Ah Ryan, you're a good-lookin' bastard , from the collarbone up, that is. But for a rude shock , all a woman needs to do is--" . Ryan snatched up a fistful of fries, tossing one into his mouth and assailing another at Liam's unkempt hair. "You just drink the alcohol I shouted you, alright." Liam's smirk enlivened his features with electricity as the grease-laden fry embedded itself in his gritty strands. Midnight had come and went and the bruises under Liam's eyes collected the darkness of the bar, Ryan's fatigue glowering in his eyes as he yawned. "Oh, I'll enjoy every drop, but seriously, the blonde at three o'clock ...has her eyes all over you. You're already naked at this point, in her head anyway." As Ryan's head turned with wry inquisition , Liam emptied his glass, swilling the final mouthful as amusement danced across his unshaven face. Ryan cursed under his breath, winking into the sea of bodies and forgetting Liam's existence as he rose from his stool. "Finish my Hennessy Li'..." he trailed off as he disappeared under the dim filter of light, abandoning the counter with distraction. "Yeah, you won't be back," Liam muttered, tracing the rim of his glass in a dwindling circle as Ryan's voice faded under the din of chatter and a vague Red Hot Chili Pepper song. As traces of cigarette smoke filtered through the air, perspiration and the fatigue of two am weighed on his posture as he countered, "And I'll just be finishing this..." Then, as his hand gravitated towards the abandoned Hennessy, the tepid feel of the glass caused him to reconsider. As he found himself staring at the basket of remaining bar fries, his stomach churned with revulsion. His eye sockets ached with the impact of his earlier scuffle, and the fleeting solitude left him recounting his brush with the concrete. "Well here's to drinkin' alone" , he muttered to no one in particular, the dank atmosphere receiving his one-sided toast . "What do we have over here, a sight for sore eyes , busy talking to himself?" As the smoke infused lilt of a female voice wove through his moment of introspection, her eyes caught him off guard and he paused. "I was not talking to myself," he replied with a weary grin. "It seems I was talking to you too-" Her green irises held his gaze with a hint of unmatched humour as she claimed the space Ryan had abandoned, swinging around on his vacant stool . "And he thinks he's funny, huh?" Liam's broad grin, lopsided and drunken, propped up a dimple on his right cheek as he asked, "Well, he made you laugh, I suppose that's something goin' in my favour?" She was already reaching out and rearranging his grime-infused hair as her laughter interspersed the closing space between them. Her weathered jacket, a khaki, vintage leather, contrasted against the counter's dulled wooden surface. "Yeah, maybe he got a laugh , but can he talk me out of leaving here with my friends...he has twenty seconds starting from now". As her finger grazed his earlobe , he raised an eyebrow, taking on a lesser challenge than his night had endured. "Oh, twenty seconds huh? Gimme ten. My friend up and left his drink, and now, you're gonna let me finish it ? I'll end up rotten ya know..." She smirked as she finished her toying with his light strands , and roughed his hairline as he leaned forward , resting his chin on his elbow. "You look like you haven't slept in a week, and I know the feeling to be honest " she said with a casualty in her voice, ensnaring a fry from the basket and helping herself to a sodium hit. As she engaged with his bloodshot eyes, her own gaze shone with flecks of amber, hidden amongst a distinct green hue. "So you're telling me you haven't slept , I'd say you don't look half bad for it. Here I am looking like shit on toast-and hell, maybe I haven't slept either," he admitted, his fingers tracing circles on the counter between them. She offered a smile laced with jest, the fatigue in her own eyes betraying her tease of his time running away. "Well, you had more than twenty seconds, but the question is, will I stay?" As her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose ringlets , she turned away, and Liam asked, only half joking, "Oh, I failed huh? There may just be a dark corner over there, where you could tell me your name..." Her eyes, flickering with a