November - Nesting
“Pearl?”
“Over here, honey.”
Marina blinks, turning to look at the other side of the room, where Pearl has seemingly stripped the desk of all of its items to wipe down the wooden surface of it.
“What are you doing?”
“Cleaning. The room’s dirty.”
Again, Marina blinks, confused. She puts on her glasses and (with a soft grunt of effort) pulls herself into a sitting position. Pearl continues to scrub with her little rag and cleaner, determined to do… something.
“Cleaning?”
“Yeah. Cause I haven’t cleaned in a bit.”
“The room isn’t very dirty.”
“I know. But I wanna clean it anyway.”
Pearl shrugs and smiles at Marina, while she looks something up on her phone.
“Nesting in squidlings—“
“I’m not nesting,” Pearl interrupts.
“… presents as an instinctual need and subconscious desire to have a clean space, even if the space has already been cleaned,” Marina finishes after a small pause, looking at Pearl expectantly.
“I decided to clean, though. That isn’t nesting. Like, if I was nesting I wouldn’t remember getting up and deciding to clean. I would just be cleaning. Because the room’s dirty, see.”
Marina chuckles (“don’t laugh!”) and tilts her head.
“You woke up… and then decided to clean as soon as you left the bed.”
“Yeah. What’s weird about that?”
“Pearl, I’m due next month.”
“I know.”
“… That doesn’t raise any eyebrows from you.”
“No. Nesting is what you did to our bed. I’m not nesting.”
Pearl returns the computer monitor to its spot from the floor (wait, when did she move it?) and starts wiping it down too. Marina playfully rolls her eyes and scrolls further down the article she opened.
“The space around the pregnant inkling or their partner if said partner is an octoling is placed under close scr-… screw-tinny? Scrutiny?”
“You said it right, Marina,” Pearl grumbles. She doesn’t make her wife stop reading.
“Uh- under close scrutiny, especially near the date the clutch is due to be laid. I think you’re nesting.”
Pearl blinks- she’s moved on to the keyboard now, though the soft clacking stops while she pauses and looks at Marina, befuddled.
“Well that can’t be right. Dad n’ Papa didn’t do that.”
“Because you’re adopted, honey. They had no reason to.”
Marina backs out of the first article, then opens another, scrolling idly through it while Pearl finishes cleaning every item on the desk and moves to the bookshelf in the corner. Meticulously, more meticulous than she’s ever been, Pearl begins to remove every book, stack them in exactly the order Marina had them in, and dust every side of the shelf.
In her best Pearl impression, Marina chimes “I’m not nestin’!” and makes herself laugh; “You’re adorable, Pearlie.”
“I’m really not.”
“Not cute?”
“Not nesting.”
“Tell yourself that. You’re putting my books back exactly the way I had them.”
“Because I love you and I pay attention and I know how you like your books.”
Pearl seems to hesitate for a second before she pulls herself from the bookshelf to give Marina a hug and a kiss- then, instantly, she’s distracted by the messy pillows and blankets. She catches herself as soon as she starts and puts her head on Marina’s belly with a defeated sigh.
“Fuuuck.”
“I told you,” Marina teases, “You’re nesting. I don’t mind, though. You’re cute when you worry about me.”
“Well, I mean…”
“No, I understand. I just think it’s cute.”
Marina places her hand on the back of Pearl’s head and leans over slightly to kiss her tentacles.
“It’s hard to reach you from there.”
“Sorry.”
Pearl climbs up next to her wife and hugs her, allowing Marina to cover her face in kisses.
“I’ll let you keep working, honey. Little busy bee.”
The bedroom returns to quiet, Marina watching Pearl flutter around and make sure the room is free of dust or dirt or crumbs on the desk.
She blinks at the bed at some point midway through brushing said crumbs into the trash can.
“I don’t want to rebuild my nest, Pearlie.”
“Crumbs in ‘em.”
“I know, but I worked hard. I’ll just brush them off or use the vacuum.”
“Okay.”
Pearl eventually returns to the bed, once more fidgeting with the blankets to make them as neat as possible. Marina doesn’t waste any time in pulling her close and hugging her tight.
“I do appreciate the room being clean, Pearlie. It looks nice.”
“Knowing both of us, though…”
“Yeah, it won’t last a week.”