The ride from the hospital to my apartment goes smoothly; Josephine is sitting in the backseat, with Daisy in her car seat next to her. The moment I started the engine, Daisy fell asleep which gave Josephine and I a chance for small talk.

The subjects were mostly limited to what kind of food she likes, how she looks back on her days in the hospital, and in what kind of neighborhood I live. She is curious about that, and I could tell she is nervous too.

After thirty minutes of driving through busy London, we arrive at my apartment. I park mum's car in the parking lot underneath my building, explaining to Josephine how I need to bring it back to my mum later today.

We take the elevator up, me carrying the car seat with a still sleeping Daisy since Josephine can't carry heavy things for a while. During the ride up, we don't talk. Josephine seems to soak up her surroundings, and when the elevator peeps to indicate that we have reached my floor, she jumps as if she was drifted into some very deep thoughts.

I step out of the lift, looking over my shoulder to see if she is following me which she is. When I stand in front of my door, I try to act as nonchalantly as possible so she won't notice how nervous I am.

The door opens, and I step aside as I motion for her to enter first. She reluctantly does, carefully stepping over the threshold while her arms are folded in front of her, her plastic bag hanging on her arm near her elbow through the loop.

"So, to your left is the hallway that leads to the bedrooms and bathroom, to your right is the kitchen and living," I explain, curiously scanning her reaction. I keep my voice low, making sure Daisy won't be disturbed.

She is eyeing everything intently, her expression difficult to read. She seems impressed, but at the same time out of place as she fumbles with the loop of the plastic bag.

"It's so... Homey," she whispers.

Homey. My chest swells as I soak up her first thought of my place. She thinks it's homey, yet she's only seen the entrance. "Come on, I'll show you around."

I once again motion my head, silently asking her to follow me. When I come across the first door, I turn around. "This is my room," I tell her while I open the door to show her. I'm not entirely sure why I open the door, but I guess it's because I want her to know that I want her to feel at home. She's allowed in every room in this house. I don't have anything to hide anyway.

My room is quite simple; a black, kingsize bed frame with mattress on top of it, the sheets greyish-blue. There is a tv hanging on the wall across the bed, and one wall is covered in closets. The walls are painted in a pale, beige tint, and there is a poster of my favorite football team hanging above the bed. It's a basic guy-room, nothing special and very functional, and it has everything I need.

She scans the room briefly and then nods her head. "It looks nice."

I smile and nod in agreement, and then close the door before taking two steps to the next door, which is across from my bedroom.

"This is the bathroom," I state the obvious as I show her the room that entails a walk-in shower that separates by a glass wall and a double washstand. The tiles on the floor are dark grey, almost black while the tiles on the wall are white.

Josephine once again looks around the room before nodding her head. She doesn't say much, but I can tell that's because she is overwhelmed.

I close the door and then show her the toilet, which is just next to the room that we made for her. When it's time to show her, I feel the nerves rise in my throat.

I open the door slowly, my eyes never leaving her to see the first reaction. "And this is where you and Daisy will stay."

The moment she gets a first glance of the room, her eyes widen as she slams her hand in front of her mouth. Unlike when I showed her the previous rooms, she now steps through the door immediately, taking the time to look at every corner intently.

She gasps when she gets a closer look at the baby cot and when I look at what causes her reaction, I see a small, old-pink pajama romper on top of the made bed. I haven't seen it before, so it must've been my mum or Mercy that put it there. It's not Maisie, because the romper still has the tag of the shop attached to it.

Now that I think it over, I did notice how mum came out of the room just before she left. She told me she checked if the window was shut, but now I know the real reason.

Josephine's fingers glide along the cot, her head bowed. I can hear her sob and for the first time, I know it's not because she is sad.

"That's the bed where me and my siblings slept in when we were babies," I tell her when she lingers next to the cot still. "My mum kept it for when one of us has a baby."

I'm not sure why I say the last bit, but saying it out loud does give me a certain feeling. Now, Daisy will sleep in the same cot as I did. Not my own children. Daisy.

Josephine doesn't seem to notice that what I just said makes me think. Her head moves up, her red-stained eyes finding mine. Her cheeks are wet, as is the tip of her nose. "It's beautiful. I can't believe that you did all this."

I shrug it off as if we haven't worked all night to achieve this. I don't want her to feel guilty or bad about that. "It's nothing. I want you and Daisy to have a space that's yours."

She smiles and walks to the dresser, her fingers moving over the wooden pattern, lingering at one of the cabinets. She hesitates, but it's clear that she wants to look.

"Go ahead," I encourage her, knowing she needs my consent to have a go. "Listen, Josephine, for as long as you're here, you can go anywhere you want in this house. And the dresser is yours for as long as you need it."

She smiles shyly and then opens the wooden door, finding a pile of small rompers and sweaters. In response, she gasps while she shakes her head. "Hero, this is too much."

"No, it's not," I disagree, shaking my head frantically to give my words more power. In response, she rolls her eyes which surprises me but pleases me at the same time. "Really, Josephine. It's not," I insist. "It was assured to me that Daisy will need all the clothes on those piles."