challenge, confronted him as she smoothed her palm over the collar of his Henley. "If I drag you over there, how long could you stay awake, soldier?" She gestured towards his fatigues, the dust imbued in the fibers, as he managed a grin. "We could always fall asleep together..." She broke into a smile, her laughter intoxicating as she twisted around to face him. "So you are in the force? You're deployed?" His eyes held on hers as he shook his head, reaching for a dilapidated fry and rotating it between his knuckles. "No, but I did spend a hell of a time in the middle of nowhere-but what I want to know is, why haven't you slept huh?" Her softened gaze almost answered for her as she leaned in on one elbow. "I was - in fact you know what- let's just start with the basics. I'm Emma." As he absorbed her striking features, his own name, already off his tongue, struck him whilst his facade maintained its forefront. "Liam. Not deployed , but hey I'll take it. Beats the alternative at this stage. " Her smile was gentle as she tucked a strand of hair from her vision . "The alternative huh -a stint in the middle of nowhere , sounds intriguing to me ." He averted his gaze, caught off guard yet again by her raw nonchalance. "So, you're still here huh? And I bet you're thinking, how the hell did get this-' he asked , gesturing to the indentations above his cheekbones, still screaming with pain , the dark circles prominent . "Well, you were probably rough-housing , acting dumb-" she said, amused yet unfazed. He only offered a smirk, before shaking his head and eyeing the basket of fries with reconsideration. "Damn it's been a hell of a night. Rough-housing, that sounds a lot better than what happened-good thing I can handle myself I spose' " . After almost succumbing to a fry despite his churning stomach, he noticed her smoky, metallic scent, its overtones of embers and warmth infiltrating his lungs. He missed a breath, savouring its contrast to the sweat and alcohol clinging to his flesh. "I might have lost my drivers license , lucky I didn't have a wallet to fleece, kept my credit card in my other pocket thank God for that- But I'll live-let's talk about you" he said, as his wits drowned in the encroaching lull of her presence, as her fingers hovered near his hairline in concern. "Yeah, still I'm sorry you've had a rough night. " She traced a finger through his hair, the pain easing under her cool skin as his resolve finally broke and he picked up a fry, snagging it in his teeth. "Thanks, but I've had worse nights-the company ain't half bad. " he said, ingesting the food and reaching for a napkin . As Emma grazed her hand against his , gathering a few more of the limp fries into her hand , as she moved her other hand toward his eyebrow. "As for me, well, I guess it's been awhile since I've set foot in a place like this , and I haven't been home in even longer. But I don't want to bore you with the details. There's too many , and you look as though you've lived through a fair amount of details already . I'm surprised that blow to your right eye didn't clear you out cold ." The memory , causing him to flinch and chuckle at the same time had him musing in silence. "Well , that was before I sank a few. And I don't wanna press ya for details , green eyes, tonight can be for tonight huh? " as her finger roamed across the scar in his brow, she smiled , "Sure, tonight is just for us-So tell me, how did we get this ? You're gonna play it off but, it looks like it was painful-hasn't even faded" . With a shrug, his tone lost the encompassing energy that had laced it and he answered in one breath. "That scar , I wasn't conscious when they-. " As if expecting the deflection but not retreating, she asked , as her finger remained in the etched line , rough with stitches . "So what's the story ? Just an honest truth...for tonight...I'm still here right? So hit me" . He offered a crooked smirk, and replied "ah cmon now , I would never hit a woman with ...this ugly incident. Ryan was unfortunate enough to have had to play surgeon on that . Hell of a wound but, he don't flinch easy. And yeah that was only a few months ago." As his eyes darkened , she reached forward and buttoned his crooked Henley, and then unbuttoned it again, as he gazed into his lap. "Yeah , it was a long month, and I feel like