Sofia's POV
He stepped further into the cave, the late-morning light illuminating his face. It was lined with exhaustion and a new kind of terror, a fear that mirrored my own. But beneath it all, there was a fierce determination. He didn't come to argue or to apologize for last night. He came with a mission.
"Sofia," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I need you to heat some water. We have to bathe her." He glanced down at the tiny bundle in his arms, which had just started to whimper, a small, bird-like sound. "And I need your help with this." He gestured toward a small, metallic can in his other hand. "It's milk. I don't know how to prepare it."
I stared at him, my mind still reeling. The book lay forgotten at my feet. The breakfast I had so carefully prepared was now a distant thought. There was no room for shame or regret. There was only this new, overwhelming reality.
"Okay," I managed to say, my voice a little shaky. I moved to the fire pit, pulling our largest metal pot closer to the flames. As I filled it with water from our water skin, I couldn't help but ask, "Where did you find her, Eric? Her mother...?"
He sat down on his bedroll, gently adjusting the baby in his arms. His gaze never left her face, his eyes studying her as if she were the most precious, delicate thing in the world. He spoke slowly, carefully, his voice filled with a quiet reverence. "In the bushes, not far from here. Her mother was... gone. I found her just in time."
He looked up at me, a flash of something raw and desperate in his eyes. "I had to hurry. The smell... of the blood. Childbirth. I had to get her away before they smelled it." He ran a gentle finger along the baby's cheek, a gesture so tender it made my heart ache. "She was lucky her mother was so close to the cave. It saved her."
The water began to steam. The baby's whimper grew into a full-throated cry, a sound that pierced the heavy silence and filled the space with a potent, undeniable life. Eric looked panicked, helpless. He looked at the baby, then at me, his eyes wide.
"I... I don't know how to do this," he admitted, his voice a whisper. "I don't know how to bathe her."
Without a second thought, I knelt beside him. The baby was crying in his arms, her face red and scrunched up. Gently, I took her from him, her small body feeling impossibly light in my hands. The warmth of the water I had heated, the frantic cries of the baby, the scent of the strange milk—it all converged into a single, profound moment. The chasm between us had not just been bridged; it had been filled entirely by this new, shared responsibility. I held the baby close, murmuring soft, nonsensical words to her as I began to prepare the makeshift bath. The baby's cries subsided into a few small whimpers.
After the bath, I used a piece of soft cloth to gently dry her. I then prepared the milk he had brought, carefully mixing the powder with warm water. He watched my every move, his expression a mixture of relief and awe.
I took the baby, wrapped and clean, and carefully held the bottle to her mouth. She latched on immediately, her small hands batting at the air as she drank. She was a perfect, tiny, beautiful survivor. And in that moment, so were we.
About 10-15 minutes after dinner, the baby started to fuss again, and Eric looked at me uncertainly.
"Is it time to feed again?" he asked.
I nodded. "It's cluster feeding time," I said with a smile. "Newborns often feed frequently in the evening sometimes every 10-15 minutes, it's like they are tanking up for the night ahead."
Eric nodded, and we repeated the feeding process. The baby fed again, and then again about 10-15 minutes later.
As Eric fed the baby, I couldn't help but notice how natural Eric seemed with the little one. He was patient, gentle, and loving – a total contrast to the rough, rugged exterior he often showed the world.
As the baby finally drifted off to sleep. "Thanks for your help, Sofia," he said
I smiled back, feeling a warmth in my chest. "You're welcome, Eric," I said. "We make a good team, you know."
As we sat there in comfortable silence, I couldn't help but chat excitedly. "I'm so glad you found this baby," I said, smiling at Eric. "It's like a little miracle."
Eric grunted, his expression unreadable.
I laughed. "I know, I know, you're not the sentimental type," I teased. "But come on, Eric, even you have to admit that this little one is adorable."
Eric raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to the baby before returning to me. "It's a baby," he said flatly.
I chuckled. "Wow, Eric, you're a real charmer," I joked. "I'm surprised you didn't say 'it's a thing'."
Eric's expression didn't change, but I caught a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"You know, Eric," I said, studying him, "I think this baby brings out a softer side of you."
Eric snorted. "Don't be ridiculous."
I smiled slyly. "Oh, I'm not being ridiculous," I said. "I remember when you saved me from those monsters. You were ready to let me go, to send me on my way. But look at you now, caring for this baby like it's your own."
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the leather of his jacket creaking. "That's different," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're... you're capable. You can handle yourself. This is a baby. It needs someone to look after it."
"And you're doing a great job," I said softly, my voice filled with sincerity. "You're a good man, Eric. Underneath all that gruffness, you have a huge heart."
Eric just shook his head, looking away from me and towards the sleeping baby. The dim light from the lamp cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the lines around his eyes and mouth. He looked tired, but also content.
"It's just what you do," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "When you find something helpless, you... you help it."
I leaned my head back against the wall, a peaceful smile on my face. "See? I knew it," I said. "You're a natural-born protector."
He didn't respond, just sat there, watching over the baby with a quiet intensity. The silence wasn't awkward, but rather comforting, a testament to the bond that was forming between us. It was a strange trio: me, the girl who had stumbled into his life; Eric, the gruff, solitary man; and this tiny, helpless creature that had brought us together.
And in that moment, as I watched the two of them, I knew we were a family. Not by blood, but by choice. We had found each other, and in this chaotic, monster-filled world, we had found a home.
I closed my eyes, a sense of hope blooming in my chest. The world was still a dangerous place, but with Eric and the baby by my side, I felt like we could face anything. We were a team, a family, and we were going to be okay.