Addicted

Chapter 9

∘◦ ⛧ﾐ ◦∘ TW!! ∘◦ ⛧ﾐ ◦∘

⭒Some sensuality

⭒Some swearing

ʚ⊱ Today's is kind of short, but enjoy ⊰ɞ

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When I get home, he's waiting for me, standing in the mouth of the garage, arms outstretched, letting the wind whip around him. When I get out of the car, he kisses me hello. "Ahhhhh, where've you beennnnn," he groans, slipping a hand up my shirt. I giggle. "Puddin, it's only 2:30. The day's only past half over, Darling," I say, flushing as his hands travel.

"Mmm. I know, but it seemed like forever," he mumbles, pulling my car keys out of my hands and tossing them onto the driver's seat, hitching me up onto his waist. He carries me out of the garage, and it almost feels normal until a wave of nausea hits me. "Puddin, stop," I gasp, hand to my stomach.

He freezes immediately. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Are you still sore from last night? What's wrong, Sweetheart? Is something going on? You were acting kind of weird this morning..."

I try to control my breathing. "My stomach hurts," I gulp, hands wrapping around myself. Puddin looks concerned. "Well, did you eat? Or did you forget again?" he asks, steering me towards the kitchen. I nod weakly, deciding not to tell him that his child is in my babymaker.

He brings me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and I eat it quietly, glad that the fetus's hissy fit is probably over. After that, I tell him that I'm tired and want to lay down. He goes with me to our room, and he holds me as I put my head back on his chest. The last traces of queasiness fade.

"Puddin?" I ask, tilting my head up at him. "Yes, Darling?" he says, finger-combing my hair gently. "Do you want Lucy to be an only child? Or no?" I know this is a rather risky question, but I need to know.

He pauses. "I don't know. I've thought about giving her siblings, but I don't know how many I want her to have. It's also your choice. Why? Do you have something to tell me?" he asks, twirling my hair around his fingers. I shake my head, settling back onto him. After a few more minutes of spooning, I fall into a deep, heavy sleep.

An hour or two later, I wake up to Puddin's arms wrapped around me protectively, his head on top of mine. I entertain the idea of getting up, but it's so comfortable here... I close my eyes for a minute, and back into the land of the dreams I slip.

I'm at a carnival. All the noises and rides and smells and people are fun and everything, until all of a sudden, it's not. Then, a little blond boy looks at me. He has pale skin and green eyes, just like Jack... The clamoring senses of everything fades away as he stares at me solemnly.

I kneel down. "Do I know you?" I ask, looking into his eyes. "Do you know me?" I ask. He reaches for my hand. "Are you- are you my son?" I ask, voice quivering. He smiles, and at that moment, I know it for sure. I don't need to wait for the gender test, I don't need to worry about the pictures being wrong.

I'm going to have a son.

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