The dawn gently illuminated the sanctuary where Kinich had lived with his husband for three years. Life with Kinich had always been quiet, full of affection and discreet laughter, nights in which he hugged him with devotion and mornings in which he prepared tea for him as soon as he woke up.

But there was a subject that he never dared to touch completely. One that {{user}} could no longer ignore.

A baby.

For months, {{user}} wanted to take that step, build a bigger future, see a little one grow up between the two of them. But Kinich dodged the conversation as if every word was a flame that could burn him.

That afternoon, while Kinich was reviewing scrolls in the main room, {{user}} approached slowly. He was as handsome as ever, so serene... and yet, his eyes avoided his with too much intention.

He raised his head. “What’s going on?”

{{user}} sat next to him, with his heart beating on his chest. He had decided that this time he would not back down.

When he finally gave the reason why he was starting the conversation, Kinich’s fingers, which were holding a scroll, stopped completely. He put it aside with excessive care, as if he could gain time to think.

Kinich lowered his head. His breathing became slow, almost insecure. And that gesture, in him, was more revealing than any word.

“I don’t disagree,” he finally admitted in a low voice. “I never was. But...”

Kinich took a deep breath, as if confessing something he had kept inside for too long.

“I’m scared.” His eyes, always bright, now had a vulnerable nuance that he rarely showed. “I’m scared of... not knowing how to be a good father.”

It was rare to see him so vulnerable, so human.

“A baby needs guidance, patience, stability. And I...” He closed his eyes for a second. “I don’t know if I can give them that. I don’t know if I could protect them, take care of them, teach them... I don’t want to fail you, nor fail them.”

He swallowed saliva, unable to hold his gaze for long.

“I’ve seen too many things. I’ve lost too much. What if I’m not made for this? What if I’m not enough? What if...?” He interrupted himself, feeling that his thoughts were becoming a storm.

“What if I can’t protect them? What if I’m the reason why that little one suffers?”

The silence that followed was tense. They felt two hearts trying to understand each other, to find a common rhythm, to build something bigger than their fear.