𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 | 𝟏𝟖+

44 | Fallen

The door to the bedroom opens, and his eyes remain hung low, oblivious.

If he noticed, he'd think I was an intruder. He's certainly not one for letting people into his private spaces. Not even his heart would crack for any other. He confessed that pain and death was all he'd ever known. It was how his father coped with his own loss, and it transgressed into his own wellbeing. It's how his heart grew to be forged by steel and iron.

In the moonlight, I catch the subtle embers glowing from the tip of his cigarette. Those sea blue eyes catch on my figure, and he hesitates. His two oceans become a whirlpool of heartbreak, desire, and need. But just as rapidly as those emotions waved over him, he barricades them up.

He stares, speaking nothing, all while nursing his cigarette.

"Levi let me in," my voice cracks, turning to breath as I finish.

Thomas only analyzes me, his jaw so tight I could slice my finger against it.

"You told me your door was always open," I breathe.

It's the only reason I knew it was okay to return. It took me days to build up the courage to even ask Levi to let me into the apartment.

This place, this world Thomas creates and operates, is built on corruption and blood. Yet, it becomes the only safe haven in New Aberdeen from pressures the world sets on my shoulders. Here, there's a chance to grow. There's a chance to become more.

There's a chance that my child will be more than just a worthless Harradan.

I can't keep my existence on this street away from Thomas. He'll find out one way or another. I can't have him discover about the pregnancy from someone else if I'm to live so close to him. The secret would only last so long. It's better I be the one to tell him, so he can soon forget that our love ever happened.

He breaks from his spot, his footsteps slow like the steadiness of his presence. He towers before me as he combs back a lost blonde strand of my hair, the scent of smoke dancing off his skin.

It's then I avoid his gaze, but he has to know of my child.

"Daffodil," he murmurs as his fingers tangle in my golden hair.

It's better I rip the bandaid off now. I hold on for just a moment longer as I bask in the embers of his affection. Seeing him again evokes all those honeymoon feelings of us when it all started. It was before his darkness crumbled over us and shut us in. Maybe returning to him now was a mistake, because gazing into those blue eyes makes me afraid we'll never be able to reverse what we started long ago.

"I'm pregnant."

I've never seen a man smash out a cigarette so fast.

There's no glow reflecting off his dark blue eyes. It's just his stare. His cold, somber gaze that I'm so desperately trying to read, but he's closed himself off from me.

"It's Cato's," those words seem harder to confess than the pregnancy itself.

Thomas' gaze leaves my own. His heart snaps, and I can feel it break as the air grows heavy.

He paces over to the balcony, swinging the doors wide open as he stands in front of his street, his palms wide on the railing as he braces himself. Every muscle in his body tenses.

He runs a hand through his hair for a moment, frustrated.

He speaks nothing.

"I'm not expecting anything from you," I tell him, or rather, tell his back as he turns himself away. "I have all the help I need for this child, but I can't have everyone lie to you about my existence. This only seemed right that you knew, but I didn't know how to tell you."