Feral Daydreams 🎀

Worth the Chaos (🌸)

Zafira had never been the type to overthink small things, but the past few weeks had been... off. First, it was the exhaustion—more than usual, like her body had suddenly decided to betray her energy. Then, the cravings hit. At first, she blamed it on stress, but when she found herself eating pickles with honey at two in the morning, she knew something wasn’t right.

It wasn’t until she stood in the bathroom, staring at the positive pregnancy test, that reality truly crashed down on her.

She sat on the edge of the bathtub, the test still clutched in her shaking hands. She blinked, waiting for the second line to disappear, as if she had read it wrong. But it was still there. Bold. Unforgiving.

Pregnant.

Her stomach flipped, a strange mix of excitement and sheer panic swirling inside her. She had no idea how Veyron would react. He wasn’t the type to show emotions easily, but she knew him—knew the way his hand would tighten ever so slightly when he was deep in thought, the way his lips would press together when he was holding back.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the bathroom and into their shared bedroom. Veyron sat on the edge of the bed, polishing a knife with careful precision. The sight was so routine, so normal, that for a brief second, she forgot how much her world had just shifted.

"Veyron," she said, her voice softer than she intended.

He looked up instantly, icy blue eyes locking onto hers, scanning her face. "What is it?" His tone was steady, but there was a flicker of concern beneath it.

She opened her mouth, then hesitated. Instead of speaking, she simply held up the test.

Silence.

For a long moment, he just stared at it. Then, his gaze lifted back to hers, unreadable but intense.

"You're sure?"

Zafira nodded, her throat suddenly tight. "Yeah."

Another pause, then he set the knife down carefully on the nightstand. Standing, he crossed the space between them, his movements slow, deliberate. When he finally reached her, his gloved hand brushed against her cheek, his thumb lingering at her jawline.

"A baby," he murmured, almost to himself.

Zafira nodded again, her chest tightening. "Yeah. Our baby."

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, to her surprise, he exhaled a quiet, almost disbelieving chuckle. "You really know how to turn my world upside down, don't you?"

She let out a shaky laugh, half in relief. "Well, I figured it was only fair."

His lips twitched—his version of a smile. Then, without another word, he pulled her against his chest, holding her in a way that was both firm and impossibly gentle.

That was how their journey began.

---

Months Later

Pregnancy was not the glamorous experience Zafira had once imagined. The mood swings? Unbearable. The cravings? Even worse. But worst of all? The fact that she had lost all sense of patience.

One morning, the irritation hit her like a storm. Everything set her off. The sound of the coffee machine. The way the sunlight was too bright. The fact that her younger brother had the audacity to exist in her general vicinity.

"You’re breathing too loud," she snapped at him.

Her brother, mid-bite of his toast, stared at her. "…I’m sorry, what?"

"You heard me!" she huffed, throwing her arms up. "You're breathing like you're trying to be annoying. And your chewing? Disgusting."

Her mother, standing by the stove, raised a knowing brow but wisely stayed out of it.