#IGNIS ;; ( ♥ CINDY . TOPMECHANIIC )

[tenebriism]

❝ Baaaaaabe. ❞ Comes a call from the living room. Nothing of an urgent or distressful quality, merely a beckoning tone. However, when Ignis does finds Cindy, she is lounging upon a fluffy beanbag, finished novel now resting upon ever growing middle, and in a bit of a predicament.

❝ Iggy… ❞ She looks up to him with mossy hues, wide as saucers and a misty resignation to her ordeal. She does not want to cry over this, tries so hard to keep those sudden waves of emotion at bay. But her chin occasionally lifts with each inhale as she stifles down any sobs attempting to break loose.

❝ I think … ❞ she tries in vain to wiggle herself free, ❝ I think m’stuck. ❞ // forever crying over mama and papa scientia (⁠･ั⁠ω⁠･ั⁠)

" --- yes, darling? " His response is immediate, cooking tools already being lowered to the counter so he may prioritize her in full without delay. Since childhood, he has always been overly mindful of tone and response time... NEEDED to be, to keep Noctis alive and out of trouble, for the boy had not been given the easiest or most merciful of health records. Natural, then, that his dutiful advisor would continue this habit even in the presence of others, and especially so, his wife.

Well loved and worn leather protests as he adjusts his gloves before peeking into the room, trying to deduce what need she has of him before having to ask. The remote, is it too far away? Mayhap she is hungry, thirsty? A pregnant woman differs only somewhat from a spoiled prince, in that their needs are largely similar, but Ignis is not against ENCOURAGING the former to make use of him even for the smallest, most mundane of tasks.

Including, but not limited to, helping her from this cushioned prison.

" Oh, darling... " He tries not to laugh, he really, TRULY does, but his amusement is clear as day 'pon his visage even without an audible sign. " 'Tis inevitable that this would occur at some point. You need not feel ashamed. " The moment they'd found out they were to be parents, Ignis had consulted every female he knew for advice and beyond, and read more books and articles than even he could keep track of. One thing that been both notable and recurring? ' Stuck Stories, ' as they had humorously named them. The couch, the car, the bathtub--- it seems every location imaginable, even UNimaginable, made the list of places a woman heavy with child had gotten stuck.

His expression finally stops betraying his endeavor to refrain from making her feel worse, and now, he may focus on freeing her. Lowering to her level, he first plucks the book from the swell of her belly and sets it atop the nearby table to be retrieved later on, before an arm nudges its way 'round her backside for support. Opposite hand slips into hers, and on the count of three, he carefully pulls her upwards and onto her feet with a light grunt.

" There. Welcome back to the world of the upright. Are you okay? " He remembers how it had felt being so helpless. Having to rely on others for the most basic of things whilst he was recovering following the moments after Noctis and Lunafreya had saved him from a self-chosen death. He hadn't been down for long, much to Gladio and Noctis' worry, but the few days his independence had been stripped from him had been agonizing.

Cindy, too, is much like her husband in that she prefers to do everything on her own, oft running herself ragged as a result. 'Tis a wonder they've both made it this far, surviving both daemons and terrible work habits, the latter just as dangerous as the former.

" Come now, do not cry; I've got you. I am here. " He peppers kisses along her cheeks and jawline, hoping to offer a smidgen of comfort in a time where emotions and stress were high, and only certain to worsen as the fated day got closer. " What may I do to make it better? "

@topmechaniic ;;

[onuscientia]

Cindy knows they both must rouse themselves from the comfort of warm blankets and even warmer embrace. But there comes a rare streak of rebellion towards greeting the work day and the Mechanic gives a disapproving groan before the Advisor's inevitable stirring.

"Mmph, jus' five more minutes, darlin'..." A pause to slightly lift her head, her voice sounding heavy with sleep, hair wild about her face as she looks to Ignis with a beseeching hint in her eyes.

"Please?"

