at the small, frilly bonnet protecting his daughter, then back at me, his expression unimpressed. "Dottie is four months old and has her mother to do it for her. You're thirty-one and apparently still haven't learned that the sun doesn't give a damn about your stubbornness."