Guilt had nothing on Noah Valentine. Guilt couldn't even hope to describe his emotions when he came jumping up the front steps to the lobby and hurtling up the stairs because the elevator was taking too long. They weren't living the life of luxury, but they were together in a tiny, cramped apartment he paid for in more ways than one. His body was screaming in protest at the extra exertion. He was exhausted, too exhausted for this, but he still sprinted to the door and fumbled to get his keys in the lock. Quidditch had lost all of its fun now he had to do it nearly every day and still try to beat the sun home in time to tuck his new baby in at night. He came silently through the door, dropping his duffle bag noiselessly by the welcome mat and slinking off like a shadow to one of the rooms. This door squealed mercilessly, but he peered in hopefully and….
The blonde baby was in her crib, with her thumb in her mouth, tangled in her favorite blanket that would change color with her mood (one of Bonnie's more brilliant ideas and by far the most useful baby shower gift). Now it was a deep blue, which meant she was relaxed. At peace. Sleeping. Noah was too late.
He felt anger wash over him like a warm breeze and he wanted to throw his fist at the doorframe in frustration, but he knew he couldn't. His olive green eyes only swam while he closed the door gently again. He hung his head and pressed his forehead to the door. After what seemed like a long time, a hand touched his shoulder. He looked around to see a groggy Percy rubbing her eye, wearing one of his long t-shirts with her hair all disheveled like she had been sleeping too.
"You'll catch her next time," she whispered. Noah didn't trust himself to do more than nod when she slid her hand in his and toted him off to their room.