Intersex (Mpreg) [COMPLETE]

Chapter 35.

I huddled under the covers, holding myself for warmth and comfort. I felt alone, watching the walls of my room. I never liked the ceiling in this room. With its dark wooden boards and the awkward, dirty corners it reminded me more of a floor than a ceiling. Hooks from old hanging furniture poked out of it screwed tightly and crookedly by the previous owner's unsteady hands. While the landlord described her as having many plants to clear the air as well as an indoor hammock instead of a couch, to me she just sounded like a wannabe yoga instructor who only ate raw organic food and drank cucumber water from glass bottles.

Surprisingly, Brian and his friends didn't start blasting music until around ten. Usually, they'd start playing music no more than an hour after they started smoking so either they had forgotten to or they had thought I was sleeping but instead forgotten about me. Their song choice wasn't very surprising. The song started quietly, slowly having the violin get louder as the drums tapped to the beat and short moments later the sound of the accordion and the tambourine filled our apartment. They sang along to the 1990 song as if it was the national anthem, going all out and taking turns to sing one like each. It was far too coordinated not to be practised beforehand.

"Even old New York was once New Amsterdam..." I heard Brian sing passionately with one of his friends. He wasn't the worst singer, he could hold a note, his voice just happened to sound like a howling wolf; not awful but certainly not the most pleasant sound.

I had three options. 1. Go out to the living room and telling them to turn the music down. The problem with that was that I was already annoyed and I would probably end up yelling at them as well as revealing my bump. 2. Stay put in my room and bite my tongue. Problem: I would get even more annoyed and at some point explode and end up yelling at them anyway. 3. Escape to Jayden's place where he and Kennedy were doing who knows what. Problem: they'd get yelled at for almost everything they did and I didn't want to be rude to them. If I left I also wouldn't get to have a brotherly talk with Brian when his friends left. But judging by the music and their happy singing, that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon.

Standing up in my briefs and the tight t-shirt that once hung loosely over my torso, I snuck across the room, naked feet patting over the floorboards. Having chosen to ask Brian and his friends to turn the music down, I draped a hooded cardigan over my shoulders and pulled it over my stomach as best as I could. The door handle was cold to the touch as I pushed the door open and stepped out into the warm apartment.

"Brian!" I called out, trying to sound as nice as possible despite the anger growing inside me as they sang along to 'Istanbul' by They might be giants. "Brian, please turn the music down!"

I didn't notice it right away but soon after turning the corner to the living room, the stench hit me. It physically knocked me back as I covered my mouth and nose in an attempt to block out the smell of the weed they were smoking just an arms-length in front of me. Even before I was pregnant, I'd been sensitive and nauseated by the scent of weed. I could've never imagined just how much that nausea would intensify. My throat contracted as my stomach turned. Dizziness overwhelmed me and I suddenly found myself propped myself up against the archway, letting it support my weight as I held my hand over my nose while I tried to take deep breaths through my mouth, blocking out the nausea. Despite my effort, it didn't take long until I instinctively rushed to the toilet while Brian called my name worryingly behind me.

The toilet porcelain lid made a distinctive clinking noise when it hit the porcelain tank behind it. It had been a while since I last sat in front of the toilet. My breathing echoed in the toilet bowl as I took deep breaths, trying to relax while waiting for the vomit to choke me. Clearly, staying in my room would've been the smarter choice.

"Micah, are you okay?!" Brian huffed in the doorway.

I clenched the toilet seat. "Get out!" I yelled into the bowl, feeling the uncomfortable twisting in my stomach as my throat filled with bile. My half-digested ramen spilt into the water, splashing to the sides and causing goosebumps to poke out from my skin in discomfort and disgust. I could taste the broth mixed with bile acid in my mouth.