𝕭𝖚𝖎𝖑𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖓 ✧ American Horror Story

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓: 𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑

✧

As Elliot and Tate each grasped one of Ophelia's arms, hoisting her from the comfort of her bed, she felt the weight of her own body, a burden accentuated by the bulging evidence of her pregnancy. A huffed sigh escaped her lips, a testament to the struggle against gravity's persistent pull. "I'm the size of a planet."

Elliot's smile radiated warmth as he bent down, planting a soft kiss on the crown of her head. "You're beautiful."

A skeptical chuckle bubbled from Ophelia. "Don't lie. I'm fucking ginormous at six months."

Tate, indifferent yet pragmatic, interjected, "You are having twins."

Ophelia shot him a playful yet pointed glare, flicking her eyes in his direction. "You're not supposed to agree with me."

"Uh, Chad... what did we talk about?"

The room fell into a hushed stillness as the trio redirected their attention toward the unfolding exchange across the hall.

"Our babies, not my babies."

Chad's voice rang out, and Ophelia, perceptive as ever, furrowed her brows in response. A quick glance passed between Tate and Elliot, confusion etching itself onto her features.

"You know what? I can live with a red crib. It might actually be kind of fabulous."

A surge of determination propelled Ophelia to her feet, and she swiftly waddled to the bedroom door across the way, flinging it open. Elliot and Tate trailed behind, their presence flanking her like protective sentinels as they entered the room.

"I certainly didn't give either of you permission to decorate the nursery." Ophelia blinked, her arms folding across her chest as she looked up at Chad, who stood poised on a ladder.

The two men exchanged a brief glance before Chad took the lead in responding. "Let me break it down for you, sweetheart... This is our house, and we're having twins."

Ophelia, unimpressed, met Chad's gaze. A sarcastic smile played on her lips. "Oh, congrats. I didn't realize you got a surrogate. Let me guess, the nurse in the basement?"

Chad's irritation mounted as he descended the ladder, closing the distance between them. "No. No. A very human surrogate, Elvira. How kind of you to carry our babies."

Ophelia's face and arms fell in response to the revelation, rendering her momentarily speechless.

"You think you're going to steal our twins?" Tate stepped forward, his gaze shifting between the two men, arms crossed. "You pathetic homos couldn't steal the shit out of your own ass."

A shared glance of amusement passed between Ophelia and Elliot as they observed the unfolding scene. Chad, ignoring Tate's retort, chuckled and exchanged a glance with his husband.

"You know, a baby, even two, isn't enough to fix your shitty marriage," Ophelia declared, tilting her head to the side.

Patrick rose from his spot on the ground. "Don't get all snotty, sister. You'll be begging to babysit. As big as this place is, it does get very lonely."

"Babysit?" Ophelia scoffed. "Babysit my own kids?"

"Oh, honey. You really think you have the means to take care of them? You're a child," Chad smirked, fully aware of the impact his words were having.

"Watch it, you goddamn queen," Tate warned, drawing Chad's attention.

"Oh, I am quaking in my loafers. What are you gonna do?" Chad challenged, locking eyes with Tate. "Murder me?" With that, Chad climbed back up the ladder, resuming his decorating.