~The end~
He jogs to it and spends minutes reading the papers over and over again. I stand there, watching him, and waiting for his reaction.
He switched to stare at the ultrasound of a small life. A life he and I created.
“So?” I ask carefully. “What do you think?”
“You’re pregnant.” He stares between me and the ultrasound as if to make sure.
“Yes, Aiden.” I cradle my stomach. “I’m carrying your baby.”
“You’re carrying my baby,” he repeats, slowly approaching me.
When he’s within touching distance, I take his hand and place it on my stomach.
It’s still flat, but I can feel the life humming inside me. I can already feel the connection.
He stares at his hand and slowly strokes my stomach.
“We created a life, Aiden,” I murmur. “Are you happy?”
He rips his gaze from my stomach to meet my eyes. “Are you?”
“I’m over the moon. This is the best gift you could’ve given me.” I press my lips to his. “I love you.”
He wraps his arms around me and I squeal as he lifts me off the ground and hugs me. My arms wind around him as he kisses my mouth, my cheeks, my nose, and my forehead.
“You’re the best gift I’ve ever been given, my queen.”
“And you’re mine, my king.”
I was blown up while we were eating cheese.
“What else do you want, sweetheart?”
I’m distracted by the perfection of his cock and the tautness of his abs. Those hard, powerful muscles of his arms and thighs can snap me in two if he chooses to.
Maybe I would’ve believed that a few months ago, but not now. I trust Aiden now.
I trust he won’t hurt me.
I trust he’ll bring the world to its knees for me.
“I want to be your queen.”
“You already are.”
On all sides I see your waist of fog,
and your silence hunts down my afflicted hours;
my kisses anchor, and my moist desire nests
in you with your arms of transparent stone.
"you’re hurt," he said to the bundle of wet clothes. it wasn't the arms crossed tightly over the form's chest that gave it away, or the dark stain on one sleeve, darker even than the rain, or the way the figure pulled back sharply when he reached out a hand. victor smelled pain the way a wolf smelled blood. tuned to it.
victor knew pain too well to be fooled by the defiant look.
Аh Serenissa, from our arms
Did you for death's preserve your charms;
From us that served so long in vain,
Shall heaven so soon the prize obtain?
Sickness, its courtship, makes the fair
As pale as her own lovers are.
Sure you, the goddess we adore,
Who all celestial seemed before,
While vows and service nothing gained,
Which, were you woman, had obtained;
At last in pity, for our sake,
Descend in human form to take,
And by this sickness choose to tell
You are not now invincible.
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