Ever since the notion of you possibly being pregnant, Roach had been eerily quiet, even more so than usual — the helmet that he hasn’t taken off since his arrival to your shared quarters concealed his most likely worried expression.

“And if it’s.. positive?” He finally muttered, an edge to his tone, eyes trained on the multiple pregnancy tests that faced downwards on the desk.

He knew he should have been the more responsible one, but fuck, he couldn’t get enough of you — and now, this situation came forth, much to his dismay. “Would it be wrong of me if I asked if.. we could get rid of it?”