Dark looked down into Ivy's face, sitting on the hospital bed while Daizi lay back in it, having begrudgingly agreed to not walk around unless it was actually necessary, "I hope she does not grow up to look like my mother," he said, trying desperately to pick out any feature that seemed clearly to belong to one of them. Her skin seemed more similar to his, but her colour hadn't settled into itself yet, and wouldn't for awhile. All he knew for certain was her eyes were like her mother's.
"If she does, she will be the person your mother should have been. Not like how she was. But I don't think she will." Daizi replied, reaching one hand forward to run her fingers down Dark's arm, since it was the most she could reach from her position.
Dark looked away from his daughter and focused on his wife, "How do you know? You do not know what my mother looked like."
"Because that much anger and hate changes a person," She replied softly, "it pinches their face and it seeps out their pours and even if they are models it is in how they walk and how they stand. And she will not have that, so even if she has some of those features in her face, I doubt it will be perceptible."
They were quite then, for awhile, the only sound being a tiny hiccup from their baby. It wasn't how people worked. A vile, vengeful person wasn't so easy to spot. Even though Dark knew this, he still smiled, knowing what Daizi was trying to say. Her own face was crooked and twisted and the loveliest thing he had ever seen (Ivy would have to learn to live with that fact), and he passed their daughter to her before crawling across the bed to lay beside her, and he wrapped her up in his arms and asked, "Are you okay?"
"I don't know," She replied, feeling herself melt into him, "Are you?"
"I do not know."