Thank you so much to my wonderful reviewers! Sorry for the wait - school's been hectic lately.
Standard disclaimers apply. Trigger warning for miscarriage and general darkness and unhappiness, I guess.
He sings to her daily now, knowing that it helps her forget. Deep down, he hopes it will help himself forget as well. She still hasn't reciprocated, and he won't ask her to. But he can't help but feel that some day, when she's ready, she'll surprise him and bless him with her voice once more.
She's standing by the piano early one morning — neither of them sleep very much these days — and swaying gently with the beat when blood begins to spread across the skirt of her pale dress. They both notice at the same time. His eyes widen in shock. Hers slide closed, as if she's in pain.
He jumps to his feet, moves around to stand by her, hovers helplessly. He doesn't know what to do. He has killed many times before, but he's not sure he's ever seen this much blood.
Her eyes are open now, staring widely at him from her pale, pale face. But she doesn't move, doesn't cry out, doesn't even seem to breathe.
"Is this normal?" he demands, already knowing that it's not from her expression. Her pallid cheeks. Her shaking hands.
"I think . . ." She takes a shaky breath, eyes wide and glassy but full of emotion once more. Fear. Sorrow. Regret. "I think I was pregnant."
It is as if the bottom has dropped out of his stomach. He staggers, reaches out to grab the wall. Almost falls anyway.
Was.
He has been patient, painfully patient, with her these past weeks. But he can no longer find it in his tortured soul. His hands are in her hair, pulling her with him, and though she struggles weakly she can not break free.
"Whose was it?" he demands, his voice thunderous. She gazes blankly into the distance. He shakes her. Her eyes close again. "Christine, I must know. Whose child?"
"Yours," she whispers, a single tear sliding down her cheek. Dripping onto his wrist. "It must have been. Raoul and I never–"
He releases her abruptly and she falls, too shocked to catch herself. The blood is pooling across her dress and he forces his eyes away. His heart clenches. "Did you know?"
"Did I know what?"
His last nerve is frayed through, weak hold on his temper gone. He is outright shouting now. Enraged. "While you were sitting here starving yourself, did you know you were with child? Did you know what you were doing?"
Maybe she nods. Maybe she shakes her head. There is red creeping into his vision, and he does not see either way. "Murderer!" he screams for the first time, knowing how it will hurt her and not caring either way. She deserves it. His hand connects with her face. She falls to the ground and lies motionless. It's as if she is dead. Once the idea would have horrified him, but now he is simply numb.
Perhaps they should both join their unborn child in death.
There are a few more dark chapters, and then it'll probably get a little less heavy. I'll also try to get the next chapter of Beneath a Moonless Sky out soon. Anyway, let me know what you think! Reviews are confidence boosters!
Much love,
KnightNight