a lullaby // reborn

“I’d do anything…”

“First comes love,”

You were, despite the cliché, swept off your feet. Reborn had an ability to alter your sense of gravity. Whenever he touched you, ragged breaths would escape your lips and sweaty palms would desperately seek anchorage. The ground would slip from under you and you’d be floating, drifting into soothing warmth.

A sensation you’d been close to savoring many times before—in relationships long gone. However, you never quite reached it. It always eluded you until you found him.

He was the one who finally drew you in.

“…then comes marriage,”

With the moon and stars as your witnesses, Reborn couldn’t have arranged a better way to step down on one knee and retrieve a small velvet box from his pocket. His hand, calloused from years of hardships, held yours delicately. You could distinguish tenderness in his normally steely eyes, a softness that only you could bring to him.

His mouth formed words that you’d long to hear spoken to you since he came into your life.

And you, a smile curled onto your lips, whispered two words he’d dreamt of hearing from you from the moment he’d realized he wanted to wake up every morning next to you, to return to a home with you there, and to always say “I love you” to you and only you.

Everything and everyone before were fillers in a grander scheme of his and your life.

With silver bands, vows, and the first kiss of many, Reborn and you walked into a chapter of your lives together.

“…then comes a baby in a baby carriage.”

“[Name].”

Hunched over, knees to your chest, shoulders trembling violently, you clamped a hand over your mouth—muffling your strangled sobs and involuntary sniffles. You did not answer him. You were incapable of facing him, terrified to expose the wretched, broken state you were in.

“[Name].” Reborn walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your small frame. He enveloped you in his embrace, hoping to stifle your sorrow. Stroking your hair, he murmured softly, “Don’t blame yourself, [Name]. It’s alright.”

“A miracle,” you stammered, your voice full of shattered glass. “She said it would t-take a miracle, Reborn.” You began to tremble more vehemently. Your chest was as heavy as lead. Breathing was a burden. Thinking was torture. The truth clawed through ribs, sinking into your heart, reminding you again and again of an impossible dream.

Reborn pulled you onto his lap, rubbing up and down your arm. “Shh,” he spoke gently, “It’s alright, [Name].” Holding your face, he tilted your chin to look straight into your eyes. “We’ll keep trying.”

“B-but, Reborn, she said—.” Reborn pressed his lips to yours, smothering you in his essence.

“It doesn’t matter,” he murmured against your lips, caressing your cheek. Wiping a stray tear from your eye, he smiled lovingly. “[Name], I don’t mind having only you in my life.”

You could feel a swell of warmth within your bosom, invisible claws retracting steadily.

“R-reborn, I am sor—.”

“Don’t. I don’t care about such a thing as continuing my line.” Reborn pushed strands of your hair that’d fallen onto your face behind your ear. “I have you. That’s enough.” Kissing your forehead, he held your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes with such certainty and faith. “And if you want to have one, there’s one thing we can do.”

Blinking blearily, your eyebrows arched and nose crinkled as Reborn’s lips curled at the corners. Placing a chaste kiss on your lips, he chuckled airily.

“We’ll make a miracle.”

“…just to hold you in my arms; to try to make you laugh.”