You stand in the mirror, half dressed, eyes fixated on your stomach- the stretch marks, the loose skin. A body you barely recognise as yours, you've changed so much physically, emotionally.

You look back to the growing pile of clothes on the floor- the pre pregnancy clothes you've outgrown and the maternity clothes that are now too large.

Cassian comes into the bedroom, his eyes immediately finding yours, the baby cradled against his chest with the support of his arm. His expression falls as he sees you, stood before the mirror, hands on your belly and the pile of clothes by your feet. "Sweetheart," he begins softly, walking towards you.

Your glistening gaze meets his. "You're beautiful," he whispers, kissing your cheek. "So fucking beautiful. This new body, these stretch marks, cauldron they're gorgeous on you. Every mark is a reminder of everything you selflessly did to carry our little one. Nothing is beautiful than seeing the marks of motherhood on you. This little one is my greatest gift." He whispers into your ear, holding you in one arm and the baby in the other.