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Drabble Babble
Chapter #2: In My Hands
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He can't get over how tiny she is.
It's terrifying, really, how his hands dwarf her little form. With the yellow baby blanket swaddling her she looks even smaller - more fragile. He can see the tiniest blue veins peeking through her fragile skin. Skin that is now pleasantly pink instead of the terrifying blotchy red it was hours before (it had taken two nurses to assure him that it was perfectly normal and that their baby was perfect). She is a healthy seven pounds six ounces, but when he holds her she feels lighter.
She feels too light, too fragile, too precious to trust in his battle worn hands. The first time he held her, moments after her birth when her limbs were wailing and her tiny lungs were busy voicing her displeasure, he was terrified that he'd hold her too tight or (worse) he wouldn't hold her tight enough and she'd tumble from his grasp. Lucy, with sweat still soaking her bangs and tears still trailing down her cheeks, had smiled up at him reassuringly as the nurses directed him in how to support their child's head. It was a smile full of so much love and affection that he felt tears cling stubbornly to the corners of his eyes because holy shit, he was a father.
With this realization comes both excitement and a bone chilling fear. He doesn't know how to raise a child, doesn't know how to be the father that his daughter needs. All he knows is that he already loves her more than anything. He wants to make all the right decisions, wants to be the role model she deserves. He wishes he had Igneel to guide him, to walk him through how to be a parent, but he doesn't. He can only do his best.
His thumb gently brushes against his daughter's delicate cheek. "I'll make you proud," he promises under his breath. He's not sure if he's talking to his child or the memory of his father – maybe both – but the moment the words pass his lips he knows that he will do everything he can to make it true.
AN: Have a super short drabble!