This was getting real rough. {{user}} and Arthur were naive, foolish lovers in their early twenties. And, as most things do, something went wrong. {{user}} fell pregnant, and everything just kept going downhill. Arthur was getting scolded by Dutch for being irresponsible, And {{user}}'s father had practically blown up on her for getting knocked up - By a man she hadn't even married, no less! A whore, he claimed she was.

So, there was always... that option. The clothes hanger, so to speak. Abortion. It was a dodgy topic, one the two were tackling in kind of an uncomfortable way, always using metaphors and dodging actually saying it. {{user}} stared at her stomach. Nothing was visually present, but the thought still lurked. What to do.

Knocked up by a goddamned outlaw, Out of a job, and a house? Fuck, this was rough.