theunpressuredclub | (no subject)

It's so different from the Deck.

The city in which Ophelia has helped her set up has nothing of the suffocating smallness that her home has. Nobody here knows entirely who she is except for the small handful of people the Queen had pointed her in the direction of-- and even they only really know her as a Diamond, not necessarily a Suit-switcher. It's refreshing.

It makes it tempting, almost, for her not to come back, regardless of whether or not she decides to raise the child growing inside her-- a decision she's still struggling to make, this far along. Because yes, while she knows the boy (and it's a boy. Edgar would be thrilled, in other circumstances) would remind her almost constantly of his father, she's also not certain if she doesn't want the reminder. She misses Edgar Eicheln, after all.

But missing him certainly does not mean expecting him to show up at the door of the apartment she's staying in. Thank goodness she looked through the peephole before opening it.

It's tempting to not respond to his knock. But she also knows just how resilient he can be if he thinks there's anything like a chance.

There's a crack in her voice as she calls through the door, "Please leave."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

theunpressuredclub

Her hand comes to rest over his, and it hurts, her breath coming out shaky, but at the same time it solidifies the fact that she's not alone. That no matter what happens, they're going to do this together.

For a few moments, they can just sit in the quiet. Then, the baby shifts and her gaze glances back up to his face to see his reaction.

From:

ofthecubs

He doesn't have clear memories of Max being born, but he does remember Toby. He knows the sensation of having something alive move while hidden from sight like this.

He'll blame the shock, later. He'll blame being dazed and overwhelmed and still deliriously relieved that she's letting him stay. It's just that this is even more intimate than when his mother was pregnant. This is even closer to his heart.

This is their son, even if only by blood. He can't stop himself from smiling, awed and humbled, before remembering that having a son isn't part of the plan.

From:

theunpressuredclub

She can't help but smile back at him, however briefly, however shakily. Her hand stays resting atop his.

"He likes to move around a lot," she murmurs, "'s as restless as you."

From:

ofthecubs

His breath comes out shaky as he ducks his cheek, just briefly, against her stomach. Just to feel a little bit closer.

"When... when we're ready, Rach?" The words are whispered softly against where her stomach swells with the child. "You're... you're gonna be a good mom. I know it."

From:

theunpressuredclub

Her own breath trembles; sounds almost as though she's about to start crying again.

"Y-you really think so, Ed?"

From:

ofthecubs

His smile is small, but for a moment it's completely real, completely without a shadow.

"I know it."

He knows it here and now more than ever.

From:

theunpressuredclub

She manages an equally tiny smile back at him, before her face falls as she glances towards her swollen belly.

Her voice is incredibly quiet as she murmurs, "I... wish it were now."

Wishes she could keep their boy, even with everything.

From:

ofthecubs

For half a second, she's smiling. For half a second, they're just happy. But then reality settles again. Then he remembers that they've both run away from home, that they're unmarried and she's accidentally pregnant and things are barely being pulled back together between them.

His sigh is soft as he squeezes her hand.

"There's already... a family, then?"

From:

theunpressuredclub

She shakes her head just slightly, squeezing his hand back.

"No, not yet. I was-- still looking. There's a couple options."

From:

ofthecubs

It doesn't change how young they are. It doesn't change how underprepared they are. It doesn't change the fact that he's thinking through the haze of shock.

But.

"...oh."

From:

theunpressuredclub

She raises her eyes to him, a look of concern on her face.

"Oh?"

From:

ofthecubs

"Just... something to sleep on, I guess."

Because it wouldn't do to make more promises now. It didn't make sense to try and reason through possibilities she'd already shut out now.

From:

theunpressuredclub

"...We can decide, later."

Whether it was which family would be worthy of taking their child, or whether it was-- just maybe-- if they were to keep him.

From:

ofthecubs

"...yeah."

His lips press firmly to the back of her hand before he lets go, pushes himself carefully up to his feet.

"Let... let me get you something."

Not because he knew where anything was in this apartment. Not because she looked in need of anything.

He just needed to move.

From:

theunpressuredclub

At least she understands that need. At least they've not been so far apart that they don't know each other anymore.

"Water, please?" She needed to rehydrate, with all that crying, and it would help her calm down, "The kitchen's over there. 've got a couple glasses in the cabinet over the sink."

From:

ofthecubs

"Okay." Deep breath in. Slow breath out. "Okay."

He moves to kiss her cheek, but doesn't quite make it. He drops his lips instead, briefly, against her shoulder, and then moves carefully to find the kitchen.

To take some nice, deep gulps of air so that his head stays clear while he brings her some water. Finally, properly sits on the couch.

From:

theunpressuredclub

They can both have a bit mod time to compose themselves better. Let the reality of everything be a little clearer.

"Thank you," she murmurs when he hands her the glass-- but it's clear she's grateful for much more than just the water.

From:

ofthecubs

He can smile, just slightly, now that the panic has subsided a little. He can lean against the couch more fully, watch her more closely; feel more certain that she's here and real.

"Thanks for letting me stay."

From:

theunpressuredclub

"I-- wouldn't've been able to do anything else."

Smiling is still a little rough around the edges, but she's getting better.

"I-- I need you here."

She's needed him here since she left. Because she's been afraid, and he helps her feel stronger. Because this is his son, too.

Because she loves him.

From:

ofthecubs

It helps that she's got a rough little smile. It also hurts to be blindsided slightly by the lingering question again.

"Would... you have asked? If I hadn't-- just showed up?"

From:

theunpressuredclub

It's hard to admit. She has to reach out to him beseechingly to find the strength to, first.

"...No," she admits softly, eyes dropping, "I-- didn't want to intrude."

Not when she'd imagined he'd surely moved on. That he didn't care anymore.

From:

ofthecubs

It's easy, even now, to wrap his fingers tight around hers. It's better when he can shift closer and hold her hand between two of his own.

"...intrude?"

From:

theunpressuredclub

"I figured you'd've moved on by now," she admits, still not quite able to meet his eyes, "Challenged again, or-- found someone else. Your world was-- always so much bigger than just me, Ed."

And she didn't resent him for it. It's something to accept with everyone she cares about. It just also means she thinks them much more capable than she is at carrying on.

From:

ofthecubs

His fingers squeeze again, tighter, less affectionate and more nervous. They're getting out the important things now, after all.

"Won't be anyone else. Not... not like this, you know?"

From:

theunpressuredclub

Her eyes lift to his, finally, when he squeezes her hands. She looks so tentative as she squeezes back.

"Y-you really believe that?"

She doesn't know if she can ask him to promise it. She's almost too afraid of promises, now.