Unprompted Ask - [ ALWAYS ACCEPTING ] : @topmechaniic ;;

Like clockwork, he wakes before his alarm is set to blare, swift to switch it off before it, inevitably, poses an unnecessary annoyance. Yet, whereas he'd have pulled the covers off and sought productivity near immediately had he been alone, he's notably STILL 'pon realization that a certain somehow still lay, comfortably and content, within his arms. In a rare display of irresponsibleness, he's strangely UNWILLING to part from her just yet, and it would appear, endearingly and humorously, that she is much the same.

" Darling . . . " he chuckles, running a few fingers through her hair, " From personal experience, I would know that ' five more minutes ' oft means, and turns into, far more. "

Such is not to make a personal dig at his liege, but the prince could be particularly HARDPRESSED to rise in a timely manner in the mornings. Five more minutes, indeed, oft extended far beyond that.

Yet, Cindy's expression tugs at heartstrings not even Ignis could ignore in favor of sticking to his strict, orderly schedule. With a sigh, born of amusement and unrivaled affection for the woman he held dearest to his heart, he leans in to kiss her cheek, forehead, and lips. " I suppose . . . just this once we may dawdle a tad longer, if it shall grant me an opportunity to further bask in your presence. Additionally, you may consider what you would like for breakfast, as well. "

[tenebriism]

She's been contemplating how to go about announcing this for a couple days now. Not wanting to overthink herself into oblivion, Cindy goes for a simpler approach.

So she waits until they finished dinner and lounging on the couch before excitedly hopping from her reclined position.

"Oh, I think I left somethin' in the oven!" A convenient little fib as she rushes back to the kitchen and comes back with a present cradled in her hands; a small wrapped gift containing a pair of newborn baby shoes with a tag saying 'happy father's day'.

"Been cooking this up for a minute now." There's little hiding the smile beginning to bloom across her face as gaze darts from the shoes to Ignis trying to gauge the reaction in the moment.

--- something in the . . . oven ? How queer. Senses were known to worsen with stress and age, but he liked to think his NOSE still worked as it should ( and he's certain, verily so, that he hadn't detected the scent of any manner of culinary endeavor ). He has no reason to deem her a LIAR, though, and waits with that courteous patience, moving only to GREET her when she finally returns to his side.

When the gift is brandished and extended his way, Ignis offers her a, perhaps humorous look of playful confusion. Had she not gone to tend to the oven ? It's a difficult change to make, this . . . not approaching EVERYTHING with logic and logic alone, especially in these casual, relaxed settings where his beloved was known to be cutesy and playful. She was helping him learn how to EASE UP outside of work, and aiding him in finding ways to do so even when addled with it, but . . . old habits die hard. He's running through holidays, notable dates, even the most MINOR of occasions in his head as he pulls the ribbon off the gift, his gaze darting betwixt that of her own and the footwear that he slowly, gently, tugged from the box.

" . . . Happy Father's Day. . . ? " It doesn't hit yet. He ALMOST starts to believe she's given him the wrong gift, and then . . . after some few seconds of letting the scattered pieces slip themselves into place, it registers. The oven . . . she DID have something in the oven--- no, HAS. Cooking, baking . . . tiny shoes, father. Oh, Astrals, he . . .

Was this real ?

" Cindy. " Any other occasion, he may WINCE at how quiet and uncertain his voice sounds, but that's hardly deserving of his focus, right now. His palms begin to tremble, from where he was still, somewhat awkwardly, holding the tiny shoes, daring not tear his gaze from her face as if waiting for her to burst out laughing, calling this some . . . elaborate PRANK. Yet, the joy in both her eyes and her smile are unmistakable. " Are you pre . . . a-are you . . . " He chokes on his words, feeling the sting of oncoming tears, and it's evident in the way he starts to frantically look around, somewhat turning there and here, that he doesn't quite know what to do with himself. " Are you pregnant ? Tell me, are you ? Cindy . . . " And thus, comes the lip tremble, and the inevitable spill over of emotions. When he finally remembers he CAN set the shoes down somewhere, he does just that and reaches for her, looking a right MESS despite his feverish attempts to retain some semblance of composure.

" Darling . . . oh, my gods . . . " He daren't hope so feverishly until she confirms it, but oh, does his heart yearn for it to be the truth.

@topmechaniic ;; ♥

[tenebriism]

Sees Cindy. IMMEDIATELY smiles.