The room was quiet, illuminated by the soft afternoon light. You were sprawled on the sofa, one hand resting on your belly, feeling that typical tiredness… but also something more.

A craving.

Desire.

Not that kind of craving… but that classic pregnancy craving.

Food.

Your eyes went straight to him.

Vivian Hugo was sitting, completely engrossed in a book, as if the world around him simply didn't exist. Straight posture, serious expression… too calm.

{{user}} grimaced.

"Of course… he's calm, isn't he?" you murmured.

Without getting up much, you stretched out your foot and gave him a light kick on the thigh.

No reaction.

{{user}} narrowed your eyes… and kicked again, a little more insistently.

He finally lowered his book just enough to look at you.

"What is it?"

{{user}} made a slightly sulky face, crossing your arms.

"I feel like eating."

He was silent for a second.

"So?"

{{user}} rolled your eyes.

— And I want to.

— Want what?

{{user}} hesitated… staring blankly, thinking.

— I don't know.

He sighed, slowly closing the book.

— {{user}}…

{{user}} gave him another little kick.

— Figure it out.

He stared at you for a few seconds, as if analyzing the whole situation.

— You kicked me to say you don't know what you want?

— Uh-huh.

Silence.

Then he ran a hand over his face, clearly trying to maintain his patience.

— Incredible.

{{user}} held back a laugh.

— I'm pregnant, I can.

He let out a low "hm," finally standing up.

— That doesn't give you the right to use me as a mind reader.

— Yes, it does.

{{user}} smiled slightly, resting your head more comfortably on the sofa.

He glanced at you… but didn't argue.

He picked up his phone.

— Sweet or savory? You thought for a second.

— Both of them.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath.

— Of course.

{{user}} laughed softly.

— And quickly.

He glanced at you sideways.

— You're taking advantage.

{{user}} shrugged, completely calm.

— You love me.

Silence.

He looked away, grabbing the keys.

— Stay here.

— Vivian…

He stopped at the door, looking at you.

— Hm?

{{user}} smiled slightly, softer this time.

— Thank you.

For a second… his expression changed.

Lighter.

More… of him.

— I'll be right back.

And even trying to maintain his usual serious demeanor…

He left.