if you don't leave, I might tell you things you don't wanna hear. Talking to you is too easy -" His eyelids sank with inebriation and fatigue as his ran a hand over his face, groaning at the touch of his own skin. "But on the other hand , I might just pass out if you keep talking with that voice of yours-" Emma laughed as she reached for the last fry, absentminded in doing so, and sighed as she admitted "It's a weapon, right? But I wouldn't dream of having you all messy and ass-down on a greasy counter at four am. I assume Ryan is that dark haired stranger whose stool I claimed? I can hear him from over here." Ryan's laugh rang through the air as he strode toward the exit, leading an unfamiliar woman through the crowd behind him. "Ah that's the guy, sometimes the back of him is a nice view because it means I can think", Liam smirked , tilting his eyes under the fluorescent light. "Oh , think about what? " she asked , catching his gaze with inquisition. "Well, I've long overstepped my twenty seconds and I still don't know a thing about you. And I've got all night. " With her chin propped between both elbows , the dim light flickered across her cheeks, and she eyed the empty basket . "How about I shout us some fries , and I'll tell you about my dog , zeppelin, I left him to be on the road and I bet he's peed on every carpet by now..." . Liam , rearranging his own hair as he followed the lilt of her voice into a micro sleep, and woke to her holding him upright. "Hey , he's slipping away , am I that boring I suppose" she said, but still laughing . "Oh God I'm sorry -" he said, the rusted shadow of his unshaven jaw masking his drawn appearance. "Ah , it's your fault anyway , I told ya that voice is -well anyway, you'd better get home to your dog, maybe not yet but , y'know... before the poor ol' boy has to move in with the neighbours. " All she said was a resolute "Yeah. " And silence fell between them. ----//// As an hour elapsed , the fresh heat of the fries deteriorated into cold remains . Several rounds of drinks slaved their nerves as Liam spun his credit card under his thumb. "Those bastards had me in both eyes, and they were this close to my temporal-y'know -thing up here somewhere" He stabbed , albeit messily, at his forehead, and swung his arm back down on the counter. "Looks like we're shutting this place down ..." she noted, as her own awareness grew hazy. "I guess, you've earned this , soldier " As she nodded toward his pocket, sliding a napkin with traces of matte orange lipstick and a scrawled number into his hand, she pulled her jacket tightly around her frame. Then as he accepted the stained remnant of their night into his fatigues , he dodged the yellow lights and their spasmodic flickering . "I want to tell you... the reason you might not-" . Liam's hand hesitated as he continued , almost drawling with the alcohol catching up to his accent. "You ain't gonna hear from me again because...that operation that went south, it was illegal , and I wasn't there because I wanted to be-" Her face, draining of its warmth, mirrored her paling eyes. "Tell me, you weren't jumped earlier, when your listener was beaten out of you, it was more than that?". His gaze trailed back to his lap as he cursed out of ear shot. "I was nearly dragged back to that middle of nowhere-nearly pissed myself right there in the street and well, Ryan's shout of drinks was as much for himself as it was for me. I know I have more history than anyone else here, and you should probably be-" . There was a long silence, his eyes disengaged from hers as she finally found words. "That's true, that I shouldn't be sitting here wasting my time with you-but you have a few things that come with the dark past, that I happen to notice. Half of these guys dont have the depth ..." He laughed , more to himself , his voice hollow. "They don't have the guts , but then , what makes me so special , I'm a mess but-" She smiled , and answered with a deft swipe at his hair . "Oh deal with it, I can see through it y'know, you've already lost the argument before you started." He stared at his lap , incredulous, as he drained his glass and said, flatly. "No , I'm outright telling you, I'm a ghost." As Emma's rose from her stool she said a few words he had to strain to hear. "But, soldier , you're not dead."

