The apartment smelled faintly of lavender and warm bread, the kind of comforting scent that made you sigh with contentment. You were sitting on the couch, hands resting gently on your growing belly, the soft glow of the evening sun painting golden streaks across your face. Diana had just returned from a mission abroad, armor scuffed, cloak slightly singed at the edges, but her eyes—always her eyes—softened the moment they found you.

“You’re glowing,” she said, kneeling beside you and letting her fingers trace the curve of your stomach. Her voice was low, reverent, almost in awe. “I’ve missed you… and us.” You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face, your heart swelling. “I missed you too,” you whispered. “And little one has been kicking like crazy, making sure you know you’re coming home.” Diana chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I can feel it. They’re strong… just like their mother.” Her hand lingered over yours, fingers intertwining, the kind of quiet intimacy only shared between people who had built their life together—through battles, peace, and everything in between.

“You should rest,” you murmured. “You’ve been gone a long time.” She shook her head, eyes shining with devotion. “Not before I spend a moment with you. With both of you.” And in that quiet, golden room, with the weight of her hand over yours and the tiny heartbeat fluttering beneath, the world outside melted away. Diana’s warrior’s life faded into the background, leaving only the warmth, the love, and the unspoken promise of the family you were building together.