(18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT)
"I'm good at other things too, sweetheart," His voice was gruff and husky, my lips unconsciously parting in a daze. He's standing dangerously close to me, trapping me between him and my cupboards. The tension is suffocating an...
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a month earlier...
The cracked window brought a breeze into our master bathroom, capturing the white, cotton curtains and relieving the thick stuffiness. I'd always found peace and serenity with the natural air, savoring the fresh fragrance it supplied. When I was a teen, I would prop my window open to its entirety, loving the sounds of the trees rustling and the wind whistling. My mother would barge in all the time, scolding, "you better close that window, because you're making the house cold!"
I would oblige with a sigh, pressing my polished nails against the white border, shoving it downward.
The calming breeze was especially favorable to this incident, knowing I had this tedious, unsettling feeling in my stomach. My head felt so light headed this day, it could be compared to walking on clouds and seeing those flashing stars in your vision. It was obstructing and displeasing, leaving me to squeeze my eyes and inhale a breath.
I had to cancel on a client because of this.
My period was always punctual, occuring during the same time range and for the equivalent duration. It was coherent that if it ever strayed from the ordinary, there was definitely something wrong--or growing should I dare say.
The perturbation was streaming through my blood, bringing my body to a mere quiver as the plastic laid on the counter, soaked in my urine. I was two weeks late, something that has never occured during my time of maturity.
My breathing deepened as I abruptly stood up from my toilet, finding my reflection staring back at me in the mirror. Could I really bare a child at twenty-two? Was I even fit to care and tend a child when I was so young myself? I wasn't even a hundred percent sure if Will was prepared to be a father, though, he did hold nine years my senior.
I briefly turned the metal faucet on, watching the stream of water spill out as I cupped it in my hands. It was refreshing against my burning face, relieving some of the tension I held between my eyebrows. There was no definite way to tranquilize or steady the heavy breathing. Therefore, I promptly dried my face off, and sucked in a deep breath, pressing my soothing hand against my forehead.
With a swift glance towards the tiny screen, there were two prominent lines staining the screen, bringing my eyes to a full circle. My heart began to beat roughly against my chest and obstructing my way of breathing. My feet subconsciously brought me to the porcelain toilet, acting as a crutch to keep me from fainting. My jittery hands clutched the little pregnancy test, feeling the tears threatening to spill from my eyes.
"I'm pregnant?" I whispered quietly to myself, trying to receive a feeling of actuality.
The thought of having a literal human being growing inside of me was both implicitly terrifying and beautiful. I'd always possessed the natural adoration of children, yearning that someday I would have a lovely, elegant offspring that held that favorable innocence in their eyes. However, my plan and outlook on life did not include the insemination of my ovaries at this time, no. But also, it didn't hold the vows of my wedding nor my career path I chose for myself.
