||Now It's Just Us||

Chapter 22

The atmosphere in the kitchen was- tense. To start, the kitchen itself was a rather curious one. All the shelves were curved to align with the curved walls. In fact, the room was nearly perfectly circular. A number of curious items were scattered around, such as the teapot shaped like an Occamy egg, several copies of The Quibbler, vials full of shiny, luminescent potions, and a bust of Rowena Ravenclaw with a hand made diadem on her head. Soft snores could be heard from upstairs, accompanied by gentle humming and a faint swiping sound.

The kitchen held two occupants at the moment. One was a blond witch, who was looking intently at the other occupant. Her blue eyes were dull, and her usual airy and dreamy aura no longer radiated from her. She seemed very apprehensive, and miserable. Her lower lip quivered uncontrollably, and a tear slipped from her eye and down her left cheek, staining her pale skin a shade darker. She hurriedly wiped it away. She didn't want to break down before she had even said anything.

The other occupant was not aware of her presence. He couldn't be blamed, really, his wife had been very quiet while climbing down the stairs. He continued to stare out the window while he polished his broom, staring at the stars that dotted the sky. He seemed to be in high spirits, he let off an aura of glee and love. It was a love for someone not yet here, yet it was so strong and pure that anyone around him would smile. Except the blond witch. His composure only added more guilt to her already suffocated lungs.

"Blaise?"

The dark skinned wizard turned around, smiling brightly at his wife. However, on sighting his wife's state, the smile vanished, "Luna, is everything okay? Is it the baby? Are you feeling nauseous, do you need tea?"

Luna took in a shuddering breath. She didn't know what to say. Was it about the baby? It was. It most definitely was. Only she didn't know how to approach the topic. She closed her eyes and wished for herself to be sucked into the earth or disappear. Perhaps the Occamy egg teapot would turn to be an actually egg and the creature would burst forth any moment. Any distraction was welcome. When she opened her eyes, she found him looking at her solemnly.

"Blaise," her face crumpled before his eyes, her hand flew to her mouth and she sobbed without restraint. The teapot remained a teapot.

Blaise was dumbstruck. To see someone who was always herself, strong and whimsical and beautiful and one of her kind, break down like this, was actually terrifying. 

"Luna, what's happened?" Blaise drooped his broom and polish and made his way to her. He enveloped her in his strong arms, and stroked her hair as she cried, whispering sweet nothings and soothing words. Luna fisted the material of his shirt.

"I don't want this, Blaise," Luna said in a voice muffled by his shirt, "I can't."

"What do you mean?" Blaise knitted his eyebrows together, and stopped stroking her hair. The hurt hit her heart with a pang.

"I'm sorry, I- I know that you want this," Luna sobbed, "I know how much you want a family, this child. But I can't, Blaise, not when I'm at the peak of my work, I can't throw all of it away, I can't discard my work and give everything up, it's what I've worked for my entire life, I can't-"

"Stop," Blaise growled, releasing her as though her skin stung him, "stop it. You're being selfish."

Luna pulled away to look up at him. She saw the hurt, the betrayal, etched on every feature of his face. She felt guilt stab at her insides.

"You want to give up our child," Blaise pointed a finger accusingly at her, "so that you can excel in your fucking job. What is more important, Luna? The life of our child, or your work?"

"I'm just not ready, Blaise, why don't you understand?" Luna beseeched, "I'm not ready to start a family and take care of it, I can't give up my childhood dream, why can't you understand that?"