What's beautiful about their exchange

Highlight the most intimate moments

Coukd you quote these moments

His old are Liam and Emma

What dialogue is especially interesting

What about this passage : Clouds Holding her closer to his pulse, Max stood against the metallic wall of the NICU; her fluttering heartbeat was steady and reassuring. "Hey, beautiful, I suppose it's just you and me now. But we'll be alright; I promise you. Despite all your suffering, you're still far more resilient than your old man." He paused, suddenly feeling his mere twenty-six years of life weighing on his frame as he offered equilibrium to her dependent, innocent youth as she gazed up at him. Her hazel irises stared intently into his matching brown and amber aspect, and a smile crossed his lips. "My God, I can't believe you're already seven days old, and hey, you're worth more than anything else I have ." His voice trailed off as his gaze lingered on her translucent skin, her veins shining under the soft light. "And you're so gorgeous, so perfect. A little fighter, and brave as hell, too." Exhausted but at peace with her fitting perfectly between his wrist and forearm, he sighed with a profound sense of fulfillment and redemption. Standing placated in the encroaching dusk, as he pulled her closer against his chest, his gaze drifted to the glass window beyond him. Amidst the fading light that outlined buildings and wisps of smog, he felt a sense of perishing hope; one that he clung to with grit and resolve, if only for her sake. As he gently traced her delicate features with his finger, she reached up and hooked her index finger over his thumb, creating a fragile but powerful lifeline, transpiring through the grim backdrop of her makeshift nursery. "Lily bean, now see your mom--" He hadn't the words to continue the thought as her intricate grasp on his slid away, her hand splaying across her chest as she slipped into slumber. "You can sleep; there'll be plenty of time to stare at this mug in the morning." He exhaled with relief as her consciousness seemed to melt away into the bleak atmosphere. As her breathing then fell against his palm, it was a soothing rhythm, leaving him stupefied in the peaceful lull of the ebb and flow. ,"of course , you look just like her? Well, you actually kinda resemble me, and now that's not so great, huh?" Max smiled at her oblivion, which he prayed would not betray her someday. "Don't you dare wake up yet," he muttered, her sleeping form realigning itself against him, seeming to sense his presence as her pulse slowed. Unable to even move, Max stood with the sleeping infant, too exhausted to lay her down in the clinical humidicrib of sallow light that hummed with a disconcerting tone. Overwrought with fatigue yet savoring the fleeting moment of solace, he willed it to engulf him in its embrace. Although it tore incremental fragments from his being, it was solace all the same. After a nurse finally intervened, alleviating Max of his daughter and his zombified stupor , he was caught in a suspended network of disconnected wires, live endings strewn through his brain. Not daring to seek unconsciousness yet, not until visiting hours drained away , Max steeled himself against the wall near the disconcerting crib , as her agonised cries gnawed at him. The solace had only lasted a few hours, already she was awake and screaming. But if it signified one thing ;she was breathing , and recalling her birth , he sighed in lament. As her cries continued, medical staff tended to her, leaving his depraved mind to watch in exhaustion. Minutes dragged as he wrested with the pull of sleep, haunted by just how vital her lungfuls of air were , despite conveying pain. The sound shrouded his mind as he revisited her first cry, only closing his eyes to let the moment invade him. The room , dimly lit and filled with tension, held a measured focus and intense energy that enveloped them both. "That's it, Elara, one more push..." a voice encouraged from the far distance, as the room seemed to fall away, the space between them growing closer. Max felt her hand interweave with the hair at the nape of his neck as she wound her fingers against his scalp. Following her electrifying pull downward, he rested his lips against her flushed cheek. She was radiating strength, exertion, and euphoria as her fingertips grazed his wrist and he grabbed her hand. "You've got this, Elara," he whispered roughly into her ear as she smiled through clenched teeth, his voice sending shocks of empowerment down her spine. Then as she fell back into his chest, his gleaming stare finding hers, a nurse's voice pierced the intimate, enclosing air. "The head is crowning, keep going, Elara." The atmosphere was punctured with her gasps as