Burn the truth (ENG)

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When I woke up the next morning I felt cuddly, content and warm which made me snuggle further into my pillow.

But when I woke up a little more, I realized that the pillow was moving and warmer than usual.

I opened my eyes and saw a bare chest.

I blinked to clear my view and lifted my head slightly to see Imran's head above mine.  His head tilted towards me, after resting his cheek against the top of my head.

He had a full beard that clearly needed trimming.  The bags under his eyes could be seen from afar and his curls were tousled.

Suddenly, I watched the rest of my body and knew I couldn't move without waking him up.

Imran had rolled up my top revealing my bare waist.

Our legs were intertwined, his hand resting on my outstretched stomach.

When I felt his fingers carefully run over the skin of my stomach, I swallowed.

Memories of last night flew by and I felt my heartbeat quicken.

What are you doing, Zara?

I shook off the thoughts and pushed his hands off me and sat down on the bed.

Last night was a mistake.

Last night shouldn't have happened.

"Zara?"  came Imran's sleepy voice.  I heard him push the covers aside and get up.

I pressed my nails into the mattress.

What was wrong with me?

I saw Imran squatting in front of me out of the corner of my eye.  When I saw him place his hands on my legs, I moved away from him.

A frown formed between his eyebrows.  "Zara?"

"Imran, last night was a mistake."  I swallowed the lump in my throat and hardened my gaze.  "I haven't forgive you."

Disappointment, appeared in his eyes.  "Oh."

When I suddenly felt a kick in my stomach, I let out a shivering sigh.

Imran shot forward in concern.  "What is it?"

I closed my eyes and let out a sigh.  "It- it's the baby."

His eyes rolled over my stomach and he looked at me again with hesitation.  "Uh, may- may I.."

I swallowed a chunk and nodded.  He brought his hand gently to my stomach and I hissed as his cold hand made contact with my skin.

He looked at me with panic in my eyes, thinking he had done something wrong.  I shook my head reassuringly.  "Your hands are cold."

I ignored the big kicks that caused painful stabs and kept my focus on Imran.

He stared in admiration at my stretched stomach as he felt kicks under his hand.  His eyes glittered lovingly as he looked back at me.  "He's active."

I pressed my fingernails against my palm and there was another kick and nodded.  "It's your son, after all."

I gasped at the feeling of several kicks in a row, worse than the stings before.  "Shit."

Imran leaned over to me with concern.  "Hey, are you okay?"

"I don't know why he's in a kicking mood today," I muttered with a sore face and let out a little breath.

"He's definitely hungry."  He withdrew his hand and stood up.  "I'll make some food soon."

I rolled my eyes, but just nodded.