She closes the door, not reacting to my attempt to convince her that it isn't too much and it that wasn't a bother at all. Instead, she walks to her bed at sits on the edge. Her hands are folded in her lap, and she is silently taking in the room once again while she wipes her nose with her sleeve.

She looks small, and although I think she has gained a little weight in comparison to the first time I saw her, her trauma is readable on her face and form. She looks broken, and it only fuels my urge to make her stay here as nice and comfortable as possible.

She hides her hands in her sleeves and sniffles, her nose running because of the silent crying. "I don't know what to say or how to thank you. I can't remember the last time I slept in a bed."

Her confession cuts right through me, images of the dirty, thin mattress that she once called her bed flashing through me and causing a wave of nausea. I will kill that motherfucker the first chance I get.

"You don't have to say anything. Just feel at home, okay? That's enough thanks for me."

"Thank you," she whispers once again. I'm amazed by her really. After all she has been through, she is still the most kind and civilized person I've ever met. She doesn't even seem mad for what happened to her.

Soft grunts that come from the car seat tear my attention away from Josephine. I've carried the car seat with me throughout the little tour, and I'm still carrying it now. Daisy is moving inside of it, her little arms up and her hands stretched as she wakes up.

"Looks like she is curious about where she'll stay as well," I smile, trying to break the heavy spell that hangs in the air. Josephine smiles and wipes a few lost tears from her cheeks, using her sleeves once again. She then stands and motions for me to put the car seat on the ground. Once I obliged, she carefully unfastens Daisy's belt and picks her up.

"Do you want to see the rest?" I hopefully ask while I put the car seat in the corner of her room. Josephine then takes a deep breath as if she is pushing all her thoughts away for now. "I'd love to."

"This is really good," Josephine says, her mouth still full with the pasta pesto with chicken I made. It's an easy dish, but she's almost through her first plate and she is eating it with full commitment which would make a chef proud. I have no doubt it's because she's been eating hospital meals for eight days, but it still strokes my ego.

We are sitting at the table, across from each other. Next to her, Daisy is laying in the car seat which is standing on a chair. She is sleeping, but Josephine expects her to wake up for a feeding any minute. There is a relaxed vibe hanging around us which I'm happy about. We haven't talked much, but the silences aren't awkward perse. It felt good actually, also because I think Josephine kind of needed it to get her thoughts together. She seemed overwhelmed by everything, and she had to process everything that happened. Not just today, but everything from the moment she went into labor. Maybe even everything that happened to her before she went into labor as well, even though she also clearly needs help with that part.

She went to her room every time she had to feed Daisy, and she then stayed there for about thirty to forty minutes. I don't mind it, I'm happy that she feels comfortable enough to walk away so she can have time alone. I also understand that she doesn't like the idea of breastfeeding while I'm around, especially now that we are alone.

Overall, I'm happy with how everything went today. I hope she will find the rest she needs around here, and I secretly hope that it will take a while before they will find them another place to stay.

"There's more if you want," I say while pointing to the pan that's standing on the kitchen counter. I made extra, as always, because I sure as hell never have enough after one plate.

As she takes the last bite of her fork, her eyes move from the cooker with the pan on it to me. I can easily tell that she is hesitant about taking another serving; in the short time I've known her, the facial expressions she makes are recognizable. To encourage her, I stand from my chair, my plate in hand, and then hold out my other so she can give me hers as well.

Her cheeks turn slightly pink as she gives me her plate, a small, shy smile playing around her lips. To take her mind off it and to act as if I didn't see any of it, I decide to change the subject.

"So, I have tomorrow off as well," I start as I walk to the kitchen and begin filling the plates once again; a smaller portion for her and a full-blown serving for me. "And I thought maybe we can go buy a tree."

She doesn't react to my suggestion, and when I turn around -two full plates in hand- she is looking at me with a frowned face and knitted eyebrows. "A tree?"

"Yeah," I nod, placing her plate in front of her. "For Christmas. A Christmas tree. Would you like that?"

"Oh!" She says at the same time I see the realization hit in. Her expression then turns to excitement, and I can't help but smile at the sudden eagerness in her eyes. It gives me the answer to my question without hearing her say it. "I forgot about Christmas. You don't mind?"

I shake my head. "No, of course I don't. I don't have one yet because I was busy with work. I was planning on getting one tomorrow anyway."

Lie. I never have a Christmas tree because I'm never here with Christmas. I usually celebrate Christmas Eve with my friends at someone's place -not mine because I don't have a tree and some of the girls in our group hate the idea of celebrating Christmas in a boring, non-Christmas house- and on Christmas Day we're always at mum's. If I don't have to work, that is. Then Newyear's usually is spent in a pub in London, and inbetween those days I work. A tree just seems more of a hassle than a nice thing.

But now that Josephine will spent a lot of her time here, it seems nice to decorate the place a bit. Especially since I'm almost one-hundred percent sure she hasn't celebrated Christmas properly in a long time.