she bore down, resting her head in the hollow of Max's neck as he held his gaze steady on their child's emerging head. Inhaling as she collapsed her head against his, her resolve faltered for a moment as she whispered, "Max, I can't." "You are, Elara, her head is almost out," Max murmured in a subdued mix of pride and awe. As she refocused , her shoulders shook in his bracing palm as he stroked her back , applying pressure. "Almost there , 'Lara . Almost..." . In a rush of amniotic fluid and blood, their daughter's head emerged along with her left shoulder, but the fight was far from over. "Elara , the umbilical cord needs to be cleared from her neck. I need you to slow things down for me . Don't push. Pant , Elara. Pant." The room stayed engulfed in silence as Elara's hand searched for a solid foundation, anchoring itself in Max's shirt as she trembled against the force of her next contraction. "Max-I-need-" she gasped out between deep pants of desperation , her hold on his shirt whitening her knuckles. "Just focus on my voice , Elara . Pant through it. She's so close." Max encouraged , as the nurse slipped the cord from the child's head and instructed with a calm but assertive tone. "Great job, Elara , now push your baby out. A few nice deep breaths for me. And on three...One. Two... " As the pressure consumed her, Elara delivered one final push, grunting as primal effort raged through her . As the body slid out, and a nurse's hands caught their child, relief washed over Elara's senses and she collapsed deeper onto Max's chest. "You did it, baby, she's here." Max affirmed in a quiet rasp. But the silence of the room stretched on, and their worst fears were confirmed, Elara's panting breaths the only audible sound. "She's not respiring, clear her airways," another voice instructed with an urgent tone, and Elara turned her head towards Max in sheer panic. "What's happening? Our baby - she's?" Just as fear clawed through Max's weathered eyes, a nurse placed her fragile, violet body onto Elara's chest. "The skin-to-skin contact will help her take that first breath. Hold your baby, Elara." Her hands, still shaking, enclosed around her daughter as she rubbed her back, her blue gaze filled with worry. "Come on baby girl, fill those lungs," Max urged, his breath hitching in his throat. "Breathe , Sweetheart, I've got you", Elara pled as she rubbed circles over her daughter's ribcage with her other hand. Then, as they both waited in anticipation, a cry broke out into the air. "Oh thank goodness," Elara laughed through tears as the crying continued, and Max felt the moment stand still, bound in sheer relief, the sound more reassuring than anything he'd heard in a long time. "Hey gorgeous," Max greeted his daughter before pausing, a smile breaking across his face, "what are we going to name her, can't call her 'gorgeous' forever..." Elara laughed with exhaustion, "Max, you know the name we chose, trust you to forget when she actually gets here..." Max quickly responded, jest in his voice, "I did no such thing. Welcome to the world, Lily. A bit sooner than we expected, but you're finally here, huh?" Her crying slowed and under Elara's palm, she found a moment of solace, her tiny lungs regulating her breaths and her cries stopped. Just as Max collapsed his weary arms around Elara, gazing at their slightly premature infant, her breathing slowed to an almost rasping cough, and she was quickly whisked from Elara's hold. "Her pulse is dropping again. Begin resuscitation...blood volume rising., stabilising..." Feeling the weight of the triumph turn to defeat and fear, Max rested his head on Elara's shoulder, "No-" Elara buried her head in the curve of his shoulder, confused and unable to catch her breath after hours of labor, and now her child was unreachable yet again. "Please let her be alright-". Max ran a hand through her damp, unkempt hair , combing strands from her forehead , waiting to hear cries in the distance, but the silence returned , more sinister than before . "Elara, she's stable , but your daughter is being transferred to the neonatal intensive care unit, her heart rate dropped a little low , and we just need to ensure her stability. You can rest a moment than you may see for yourself that she's alright. She's a strong little fighter, Max. You should both be proud. " The nurse rubbed a firm hand over Elara's shaking chest, and nodded at Max with assurance. Embracing Elara , they stayed locked in a shared moment of uncertain resolve. The next hours would be critical , and Elara let her tears fall as Max rested his chin atop Elara's dark hair , sighing as his eyes drifted into the distance. It had been a long, dragging night of insomnia, flashbacks, and a lack of food as Max leaned his