summary: he wonders where he found his luck. — natan, au!futurefic
notes: i love natan so much and the recent chapters have destroyed me so i decided to write some wholesome fluff. i hope it satisfies ya'll. dedicated to shuu-xx (ur my favourite friendo)
it is officially half past three in the morning when natalie finally succumbs to sleep. stan rubs an eye, yawning. his wife's cheeks are flushed and her hand is enclosed in his large, calloused palm. he sighs heavily. natalie will forever be a pain, he thinks. but you signed up for it! she counters in his head. he smirks, throwing a cursory glance to their intertwined fingers and matching rings. well, coordinating, at least. hers had girl inscribed on the inside of it (something he had called her since they had met, for no particularly obvious reason) and his read luce (something she had called him since they had first met, for no particularly obvious reason). same idea.
"luce." a small voice shakes him out of his aimless thoughts. he groans inwardly. she's awake again? "yes." he says, quietly. "i know you're tired, but would you mind getting me a glass of water and one of those leftover fish sticks on the stove?" he stood. "the things i do for you, natalie mcallister." she smiled, green eyes sparking a little in spite of her small fever. "it's wormwood, you know." he grins before making his way to the kitchen
once there, he frowns. oh, crap. he'd thrown the leftover fish sticks away - they had induced natalie's last vomiting session. he curses himself (and natalie) before filling a glass of water and plodding miserably back to his room. this is likely to not go over well with his wife.
fortunately, she's drifted back to sleep. he stands there for a second and bursts into laughter. (granted - it's quiet laughter, but laughter nonetheless.) he watches her shift a little, her arm draped over her growing belly. his laughter dies slowly, and a foreign warmth begins to bloom in his chest. not foreign as in he had never felt warmth there before; but foreign as in it was a different kind every time. but it was all a good warmth, always a soft warmth, a warmth that says home is where the heart is.
luce has his past and he has his present, and while his future isn't certain, he's going to try his absolute best that natalie is there for every moment. no matter what.
this woman is the love of my life, he says to himself. and he knows it.
bonus:
"luce?"
"yeah? i already brewed coffee for you."
"yeah, but - where are the fish sticks?"
additional note: it has definitely been a while since i last posted here! sorry bout that! i hope everyone's doing okay. i've simplified my formatting for stories recently, so don't be surprised if my style looks a little different! lots of love -
