Re: Capital: Sam & Cris
He'd talk about it again, huh? In a minute. For now, he wanted her to see Joey, and that seemed more important. She braced her hands on the sill before the nursery, her skin losing its little color to the waxy wall. He leaned against the ledge with his upper thigh, being too tall for it to be his hip, and he tried to kinda cant away a lil bit, so he wouldn't be shoving his still-hard cock up against glass to point out his newborn kid. He had a hand twirling the gold taila Sam's braid. She said she was good and he smiled at her.
He wasn't disappointed. He'd put her on edge, with all his talking. "Sorry. I need to learn when to shut up, huh? My dad always said so." He rubbed the puffa the braid's end to Sam's cheek, tickling, before letting it go and replacing his palm to the smalla her back. He rubbed there and looked into the nursery, to the rows and rowsa incubators, IVs, and babies plugged in like they weren't done cooking yet.
He knew where Joey was. Sorta near the front, left side, two in. "There she is." You could tell, even from this far, her skin was darker on the pink blanket beneath her. She was small. Her hair was nothing but a puffa black, more a breath than anything, and she squirmed a bit, like she knew maybe she was being studied too hard. Cris' hand slid, from the divot in Sam's back, 'round to her hip, and he let her lean on him, if she wanted. He smiled, sideways at the gringa. "Whaddaya think?"