Verity felt safe, warm, and like she had everything she'd ever truly wanted as she sat there curled in his arms, her legs nestled in the chair, and his soft lips on her neck. The only thing that ruined it from being a perfect moment was the guilt from the weekend. She nodded when he told her that it was alright if she wasn't ready, resolving to push George from her mind.
She felt nervous and she didn't know if that was a sign that she'd already made up her mind, or if it was just the thought of becoming a mother, a biological mother. Marlowe was such a joy to have around, even if it was a little trying sometimes, but he was six. There were perks to having a six-year old son. No dirty nappies, hardly any crying in the night, he knew his manners... and, she didn't have to give birth to him.
She found her hand going to her belly unconciously considering the idea of being pregnant. She felt excited and scared all at once and firmly told herself not to rush things.
His words made her life her head and she felt over-emotional as her throat tightened. She could see in his eyes that he was being honest. He wanted to have a child. With her. Together... She nearly laughed at the image of him holding a baby in his arms knowing that the big quidditch jock would likely be reduced to a pile of goo.
"Can I think about it?" she asked him softly, her hand caressing his neck. "I mean- I have been thinking about it. It's sort of hard to avoid right now... but, well- we have Marlowe and he needs us right now. I don't want a baby to distract from that or for him to feel as though he isn't good enough...
"And- I don't know, I'm a little scared I guess," she admitted very quietly.