At some point during the long grueling hours Dahlia had entirely lost track of the time. She couldn't have told you if it was morning or afternoon or night - only that there was light filtering into their room through the lace curtains. It didn't matter though, none of it matter the moment mama set the baby, bundled in her arms. Her daughter didn't cry, only stared up at her with baby blue eyes filled with curiosity. Dahlia's joy bubbled over into a laugh and her hugged her child closer to her breast. She forgot the hours that had come before, lost in her rapture of the child in her arms.

Quin's voice floated to her, like a comforting cup of honeyed tea, and she looked up to smile at him. She had no idea what he'd said, awash only in the love the words contained. "Look at our daughter Quin." She whispered, her gaze going back down to her daughter's chubby face. The little girl's arm wiggled free of the blanket and Dahlia offered a finger to her, the tiny chubby fist closed around her finger and a feeling so deep Dahlia couldn't fully name it flooded through Dahlia's veins.