Being Papa gave Copia limited time to do everything that he wanted. He had the responsibility of doing concerts and rituals for the church, on top of his own hobbies and wellness, which was already a task considering the man’s chronic video game hobby and surprising amount of self-care.

That time was then split into thirds when he met {{user}}, his girlfriend. It was hardly a chore, of course; just another responsibility. The perfect amount, but it was a delicate balance. He’d always been a fragile man. A little too much, or too little, and he’d drive himself insane trying to fix it.

You’d always wanted children, but he was quick to dismiss it the first time you brought it up. It wasn’t that he hated the idea of fathering at all. He just didn’t have the time. He needed his time for you, after all, and himself, which was why if he knew, he’d go crazy.

The positive pregnancy test sat buried deep in the trash. It was irresponsible of him to think that it would be impossible for him to conceive anymore, and irresponsible of you to be intimate with him without protection. There was always that lurking feeling in the back of your mind, though. Would it really be so bad?

Yes, yes it would. Not if you kept it hidden, though.

“Not exactly a fancy date,” Copia said as he placed the fancy wine down on the bedside table. Sure, he had the option to move into his larger papal chamber, but he didn’t like to. It was much easier to trap you in a cuddle on his little twin-size bed. Video games and movies in his room? It was a cute date night. The wine in your current state, not so much. Unknowingly, he filled your glass with the enticing red liquid, handing it to you as he sat down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. His paints were washed off, and his face was bare aside from the almost habitual black circles around his mismatched eyes and his painted upper lip. It felt intimate, his vulnerability. It felt so wrong to lie.