spine against the hospital corridor. There, he had set up a temporary vigil, not leaving the hall as he watched her in his peripheral vision. "How could Elara abandon the poor kid? How could she just--" As he ran a calloused hand over his unshaven jaw, Max contemplated the impending call that suffocated his tattered psyche. It was the inevitability encroaching on his raw nerves as his fingers unlocked his phone with trepidation and scrolled for her number. "Elara? I don't know. You discharged yourself; no, I don't care where the hell you are--she can't survive on air. No, but please just tell me what I can do to fix--No, of course I love you. I'm alone in a hospital with our--well, my daughter." The phone went dead in his ear, and he let it backflip into his lap with resignation. Returning to his haphazard array of belongings, he pried open an energy drink, drained it, and then crushed the aluminum under his fingers; the distorted metal absorbed his anguish and dismay. All his disbelief and heartbreak over Elara seemed weightless, meaningless, and forgotten as he heard Lily's almost inaudible whimpers floating in the air. "Right here, Lily, I've got you," his hoarse voice found her, and her fussing stopped in an instant. His softening voice whispered intangible phrases; he half-sang, his deep-throated hum off-balance from his persistent fatigue. A lullaby of his own, off-key, intermingled with her cries, permeated the space between them. "I wish I could pick you up kiddo but rules are rules." His eyes floated shut, and images filled his mind: cowering under creaking stairs as the weight above him lurked closer, his young screams pleading for mercy. "I didn't mean to, Dad--" Suddenly, everything grew colder, then a fierce heat drove through him, making him flinch at the recollection. A boot sailed past his head; then a knife. Falling to his knees, petrified, he soon felt the lurid warmth of urine saturating the tongues of his shoes, filling the perforated leather with liquid. His head hung in shame and degradation. "Max, now I will have to punish you for ruining my floorboards, son." As Max felt a dark shadow encompass his juvenile mind, he cried even harder, shaking like an untethered string. A balloon burst under the thud of a boot, and he yelled in confusion, "Is it because of my birthday party? I didn't want to turn five anyway! I'm sorry..." Max reopened his eyes, back in the present once more, his pulse thudding out of sync with his infant daughter's. Her accelerated heartbeat still seemed steadier than his own. "I'm sorry you'll be in here a while longer. Can't take you home yet. But you're gonna love your own crib. It'll put this humidifier to shame. You just wait and see..." With a heavy weight in his lungs, almost drowning him with the proximity of his flashback, his mind flickered to Elara. Holding the still-crying Lily, determined to soothe her discomfort in the cool night, he could still taste Elara, feel her in his clothes, and it sickened him . As he placed Lily into her contraption of a crib with reluctance, he sank against the wall, exhausted . He had to fight the torrent of frustration that tore through his clenched teeth as he reached for his phone the second time that day. "Pick up, please... Elara? Oh, God, just tell me why--No, I haven't slept; she's in a critical condition. Don't worry about it. I know it's heartbreaking. What, so I'm not going through hell right now? No, please, I'm sorry--" Again, the line died out in the shell of his ear, wrenching a twist of agony through his stomach. Exhaustion gnawed at his brain, and he relented to sleep as it finally proceeded , like a tower of building blocks smashing down upon him. "No, Max, I--it's because I love her that I can't watch her suffer..." Elara's tear-stained blue gaze pierced into his as she stood under the harsh lights of the parking lot. Like a deer in headlights, her frightened expression held an acceptance of fate. Max, reaching out and grabbing her wrist, infused his pleas of incredulity into the closing space between them. "Elara, please, I love you, but I love my child, damn it... And I'll be standing there watching when she takes her last breath. If that's how this ends...so be it. " Elara's torn expression ripped at his heart as he conceded the truth. "Say it, Elara... Just put me out of my misery. Because what is it that we can't work through? What has happened to us? That you'll leave me here with our child?" After a long, wrenching silence, she whispered, "I love you. Nothing is wrong with us, Max, but if I lose her, I won't be the person you fell in love with. I won't even want to know myself. I... I'd rather pretend in my mind she's going to survive this--" He interrupted her, anger and