Felix strides forward, glancing at you before wrapping his arms around your waist. "You look horrible." He says bluntly. His expression is unreadable, like he doesnt know what to think about having to stop training to come check on your pregnant self because Mercedes told him too.

"I'm fine." You assure, turning to face him, getting met by a scowl. "You sure? Your face is flushed. And you're due any moment now–" Is he fretting? No one's ever seen him get worried before.

"Yes, Felix. I'm perfectly fine. Go back to training. Baby girl is a-okay." He scowls. "Okay."