He sat down next to me on the bed, holding the pregnancy stick as if was made of glass. His hands hold it, without putting additional pressure on the flat surface, and I'm too nervous to look at him, to say anything.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked softly, finally putting the stick on top of the cabinet next to my desk.
I shake my head and he stays quiet. Sensing my increasing panic, his hands move over to mine, grasping them in my lap.
"What about the father? Does he know?"
"I don't want to tell him. I would prefer if he wasn't involved, as I could imagine his parenting skills are debatable. Also, I haven't reached a decision as to how I want to proceed with this." I can't explain to Finn that it just happened, it just happened. It's not as if I slept with the father because I thought this would be an appropriate time to raise a child, and he was the best fit for my unfertilized eggs. I slept with him because his hands moved over me like I was made of glass, and his kisses breathed life into me.
Finn gives out a snort and a small smile escapes my lips. I'm staring at the carpet and tracing my left foot in a circle.
We fall back into silence, until he breaks it.
"I don't want you to go through this alone, whatever you decide to do." I'm afraid to look up at him.
"What about Quinn? She isn't going to be thrilled about this, and the two of you won't get back together. And your family, and the other reasons." My voice drops into a whisper, finally trailing off.
"It's okay. Then, we're not meant to be. I think its more important I'm here for you and what you're going through than worry about a girl who broke up with me, you know?" I wonder if he notices his fingers are circling my ring finger.
I don't say anything, I'm stunned that he would willingly do this for me, he would give up his role in the social hierarchy. I open my mouth, fully intent on declining his offer, when I burst into tears and fling myself into his shoulders.
He kisses my head as I climb into his lap, and sit there weeping, rubbing my back gently.
"We're not meant to be, either," I mumbled into his shirt. He doesn't say anything in response, for which I'm grateful. This may not be the best time to discuss our feelings. We sit there like that for the longest time, until I'm tired out and he puts me to bed, covering me with blankets and covers, and sits down next to me.
"You should get some rest." His eyes look worried, almost as if they're reflecting mine.
"I haven't done my homework or prepared a MySpace video, or warmed my voice for the rigorous training exercises." Not that I care about any of these things at the present time but I have to maintain some kind of appearance of my daily ritual.
His hand rubs my forehead, and I sniffle.
"You need rest more than that," mumbling that as he crawls into bed next to me. Finn covers me with his body, and I drift off to sleep. My eyes feel tired, and I have a heavy head. I'm at a loss at what tomorrow will bring.
