Chapter 95: Never Satisfied

Ren had eaten three full meals by midday, considerably more than his usual appetite, and found himself, barely an hour after finishing the last one, standing in front of the kitchen staff’s prep station with a hunger so sharp and insistent it bordered on genuine desperation.

“Another serving, please,” he said, something sheepish in his tone despite the sheer, undeniable need driving the request. “Actually, maybe two.”

The kitchen attendant, long since accustomed to Ren’s recently escalating appetite, simply nodded without comment, already preparing another generous portion of the spiced root dish Ren had apparently decided was his current obsession.

He found Yegard in the common area a short while later, the enormous plate balanced carefully against his rounded stomach, and settled beside him with a contented sigh that lasted only as long as it took to finish the first few bites.

“That’s your fourth meal today,” Yegard observed, something fond and faintly amused cutting through his evident concern.

“I know,” Ren said, not remotely apologetic about it. “I don’t understand it. I eat, and I feel full for maybe twenty minutes, and then it’s like none of it happened at all.”

“Perhaps the twins have opinions about their own nutrition,” Yegard said, something warm settling into his voice as he reached over, resting a gentle hand against Ren’s stomach.

“If that’s true, they’re remarkably demanding,” Ren said, though genuine affection colored the complaint entirely.

Vance, consulted properly about the escalating appetite during his next routine examination, offered considerably more reassurance than concern.

“Given you’re carrying twins, and given both children appear to be developing unusually strong, active energy signatures even this early, elevated caloric need actually makes considerable physiological sense,” she explained, reviewing his latest scan results with evident satisfaction. “Your body is working considerably harder than a typical single pregnancy would demand.”

“So this is just going to keep happening,” Ren said, something resigned but relieved in his tone.

“Likely, yes, particularly as the pregnancy progresses further,” Vance confirmed. “I’d recommend simply eating whenever you’re genuinely hungry, rather than trying to restrict yourself to standard meal schedules. Your body knows what it needs right now better than any conventional structure would.”

Ren left the examination feeling considerably more at peace with his own apparently bottomless appetite, and spent the remainder of the afternoon testing exactly how thoroughly he could put that medical permission to practical use.

Finn, delighted by the development, appointed himself Ren’s official snack coordinator, proudly delivering an increasingly elaborate parade of treats from the kitchen throughout the afternoon.

“I brought you the purple fruit,” Finn announced, presenting a small bowl with evident ceremony. “And the sweet bread. And I asked the kitchen lady if there was anything with extra cheese, because you said yesterday you really wanted something with extra cheese.”

Ren accepted the offerings with genuine, overwhelmed gratitude, already working through the fruit despite having finished a full meal less than an hour earlier. “You’re taking this job very seriously,” he observed, something fond and amused in his voice.

“Someone has to,” Finn said, with the solemn gravity of a child who genuinely believed himself essential to the household’s proper functioning. “The babies need to eat too, even if they’re still inside you.”

Milo, watching the exchange from across the room with his usual dry amusement, finally spoke up. “I think you’ve officially eaten more today than Yegard and Reven combined,” he observed, something teasing in his tone.

“The babies are hungry,” Ren said, with as much dignity as he could muster while simultaneously reaching for another bite of the sweet bread Finn had delivered. “I’m simply responding to legitimate biological need.”

“Legitimate biological need for an entire kitchen’s worth of food,” Milo said, though genuine warmth underlay the teasing.

Reven arrived partway through the afternoon’s ongoing feast, having just concluded a lengthy security briefing, and paused in the doorway, taking in the scene with evident, barely contained delight.

“Should I be concerned the kitchen might actually run short of supplies,” he asked, settling beside Ren with careful affection despite his teasing tone.

“Vance says it’s completely normal,” Ren said, somewhat defensively despite his own genuine amusement at the situation. “Apparently the twins have unusually demanding energy requirements.”

“I believe it,” Reven said, something warm and genuinely fascinated in his observation as he rested a gentle hand against Ren’s stomach alongside Yegard’s own. “Strong, demanding, already asserting themselves before they’ve even properly arrived. I suspect that’s a trait they’ll carry well into childhood.”

“Wonderful,” Ren said, something dry but genuinely fond in his tone. “I’m thrilled to already know our children are going to be impossibly stubborn.”

“You’ll manage beautifully,” Yegard said, something gently teasing in his own contribution. “You’ve certainly had considerable practice handling stubborn, demanding personalities.”

Ren swatted lightly at his arm, though genuine laughter escaped him despite his attempted offense. “I’m going to remember that comment,” he said, “right up until the moment I need you to fetch me something at three in the morning, at which point I expect full, uncomplaining cooperation.”

“Already prepared for exactly that eventuality,” Yegard said, something genuinely sincere cutting through his teasing. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

The evening wound down with considerably more peace than their recent weeks had typically allowed, the day’s escalating hunger eventually settling into something more manageable as evening properly arrived, and Ren found himself, settled comfortably between both men with Milo and Finn nearby, genuinely grateful for the simple, uncomplicated warmth of the moment despite everything else still weighing on their broader situation.

“Can I ask you both something,” Ren said, once the evening had properly settled into quiet comfort.

“Anything,” Reven said immediately.

“Do you think they’ll actually be like me,” Ren asked, something more vulnerable entering his tone despite the earlier levity. “The twins. Dual classification, unprecedented in every way. Do you think that’s going to make their lives as complicated as mine’s been?”

Yegard’s hand found his, steady and warm. “Perhaps,” he admitted honestly. “But they’ll also have something you didn’t initially have. A family who already understands what that complexity actually means, prepared from the very beginning to support and protect them properly.”

“And considerable love,” Reven added, something fiercely certain in his tone. “Whatever challenges their unprecedented nature presents, they’ll never once doubt how completely they’re loved and wanted, exactly as they are.”

Ren felt genuine warmth settle through his earlier vulnerability at that firm, loving reassurance. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “For that promise.”

They sat together a while longer, the evening settling into genuine, peaceful comfort, and Ren found himself, despite the ongoing uncertainty of the hidden enemy still circling somewhere beyond their understanding, genuinely grateful for this simple, precious evening, his stomach finally, properly satisfied, his heart full with the family he’d built against every impossible odd this strange, extraordinary second life kept presenting him.

Finn, curled sleepily against his side, mumbled something about bringing more snacks tomorrow, and Ren laughed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of the boy’s head. “I think we’ll manage without quite that much tomorrow,” he said fondly, though he suspected, given the twins’ evident appetite, Finn’s self-appointed role might prove considerably more necessary than he currently anticipated.