Ambience ~ n.m.

41; Binkies And Coffins

'Runaway' by AURORA

"I was painting a picture.

The picture was a painting of you and for a moment I thought you were there.

But again, it wasn't true. 

And all this time I have been lying.

Oh, lying in secret to myself."

I sat in the rocking chair in the baby room. It was a sunny that day, the liquid gold poured through the sheer white curtains. I wore a white and red maternity dress, it was the only thing that was really comfortable to me.

As I sat, I wrote. Thinking and talking to the person that mattered most in my life, even though we had never met yet. "Writing a love letter to your many suitors?" Klaus asked from the doorway.

"I only have one suitor, thank you very much," I chuckle.

"And who may that be? Elijah or Marcel?" He teased and I made a face. "Don't tell me that it could be for me," Klaus smiled.41 I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"Oh, darling, you were out of the running ages ago," I teased him.

Klaus laughed and I bit my lip. The baby kicked. "Oh!" I exclaimed with a small smile. Klaus came closer, resting his arm on the baby cradle.

"How is our little one?" Klaus asked.

"Do you want to feel her kick?" I asked him.

Klaus smiled the tiniest bit and I gestured to my side. "Come on," I said. Klaus went to his knees in front of me and hesitantly placed his hand on my stomach. I looked at him as he focused. He gasped and a smile spread across his face. "Did you feel that?" I giggled.

Klaus looked up at me, and I put my hand to his cheek. I smiled at him. "You know, I always wanted to name my baby girl Eden," I admit smiling at him. Klaus gave a slight smile back.

"Right." He sighed and stood.

"I'll leave you to your secret letter then," Klaus told me before he turned and left the room.

I sighed and continued to write.

"Dear Alice, or Nicole, or Caitlyn,

To my little girl,

Your dad just asked if this was a love letter. I guess it kind of is. I remember my mother as a hard-working, loving friend. It was ripped away from me as I found out that I never was hers in the first place.

My real mother was as hard-working or as loving as the mother that raised me, but in the end, she sacrificed herself for me to live, and the same goes for my real father. I never really thought of how she felt when she was carrying me.

So, I thought I'd write to you so that I could tell you how happy I am at this very moment, how much your father and I can't wait to meet you. I want to make you a promise that I will be the best mother to the best of my abilities.