"Then I'd like that very much." She's suddenly very polite -more so than she normally is- as she folds her hands on her lap and shyly smiles at me. For some reason though, her reaction feels like a victory. Both because she agrees on doing something together that contains us going outside and because she dares to give her opinion - even though I made that quite easy for her. I'm also pleased that she seems excited about it.

"Great! I was thinking about going around eleven? Does that work for you? With Daisy's feeding schedule and stuff?"

She swallows the bite she just took, nodding her head in the process. "I think so. It depends how the night goes really."

I nod in understanding. "Well, we'll see. But around that time then."

Josephine smiles once again, and as if Daisy is excited too, she starts squirming in her car seat while she makes soft sounds before she opens her eyes. Watching her wake up is the fucking cutest thing I've ever seen, and every time my heart melts a little more.

Josephine starts eating a little faster with her eyes trained on Daisy, probably because she will start to feel hungry any time soon. Because I'm nearly done with eating and not in a hurry, I stand and walk to the car seat to take Daisy out. I'm doing it without thinking, almost on autopilot, and only when I'm holding her in my arms I realize how forward and bold it might come across on Josephine.

"I'm sorry," I say instantly, expecting to find questioning eyes when I look at her, but instead she looks surprised and a bit confused because I'm apologizing.

"For what?" She hesitantly asks before she wiped her mouth with her sleeve, removing a bit of pesto that dripped on her lower lip.

"For just taking her out of the seat without asking you," I explain. In the meantime, Daisy has found my thumb, and she is clutching it in her small hand while she is looking at my face with wide eyes.

"Oh," Josephine softly responds. "That's okay. It doesn't bother me." She stays silent for a moment, just like me. I'm not sure what to say; it's awkward even though I'm happy she didn't mind my boldness. "Actually," she says after a minute and as if she has thought her next words through carefully. "The past few days I've had a lot of people around me. And a lot of them needed to hold or touch her because she needed to be measured and weighed. I hated it. I hated how they had to hold her. I'm not sure why, because I guess I know that they wouldn't hurt her, but still." She stops talking for a moment to take a sip of her water and then continues. "But when you hold her, I don't have that feeling at all. It's because I know she is safe with you. And I know you won't hurt her." For the first time since she started explaining, she looks at me. "I know you won't hurt us," she adds, her gaze burning and openly honest.

"I won't," I confirm. "And I won't let anyone else hurt you or Daisy either, Jo."

She looks surprised for a second, no doubt because I just called her Jo, but she doesn't comment on it. Instead, she takes another gulp of her water before saying, "I believe you. After everything that you did for us, I don't doubt that."

I let out a relieved sigh. "I'm very happy about that," I tell her honestly.

She nods and smiles but stays quiet. She takes the last bite of her pasta and then stands to bring her plate and glass to the kitchen. When she has returned, she stands next to the table, her hands clasped in front of her as she eyes me and Daisy. "And I think she feels the same as well."

I look down at Daisy, who has fallen asleep again. Her hand is still folded around my thumb, only the strength behind it is gone. Her body is completely limb, and somehow she fits perfectly in my arms. Fuck, I think they both just gave me the most beautiful and meaningful compliment I've ever received.

"Is it okay if I quickly take a shower?" Josephine interrupts my thoughts, her tone shy once more. It's a sharp contrast to how she has just talked to me very openly, and it once again makes me realize that she isn't just a random, normal woman that just had a baby.

"Of course. Take your time. If she wakes up, I'll keep her busy until you're done. Don't worry."

"Thank you," she nods and smiles.

"I left towels in the dresser in your room, and Mercy left you a bunch of clothes in there as well," I inform her, realizing that I didn't tell her that during my tour.

She looks touched once again, this time taking a deep breath as if she's trying to control her emotions. "Thank you," she repeats.

After another "no problem", she leaves the room. Since I don't want to risk waking Daisy by putting her back in the car seat, I decide to clean up later and just chill on the couch until Josephine is done.

I grab the remote of the tv, and then sit on the couch, my legs stretched in front of me on the attached lounge. I lean my back against the cushions, and then very carefully shift Daisy so she is laying on her front, her head on my chest.

It's the position that has become familiar to both of us. Whenever I held her during my visits and she fell asleep in my arms, I'd shift her like this. And she always stretched her arms and legs like a little star, just like right now.

I lay one hand on her back, my thumb moving up and down slowly while I put on the tv with the remote in my other hand. I adjust the volume the moment the tv turns on and then flip to Comedy Central where an episode of How I Met Your Mother is halfway through.

How ironically.

I watch the tv, not paying attention to what's going on since I've never seen an entire episode of the show and have no idea what it's really about. I'm focussing on Daisy more. On how her breathing is steady and somehow relaxing. On how she is so warm and comfy right now, and on how she must trust me because she is out like a light without any care.

It's fucking amazing, and the realization that I'm probably going to have a moment with her just like this, every day now that they live here, brings an enormous smile to my face.

I nuzzle my nose against her soft, brown hair before kissing the top of her head. My mouth lingers against her skin, feeling the need to tell her what I've just told her mother as well, even though she won't understand any of it.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, sweetheart. You and your mummy are safe with me. Always."

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