“Luckily, you’re in the presence of

“Luckily, you’re in the presence of someone who actually paid attention during the colors unit,” Maia laughed softly, passing Lucas off to Toby and moving to the center of the room. They watched as she took the smaller can of white paint they purchased for the trim and added a tiny amount to the green mixture.

She continued adding small intervals of each color until she was pleased with the outcome - a light shade of mint green.

“Perfect,” Camila whispered. She glanced over at Lauren for approval.

“That’s better than the color I chose in the first place,” Lauren nodded. Camila clapped her hands together in excitement, feeling Lauren place a hand on her shoulder and give it a small squeeze. There was an air of nervous excitement between them, with only two days left until Friday.

-

Lauren couldn’t sleep on Thursday night.

It was the busiest week of her life. Her and Camila had to rush to get everything in check to make sure they got their license. Background checks, doctor’s appointments, and home inspections took up nearly all of their time.

Any other free time they had was dedicated to making sure they had everything they needed. Their kitchen was stock piled with food after two separate grocery trips. The second had been a result of Lauren panicking and running out to the store at 8am to make sure they had absolutely everything they needed.

The entire house had to be childproofed, which was harder than they thought. They didn’t realize how many things they had laying around that could be potentially dangerous.

And finally, the bedroom. Which for some reason, Lauren couldn’t get out of her mind. Along with a million other things. She didn’t realize how much actually went into taking care of a child.

Glancing over at Camila, who had shifted in her sleep and now had one leg halfway off the bed, Lauren realized she wasn’t going to get much sleep if she continued to lay there and let her thoughts race. So instead, the green eyed girl pushed herself out of bed, making sure not to disturb her wife (or Wolf).

She made her way down the hallway and into the art studio, humming softly to herself as she gathered her paints together and dispersed even amounts onto her palette. She grabbed two brushes and tucked one behind each ear. Instead of going to her easel, though, she made her way back across the hallway and into the newly painted bedroom.

Presley’s bedroom was painted the soft mint green color they’d created. In the room now sat a small white toddler bed, along with a matching bookshelf and toy chest. The room had everything that they needed, but Lauren couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.

That’s where Lauren came in.

It just sort of happened. One minute she was standing in front of the wall, and the next, she was dipping her brush into the palette and painting.

Painting helped her think. Lauren wasn’t sure how to explain it, but it just did. It was a step by step process, and somehow she was able to untangle her own thoughts as she did so.

She did a lot of thinking as she painted. The biggest thing on her mind was Presley, though. She put herself in the little girl’s position, trying to envision would it would be like to lose her parents at such a young age and then be in the hands of the state.

It made her angry, in a way. That the child had no control over where she ended up. If Lauren and Camila hadn’t been there, where would she have gone? Lauren didn’t like to think about it. She rarely got angry, but when a child was put at risk, she wouldn’t hesitate to throw a few punches.

And then she thought about her and Camila. Were they going to be good parents? She knew without a doubt that Camila would be. Camila was always putting others in front of herself. Give her a child, and she would immediately protect it. It was as if it were her instinct.

Lauren wondered about herself, though, which she figured every new parent must have done at one point or another. In a day, she would be responsible for another life. She’d be responsible for taking care of a child and teaching her how to be a good person. She and Camila would be the people that shaped someone else’s future. And it terrified her, because she didn’t want to do something wrong.

“Lo…?”

Lauren jumped when she heard a sleepy Camila whisper her name from the doorway. Turning around, she was met with her wife, clad in only a t-shirt and underwear and running a hand through her tousled hair.

“What are you doing?” the smaller girl asked, tilting her head to the side and rubbing her eyes. Lauren shrugged softly.

“Painting,” she pointed to the wall. “And thinking.”

“Painting and thinking,” Camila nodded, repeating Lauren’s words. She padded forwards, yawning and sitting down on the small bed to watch her wife. “Thinking about what?”

Lauren shrugged. “Painting.”

“Painting and thinking about painting,” Camila giggled, shaking her head. “What else?”

Lauren looked over at her wife, giving her a soft smile. “I’m thinking about