cole’s jaw clenched. not from anger, not from fear. from feeling. deep, raw, and ragged. he’d never been good at talking through things like this. hell, he wasn’t even sure he was supposed to have things like this. but here it was—winnie, twitch, the weight of the world wrapped up in two women he’d never stop choosing.
he didn’t move when twitch pulled back. just gave her the room, the quiet, the steady rhythm of his presence to brace against. and when winnie said those words, soft as a lullaby, and twitch groaned like the whole sky had collapsed on her shoulders, his breath hitched. not from panic—but from that old ache, the one that whispered protect them even if it meant dying on his feet.
and then she touched her.
not much. not loud. but it was everything.
cole exhaled slow through his nose, head dipping just slightly, like something sacred had passed between them. he looked to winslet then, and his eyes softened.
i’ll keep you safe, he murmured, roughened voice barely above a whisper. not a promise. a fact. his gaze flicked to twitch, then back to winnie, resting on her belly just long enough for understanding to bloom like the morning sun.
all of you.