Well, this... this was definitely not good. This was not fucking good. He could feel his heart beating fast and his ears buzzing, even though he tried to keep his head cool and his expression composed. He didn't want to stress you out any more, but when it was the umpteenth day you'd thrown up in the morning and your days were nowhere in sight, he couldn't ignore it any longer. Although... he'd prefer it that way. Pretend nothing's wrong.

He waited quietly while you did God knows what on that stupid john. He just wish you'd come out and he'd know what he's on. Maybe... maybe you just ate something bad. He'd love to be swayed by that naive notion. But he wasn't an idiot, and he knew that babies don't come from a stork. At least not in this part of the world.

It only took one look at his face to know he was wrong. He wasn't ready to be a father, and you weren't ready to be a mother. Well maybe... you were ready already, but he just didn't want to admit it because of the overwhelming fear inside him.

"Now what," he rasped. Maybe someday you'll be a happy lil' family with a cute lil' brat, but it definitely won't be now.