Almost from the moment the infant is shifted into his arms, she begins to wake restlessly, with snuffling whimpers - as though she knows that Henri is not her father, but a stranger. Henri has held babies before, but none have seemed so fragile, so liable to break, and Sybbie’s clear unhappiness is doing nothing to improve Henri’s confidence.
Henri is not angry. He is frightened, and confused, and damnably tired, but he could never be angry. Still, there is a small part of him that feels robbed: not only of this first, perfect, day with his wife, but of the first few moments he had hoped to someday hold his own child.
Still, he offers Sybil what he hopes is an encouraging smile. “Mm. Though I fear she’s not very happy about it, poor thing."
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Date: 2015-10-02 02:44 am (UTC)Henri is not angry. He is frightened, and confused, and damnably tired, but he could never be angry. Still, there is a small part of him that feels robbed: not only of this first, perfect, day with his wife, but of the first few moments he had hoped to someday hold his own child.
Still, he offers Sybil what he hopes is an encouraging smile. “Mm. Though I fear she’s not very happy about it, poor thing."