crescent [h.s]

2

Aurora Adler

I just stare at him.

For some reason, I can't stop.

He's holding me by my forearms and he clears his throat, causing me to snap out of my daze.

Jesus christ Aurora, get it together.

"Hi, sorry. Aurora, it's really nice to meet you." I introduce myself and sit down, silently cursing myself for being so goddamn embarrassing.

Who gets so starstruck, by a man who she hasn't even had a conversation with?

Stupid fucking pregnancy hormones.

I feel so nauseous, every second of every day, and sex is literally the last thing on my mind, but fuck me.

"No worries," he chuckles, "how's your day been Aurora?"

"It's certainly been interesting, I, uh, I'm a painter, I actually sold my largest piece yet today." I smile, my nerves being sky fucking high.

"Wow! That's amazing. Congratulations. C'mon let's get a celebratory drink." He sounds so genuine, something I am not used to.

He, politely, calls the waiter over, "Please can we get a bottle of sparkling grape juice. That's completely alcohol free, right?" He emphasises 'completely' and that does some things to my entire body.

Oh my fucking ovaries.

"Yes of course. And yes, children can drink it, pregnant mothers, too," the waiter looks at me, but doesn't stare or look judgemental, which I am eternally grateful for, "any other drinks I can get you?"

"Can I have some sparkling water please?" Since I have HG, the things I can stomach easily are very limited. I have to keep to bland food, fizzy drinks– to fill me up and I get majority of my fruit and veg in via smoothies. It's not very glamorous.

"Yeah of course, I'll be back soon."

"So, I have to ask, I hope you don't mind." Oh here we go.. the pregnancy question, "What was this painting of?" His question completely shocks me, he hasn't stared at my growing bump, he hasn't asked any questions, he's simply getting to know me.

Before I disconnect from reality, again, I speak, "It's kinda hard to explain, it's, uh, 2 people, wait! I have a photo on my phone."

I take my phone out from my pocket, because Deli will only ever buy dresses with pockets, and I slide my phone over the table with my artwork on it.

"It's not my usual style, I do a lot of fine art, but I tried it and really loved how elegantly messy it was." I don't know why I feel the need to explain myself, but no one in my life has ever been supportive of this side of me– apart from my late grandma and Deli.

"You are insanely talented, Aurora. Do you have any of your usual style?"

I nod, "Yeah of course. I'll show you my favourite." Quickly I find the piece that was based off an old black and white photo of my grandma, and hand my phone back over to him.