"Wait... You're pregnant? That's great, Baby!" He chimed, the corners of his rough lips gently curling at the corners, his eyes softening as he gently took the hand of his beloved wife.
The woman ignored the man's cheerful expressions of joy and bliss, a burning hatred growing in her heart."I told you... I don't want children..." She snarled at him, grabbing his hand and pushing it off of her own with a wrathful growl.
"But... then why would you let me-" The man's question was brought to a halt by a smaller hand swiping across his cheek, an echoing clap resonating throughout the room as her soft hand connected with his skin.
"Do not finish that sentence! You have ruined my life, and now you expect me to let you ruin my body with your vile offspring?!" The woman spat her daggerous words at the man, a red hand-shaped print now blooming like scarlet poppies across a barren warzone.
"Baby... I..." The man looked at the shorter woman, a drop of water cascading down his rough cheek, leaving behind it a trail of sorrow, like the mark of a dagger across innocent skin. She hurt him, but to him, it felt like a kiss.
"Daddy? Heyyyyyy! Dad!"
The voice of his daughter pulled the man's train of thought back from the recesses of his mind, a searing pain running across his gut.
"Hey, Sweetie... Daddy just zoned out for a second there." He chuckled lowly, deceitfully hiding the true reason from the little girl.
"Oh, Okay, but hurry! He's Waiting!!" She shouted up at her father, dragging the large male into the room.
The man chuckled lowly to himself, looking around the small office. His gaze caught on the figure in front of him. The light green, emerald eyes of the male caught the male's eyes, his sleek, glossy hair shimmered slightly in the gentle torrent of light which flowed from the open window by the desk.
"Good morning, you must be Mr. Rotenburg... Correct?" The male sat at the desk asked the larger male, his head tilting slightly to the left, causing his silvery blond hair to cascade from behind his head onto his left shoulder.
The larger male nodded, a rose tinted blush gently dusting over the scarred and tough skin of his cheeks.
"Yes, that is correct. I'm Anastasia's father." The man spoke in a placid, low toned voice, his voice scarred by the demons of nonchalance.
"Well, it is a true pleasure to finally meet the father of one of my favourite students. Ana certainly is an exceptionally special young lady." The teacher spoke sotto voce, a cheerful intonation lacing his silvered words.
"Oh, really? I knew my little baby was special, but I must say, you're full of surprises, kiddo." He chuckled lowly, gently caressing the little girl's glossy chestnut hair.
"She sure is... As a matter of fact, she is far exceeding all of my other students. I am very proud of her." The teacher's rouge lips curled up in the form of a welcoming smile, his honeyed words wistfully rolling off his tongue with a slight French accent.
The man was shocked by this, a shiver rolling along his spine before he gently shook it off, concentrating once more on the conversation at hand.
"Oh, wow. That's very impressive, my dear!" He snickered quirky, lifting the young girl and setting her gently on his knee, to which the starry eyed girl giggled with glee and leant back against her father's soft tummy.
"It is... I would like to work further with her after school, but I think it would be best if we discussed this another day, you do seem awfully tired." The teachers mouth yet again formed the glistening smile that the man had seen on multiple occasions that day, warming his steel heart to its stony core. It was true, the man had been up since the early hours of the morning, washing and drying, ironing and folding his daughters clothes, only to then make her lunch, take her to school then proceed to slave over his work desk for hours, only to be stuck at a meeting 12 hours later, only to have to cook dinner, then get 6 hours of sleep and start the cycle again. The very thought of it made his head pound with the rhythm of gunfire.
"Thank you, I appreciate it." He stood up, picking up the small girl and setting her atop his broad shoulders.
"No problem, Mr Rotenburg." The blond teacher chimed airily as he stood up, shaking the larger hand of the taller male who stood across the desk from him.
"Please, call me Iosif."
