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The real power of a man is the size of the smile of the woman sitting next to him


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Quinn Abernathy

"It's okay, it's okay," she mutters through gritted teeth, unsure if she is convincing herself or him.

Two weeks.

“Mi alma, listen to me, please...”

"Just not them... I-I promise I won't move."

"I need you to trust me, and I promise, I will handle this. Do you trust me?"

"Get him out, Gideon."

It has been two weeks, and Quinn is finally mobile, albeit slow. The past year has been difficult, culminating to the utter destruction of her light in the face of multiple hardships. She had become miserable, so unlike herself, feeling as though she might fall apart. There had been so much shame, and fear, and doubt in herself. And then, Finn happened.

The first time she laid eyes on him, everything changed and Quinn had been awakened to a life she had thought she lost. The sweet babe, a product of herself and her husband, revitalized her and nourished her soul in a way that could never be explained. An adoration she has never before experienced took hold, both for the infant and Gideon.

It never left.

In the days that followed Finn's introduction to the world, Quinn would listen to Gideon as he told her bits and pieces of the events that transpired on the day of their blessing. She would sit beside him, icing her healing belly and watching her husband intently as he spoke while he held their bundle of pure perfection. Other times, she would lean back upon him, nourishing or comforting the babe.

Every single time, and beyond, she would praise Gideon.

She would confess her cruel thoughts to him quietly, telling him of her silent wishes when he had promised Gwen the first time that he would remove her tongue if she were to continue.

But now, two weeks later, she has donned a familiar white dress. The weight has dropped from her frame quickly, and continues to. It wouldn't be long now before things are as close to what they were before as they would ever be. For now, she doesn't mind it's snug fit. Today is a long time coming, but she appreciates Gideon waiting for her to be ready.

And, as Finn sleeps off a fresh meal in a crib Gideon had made for him, she takes the time to appreciate her husband. These opportunities do not come often enough now, the two living almost two different schedules as Quinn spends the day with their child and Gideon tends to their Flock. The evenings, she rests, letting Gideon take charge of the house entirely. They work as a team, a single unit split in two.

Her hands lift, smoothing his shirt over his chest affectionately before her arms would slide around his middle. Quinn must be careful, as she leans into him, not to disrupt her healing. Not too tight, not too much pressure. Each day is an improvement, and would continue to be so, so long as she is mindful. Tilting her head back, she presses a kiss to his chin before nudging it with her nose, coaxing him into meeting her so that she may press her lips to his in an expression of pure devotion.

"You don't think it's too smoky out there, for Finn?" Her brows raise in concern, though her confidence in Gideon's ultimate decision is clear. Another soft kiss, and she decides to make a request. Something that has been lingering, on her mind and failing to ebb away. She feels strongly. So very, very strongly.

"I want to help, baby."

Quinn wants to partake.
November 15, 2018 05:39 pm

Gideon Abernathy

Gideon Abernathy finds a certain kind of satisfaction in being utterly exhausted. Be it after a kill, a hard day of tending to the Grove, or a fruitful season in his garden, it always leaves him blissful and peacefully spent. He’s a firm believer in throwing himself entirely into everything he does, which leaves little room for feelings of inadequacy.

Seeing after his healing wife and newborn child is not a chore, in his eye, and if he could, he’d do it all. He’s still so in awe of Quinn that he hovers, heart stopping when she winces for bending over too far or stretching too much. More times than not, in the two weeks since Finn’s arrival, he finds himself awake most nights simply watching them sleep. The bags under his eyes mean nothing; he just can’t tear his gaze away.

And his son...

Finn is a catalyst that the dark man was never prepared for. A lion’s pride fills Gideon every time he looks at him, and he’s constantly barraged with thoughts of who and what he would become. Would he take after his mother, or go down the darker path of his father.

He finds he doesn’t care which, only that Finn should be given the opportunity to learn and grow into his own.

In the meantime, Gideon will protect him fiercely, starting with eradicating the one that would rather have seen him and his mother die for the sake of what she deemed to be natural.

And the day has finally come.

Feeling her nudge him lightly, he smiles and bends slightly to press his lips to hers. Quinn is radiant, her light shining brightly once more even as the concern touches her warm eyes. Another reassuring kiss is placed on her forehead. “I’ve already instructed them to build a platform in the Gathering Hall, and we’ll put a cloth over his face when we take him out.”

The Grove had grown antsy when the smoke started creeping in from the southern wildfires, and Gideon had elected to abandon the market for the time being. All stock was removed, and the place seemed a ghost town, compared to its usual lively atmosphere. There were whispers around the commune that the Darkness had invaded, and the ritual to celebrate Finn’s birth was welcome news indeed; the whole place is abuzz with excitement.

Quinn voices her desire, and Gideon fixes her with a skeptical, albeit concerned, look. “You’re sure you feel well enough?”

Still, his eyes alight with his own form of excited anticipation.
November 16, 2018 12:30 pm

Quinn Abernathy

Just like that, Gideon has put her concerns at ease, and they are quick to disappear. The man has thought of everything, carrying the weight of their world upon his shoulders while also supporting herself and their son. Their perfect, beautiful son that has brought them back from the brink of breaking and reminded them of who they are.

Quinn can only smile at his questioning, oddly at peace with the idea of it all. She has killed for her husband, killed for them both, in dire situations or times when it felt absolutely prudent. Truthfully, she had only ever had one regret in her actions.

Her fingertips play with the hem of his shirt behind his back, running the over the fabric absently.

"I'm not sure it's a question of that, Giddy," she is calm, thoughtful in her words and impending actions. Quinn has never truly taken part in a ritual, at least not willingly. She skirted the the line, barely making herself known to the cult. There has never been and is still no desire to be part of them.

But this...

"It's important, isn't it? She would have let us both die, and she cannot be left feeling as though she won." Chocolate hues look over his features before meeting his bright, pitch pools. It is no secret that Quinn has held a chip on her shoulder once she became aware of Gwen's wickedness, bringing her to think far more cruel thoughts than she has ever really had time for.

A quiet deliberation is had as she takes his concern into account, her head tilting slightly left and then right, as she truly judges her own well-being in the face of her desires.

Another soft kiss is pressed upon him.

"Just one cut?" Her whispered plea is foreign upon her lips, and yet, it feels natural. "She wanted to let our baby die...."
November 16, 2018 01:50 pm
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