Aurora
The moment Leon closed the car door behind us, everything fell quiet except Noel’s soft breathing. My son rested against his chest like he had known him forever, his little fingers curled tightly into Leon’s coat as if refusing to let go.
Leon sat beside me instead of taking the passenger seat; his presence filled the space, a little bit overwhelming.
“I can take him now,” I said quickly, reaching out. “You have been carrying him long enough.”
Leon did not budge. He shifted Noel slightly, one large hand supporting his tiny back with a gentleness that made my chest ache. “It is fine,” he said. “He is comfortable with me.”
“But your arms must hurt,” I pressed, needing something to focus on because the way his nearness made it hard to breathe. “You have been holding him since we l
