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𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭
"𝐘/𝐍, 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔?"
The teen looked up as she finished making the bed. The soft sheets slipped from her hands as she turned to the silver-eyed man. She frowned at the angered look on her young husband’s face.
“He’s playing outside,” She said. “Why? What do you want with him?” She followed his movements as he walked outside in search of the boy.
“I want to have a word with him,” Rokuro said.
“Let him play,” She said, grabbing his arm. “He’s been cooped up the last few days with his cold. He’s better now, so let him be.”
He snatched his arm back and spun to face her. “He’s better now, so he’ll start training again.”
“He’s four!” She snapped, shoving the man away from the door. “You will leave him alone! He’s not a weapon, he’s a child!”
“You whore, get out of my way!” He snapped back with anger. Y/n grabbed the door and held it closed, a serpent pulling from the shadows and slid through her grasp.
“Call me names all you want. They don’t hurt my feelings,” She chuckled. “But you aren’t getting to my child.”
Rokuro glared at her but dared not to do anything further. He knew if he did, he might never see another day, or he’d never see the boy again. He scoffed before turning and walking away. Y/n then slid the door open and walked out, making sure a line of snakes blocked the way.
“Isamu,” She called. The boy perked up at hearing his mother’s voice and ran towards her.
“Hi, mommy!” He said, holding a dandelion out to her. “I got you this!”
“How sweet!” She crouched down, plucking the flower from the boy's hands. She brushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ear. “How do I look?”
“Pretty!” He said, wrapping his arms around her neck. Y/n rose, lifting the boy in her arms.
“Isamu, do mommy a favor, and stay by me, okay?” She said, raking through his h/c hair. He giggled and nuzzled into her shoulder, laying his head there as he played with her necklace.
“Okay,” He said. She smiled softly and walked towards the flower bed the servants had planted. She sat near it, resting her head on top of her son’s.
“Mommy...is Daddy going to hurt me?”
She tensed up at the question, circling her arms around the boy tighter. “No. I would never let him.”
