"No! Please d-don't do tha-"

"Now," He walked closer to her, taking a seat on the corner of her desk. "I have one more question."

Dr. Patel just could not seem to look away from his intimidating gaze, his eyes watching her every move. He ran a hand through his hair, his tongue jutting out of his red lips to dab at them in what looked like anticipation. Her body was betraying her now-it would not move. She was completely frozen in place.

"Did I or did I not, father Moira's child?" His deadly composed voice asked.

Her stomach filled with fear and dread just from his voice-his voice had been so kind all the times she'd spoken to him, and yet it was able to instil her with such fear.

"I-uhh.. yes." She swallowed. "You did."

There was a moment of silence. Dr. Patel was awaiting Harraël's reaction while he was trying to cope with what he'd just been told.

"Let me get this straight," Harraël started, sitting up a little more. "I'm a dad?"

"You are, yes."

"Well, that's just-" His eyes had started to glisten -angry tears, she figured- and his jaw clenched together. She saw his hands tighten into fists. Such a drastic change had taken over him that she felt suddenly very nervous.

Honestly, the poor doctor was expecting him to scream out in anger, like some caveman. To wreak havoc on her office or perhaps even run out and go to the news with his story; to ruin her life forever. He did none of these thing however. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her tiny frame, squeezed her and squealed like a teenage girl who just got asked out by her high school crush.

To say she was confused would be an understatement.

"Holy fúck." He gushed, a single tear escaping his eye. "I'm Ollie's dad!"

He cupped his own cheeks, trying to get his breathing under control and to stop his heart from beating out of his chest. "Holy fúcking shít, I'm a dad!" he repeated. And like that, he was beaming at her, his eyes alit with happiness, excitement evident in his features. He looked so much younger, so much more boyish when he said this. "Thank you, Aanya."

"Wait, sorry, can I call you Aanya?" the smile slipped from his face as he turned to her.

Dr. Patel -or Aanya- nodded 'yes', a little confused by how fast he could switch his mood from beyond livid to rainbows, lollipops and eternal sunshine.

"My apologies for being rude," he continued. "Whether Ollie was mine or not, I had to teach you a lesson either way, this is a serious matter."

Her cheeks immediately flashed bright red, understanding crossing her face. She licked at her lips, obviously grasping why he'd tried scaring her; she deserved it. And she'd definitely learned her lesson. "Oh-It's, uh, fine really. I understand." She cleared her throat. "Although you nearly caused me to have a heart attack."

Harraël chuckled at that, crossing his arms over his chest. "I didn't mean to."

"I know." She smiled shyly. "Like I said, it's fine. I get it."

"Why did you do it?" He asked, silently eyeing her in curiosity.

"Half of your donated cells had died..." She trailed off, trying to look for the right words. "because of a technical failure in the tube coolers -they'd been off for four days straight- so if we didn't find a recipient soon, the chance of fertilizing a female's egg with your semen would be close to non-existent."

Dr. Patel was staring hard at him as she explained this. "A donor's semen is our responsibility, and if it becomes unavailable because of an easily avoidable error, we are forced to get a new sample. Which means either paying the donor big money or go to court if he refuses to do so. It's all in the contract you signed."

"It's only one tube of sperm though, why does it matter so much?" He interjected gently.

"This isn't a grocery store where you're just unlucky if a certain product -or in this case a donor's semen- is out of stock, we have to offer our recipients security. To make them trust us and have a safe pregnancy. We're able to take-in 200 donors a year, any more than that isn't financially possible, especially with all the daily costs and with the economy is taking a bad turn. Everything's on a tight schedule. One misstep, and it could be our downfall."

"So.. what you're saying is that you couldn't afford to lose my donation?" He clarified, sceptically.

"Exactly."

"I understand why this would create problems for you, but it's not like I became a donor for the money in the first place so you should've just consulted me."

Aanya sighed, "No matter what I would've done, it's never the right decision. Nonetheless, I'll take your words into consideration, thank you."

Now that the million dollar question had finally been answered, Harraël wasn't afraid to admit he understood why Dr. Patel had done what she'd done. He was glad with her decision and wouldn't have wanted it any other way. A year ago, he could count the people he cared for on two hands, and now he had two loved ones to add to the list. Moira and Ollie were his family, whether they wanted to be or not. But still, Aanya was lucky to have such strong observation skills; two other arbitrary people -who didn't have the hots for each other- and they would've surely sued her as well as the entire practice.

By then, Aanya had relaxed signifigantly. Her stance no longer resembled a nervous deer caught in the headlights.

"Why did you pick me? For Moira, I mean?" Harraël asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling himself develop a headache from all the sudden commotion.

"I knew how much you both wanted a baby, I thought you'd make a cute couple and perhaps an even cuter baby."

Harraël snorted, not having expected the answer. "Fair enough."

He was quiet for a moment, rendered speechless upon the shocking realization that he'd be going home to his lover and son later on. It was all official now, his suspicions were confirmed. It made him see the world is an entirely different light, which was quite refreshing. It gave his existence a whole new purpose.

Thanking Aanya for her time and for being honest with him, Harraël was about to make his way out her office when something else popped into his head. "Wait." He stopped dead in his tracks. "Would you have ever told if me us hadn't discovered?"

"No." her lips moved on their own accord as she told him the truth, her head hanging in shame.

Knowing the answer to his last question, he shot her another, thankful smile and left.

* * * * * * * * *

A few questions that I desperately need answers on:
1. Do any of you make professional photoshop covers?
2. Do you have any tips on how to write intriguing descriptions? I feel like the description of Daddy Unknown sucks and I want to make it irresistible to not-read.

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