frustration gnawing at him. "What if she survives this? Then what will she have? . This is the definition of selfishness, Elara, and you know that. Just go... This here is what's breaking us." As he lifted his gaze, she was already walking away, her head in her hands. The streetlight flickered out for a moment, and he was swallowed by darkness, sinking as the concrete seemed to embrace him when he fell. His pulse raced to the surface of his throat as he retched himself into stark consciousness, gazing around in sheer panic. He ran a hand over his drawn features. Upon hearing his child's faint breathing--a newfound white noise that salved his frayed nerves--he relaxed against the wall. Six weeks had passed, and Max had been offered respite housing by the hospital, where he had relocated his sparse belongings. The imprint of his spine against the wall had almost been visible when a social worker assigned him a bare-boned apartment with a single bed and central heating. This particular morning, his clothes were fresh, and his face clean-shaven as he entered the NICU and locked eyes with his daughter. "Morning, Gorgeous." The mild rays of morning bled into the room, embracing her in a blanket of warmth, the humidicrib encasing his daughter with a plastic film of isolation. He staggered over to where she lay and lifted her into the air. "My little girl is six weeks old. I swear you're growing bigger every single day." With grit under his nails and darkness pooling under his eyes--an accumulation of the passing days--he beamed at Lily with awe, relief, and pride. Holding Lily in his outstretched arms, the golden light outlined her body, bathing her in an aura of warmth. As he stared into her irises, mesmerized, a gentle smile broke out across her lips, reaching her gaze and filling it with specks of recognition and joy. "You're smiling," he laughed, a surge of pure elation coursing through him. "Of course, you're smiling, because you know I love you, right?" His own deep hazel eyes glazed over, and he was unable to look away. His daughter, in an exuberant moment free from agony, maintained her entrancing grin, and his arms trembled as he lowered her onto his forearm, holding her close. "Your first smile, perhaps? I'll have to ask the nurses... they've taken such phenomenal care of you. You'll be at home before you even know it." Her invigorated breathing, steady and strong against his skin, gave him something palpable to focus on as he lamented the grave reality and cursed under his breath. "I miss her, you know, but I worry about her, too. Maybe someday she'll find her way back to us. But I'll be here for your first word, first step. You're gonna come on jogs with me, huh? Yeah, that's right, you are." Max, beaming with admiration and genuine excitement, felt a weight lift from his shoulders that had almost clung like shrink wrap to his existence. Lily was coming through the ordeal of being born with weak organs, and while she still seemed vulnerable, she shone with fighting spirit. "You've been listening to me blabber on, huh?" Max whispered as her eyes danced with the rays of daylight. "Daddy passed out last night 'cause he was so tired, but I'm here now, and I ain't going anywhere, kiddo." At that moment, she fell asleep in his arms, and his moments were up. He lowered her back down into her protective bubble and sank down into a plastic chair adjacent to where she drifted into sleep. He'd even dressed decently, without noticing, just to visit her, his grey Henley accentuating his dark boots. "Hey, well look at that, you got me dressing up again." He ran his tongue along his teeth, an absent-minded gesture as he smirked in disbelief. Standing up, he smoothed out his jeans and headed for the cafeteria, a raging appetite igniting in his stomach. Soon, his nostrils were affronted with the sizzling aroma of scrambled eggs, bacon rashers, and ground coffee. Overwhelmed by his apparent hunger, he wasted no time heaping his tray to the edges with the enticement of an actual meal. As he began entertaining his newfound hunger by the forkful, a figure slid down into the booth beside him. "Hey, you're that guy with the gorgeous little angel, Max, right?" Caught off guard, he gazed away from his food, drinking in the angular features of a fellow parent he'd met in the halls weeks earlier. "Hey, Sam, yeah, my daughter Lily, she was born with a lot of complications, but she's doing so well; how's your son holding up?" Looking out at the distant footpath beyond the cafeteria, Sam smiled, a hopeful look crossing his gaze. "James will be discharged tomorrow; my wife is packing his things as we speak. Cystic fibrosis is a hard road, but it just means every day is meaningful for us, y'know? Makes you apprecia