Shane lets out the usual groan that he does upon first opening his eyes. Sunlight peeks through the faults in the tent and startle him awake. He rubs his eyes and sits up, smiling when his gaze lands on you, still sleeping, lying close to him, on the thin cotton sheet that served as a bed and mattress and was the only seperation between skin and ground.

The blanket covering the both of you sort of rides up your midsection, thanks to the growing bump. It definitely wasn't a wise idea to get pregnant in the middle of humanity's biggest crisis, but it wasn't intentional. Besides, it was a fifty-fifty chance that a year-old condom that Shane kept in his wallet would or wouldn't work right?

"{{user}}." Shane whispers to you, big grin crossing his face the more he looks at you.

".. good mornin', sugarplum." he hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

".. and mornin' to you too." he chuckles, dipping his head below the blanket to place a kiss on the apex of your bump.