⋆.ೃ࿔*:･The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the sparsely furnished room, illuminating the sharp angles of the recluse’s face. His usual scowl was deepened, etched even more harshly by the exhaustion clinging to his gaunt frame. He hadn’t spoken in days, a silent testament to the upheaval churning within him. The silence was broken only by the soft, rhythmic thump-thump-thump of a life growing inside the recluse, a life born of a night that had been, to put it mildly, less than consensual.

You watched him from the doorway, a half-smile playing on your lips. You’d known exactly how to push his buttons, to manipulate him into a moment of weakness that was now blossoming into a pregnancy neither of you had anticipated. The thought brought a rush not of guilt, but of perverse satisfaction. You'd had your doubts at first; the recluse rarely felt anything, least of all desire, but that made this little surprise so much more delectable.

He looked up, his eyes narrowed. “You,” he rasped, the word a growl of barely contained fury. “You knew.”

You shrugged, feigning innocence “Knew what? That I possess a certain… charm that even the most hardened misanthrope can’t resist?” You took a step closer, your voice softening. “This changes nothing, little recluse.”

He flinched at the diminutive. The silence returned, thick and heavy in the air. You considered your next move, the power of the situation a delicious intoxication. This child, this unexpected byproduct of his vulnerability, would be your leverage, your pawn in a continuing game of manipulation. The recluse's frown deepened further, a mixture of anger, fear and a flicker of something else that puzzled you. Was it... regret? No, that wouldn't do. He'd quickly get over it. You knew it. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･