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Sage sort of wrinkled his nose in response to joras protest about Lyra. He couldn't really argue with that, though, so he sighed in defeat. "I suppose she is my daughter. Attempting to bend the laws of the world comes with it," he noted with a fond twitch of his lips moving upwards slightly. He finished putting away the breakfast dishes and such then, sort of just leaning against the counter to look over at jora with his normal crooked grin plastered on his face. "Me? Dispenser of discipline?" He shook his head, still very amused. "No, I'm pretty sure that's your role,* he mused lightly, sort of recalling all her more bossy tendencies. He loved those tendencies, of course, and would do anything for her. Follow her anywhere, willing or unwilling. He would do anything for her. She had that power over him. But she never abused it. Never used it to manipulate him into doing anything he didn't want to do. And that's why he loved her so much. Well...partly anyway. There was just so many reasons. His smile turned softer when she pressed her lips to his jaw though, and he sort of just rigged her in gently. "I know," he noted softly. "And you haven't stopped. ...even when I'd given up," he added. She never would stop either, he knew that. He hummed softly in agreement as she continued to mention their home and children, both real and not yet conceived. "Well give them everything," he agreed softly. He'd give them the world if they asked ...nothing would ever change that. |
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Jora let out a quiet huff of laughter at his defeated sigh, tilting her head at him with a mock-smug look. “Exactly. She’s yours—chaos is in her blood,” she teased, though the warmth in her tone gave her away. Truth be told, she loved that about both of them. The trouble, the curiosity, the way they never stopped testing the edges of what was possible—it kept their lives from ever going dull. When Sage leaned against the counter with that crooked grin of his, she raised a brow. “Oh, please. If I’m the dispenser of discipline, it’s only because someone has to keep you two from setting the house on fire.” Her smirk softened as her gaze flicked toward Lyra, who was humming to herself, utterly absorbed in her drawing. “And I’m pretty sure she’s already plotting to overthrow both of us.” She didn’t miss the shift in his tone when he pulled her closer, the way his voice dipped quieter. Her chest tightened, and she wrapped her arms fully around him, holding on like she could anchor them both there in that moment. “And I never will,” she murmured back. “You’re stuck with me, even when you’re ready to give up. Especially then.” Resting her cheek against him, she let the steady rhythm of his breathing wash over her. His promise—we’ll give them everything—settled deep within her, and she believed it, because she knew he meant it with every part of himself. “We already are,” she said quietly. “And one day, they’ll know just how lucky they were to be born to us.” She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her lips curving in a small, certain smile. “And I’ll remind you, every single time, that you were worth it all.” |
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Sage chuckled softly when she mentioned the chaos came with his blood. "Oh, I'm sure she is," he hummed. "Well ...maybe she'll want to overthrow you, but if I keep spoiling her she'll be on my side," he added, clearly teasing. Lyra loved them both, he knew that. They all did. Though he simply grinned at jora when she mentioned being the dispenser of discipline, chuckling softly. "Oh, not the house. One of the old sheds, maybe," he noted with a sort of shrug. "I put too much work into the house to burn it." He was laughing though, clearly having a good time. He did want to go work on some things ....weed the garden, fix up some parts of the dock, work on their boats, that sort of thing. But he had all the time in the world to do that. So they could do this now. He hummed as jora continued to speak though, smiling softly at her. "Good," he hummed. "Because I'm not going anywhere," he noted firmly. Even when he felt like giving up, she was still there. She gave him the strength he couldn't find in himself. He humemd in agreement when she said they were already giving them everything, nodding along softly. They had a good life here. "I'm sure Lyra already knows," he noted. "And when the next one comes, they'll know soon too." He squeezed her gently as she mentioned him being worth it, pecking her head softly. "One day I'll be able to believe you," he hummed softly. He wanted to. He just....wasn't there yet. |
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Jora smirked faintly at his teasing about Lyra, though the corner of her mouth softened. She knew their daughter loved them both too much to truly turn against either of them, but she let him have his joke. “She might try,” she said dryly in her mind, “but she wouldn’t win.” There was no edge of competition in the thought, just quiet amusement. The mention of burning the shed instead of the house earned a short laugh from her. She knew exactly how much work he’d poured into the place they lived—every nail, every board, every stubborn bit of paint. “Fair,” she thought silently, her eyes warm. She couldn’t blame him for protecting what they’d built. As he spoke, her gaze lingered on him. She caught the firmness in his tone when he promised he wasn’t going anywhere, and though part of her had always known it, hearing it again rooted her deeper. He had his moments of doubt, but even in those, he stayed. That was worth more than words. She let herself relax into his presence, into the steady hum of his agreement when she’d said they were already giving their children everything. It was true—they had built something safe here, something whole. The thought of another child, of Lyra guiding them just as they guided her, filled Jora with a quiet, fierce pride. When he said one day he might believe her about being worth it, she didn’t push him. She only gave a small, knowing smile, leaning her head slightly toward the place where he’d kissed her. He might not see it yet, but she did. And she’d keep showing him until he couldn’t deny it anymore. |
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Heavy Downpours, Flood Warning
