Touko bit her nails.
That was not a habit that she did much nowadays, but this time, she just felt like she needed to.
She would do anything to keep the bad thoughts away.
What thoughts you may ask?
Thoughts of failure, of disappoint, of abandonment.
Without noticing, the writer starts caressing her swollen belly, her callused hands gently stroking at her own skin.
When her mind come back to the present, Touko pulled her hand away and looked shocked at her belly.
"I-It wasn't- isn't, a dream." She whispers to herself.
' It would be better if it was a dream though.' A poisonous part of her mind comments, using the voice of her mother.
' Do you really think that a unstable freak like you could ever take care of a child?' Another part of her mind, this one mimicking the voice of mother number two says.
' The boy is only with you because even a pathetic excuse of a human being like you can make good bank.' A third voice, this time being that of her father speaks up, a harsh tone in his mimicked words. ' When you least expect, he'll just grab the money and fuck off.'
The voices continue, one after the other, hurdling insults, threats, or just meaningless words that still somehow made Touko uncomfortable.
Feeling her breath getting heavier and her body hotter, Touko closes her eyes.
She tried to ignore them, she really did, but it was so hard.
Maybe it would be easier if she just-
"Touko?"
Makoto's warm hands grab onto her shoulders from behind.
It's surprising to the writer just how easily, with just a simple touch he could calm her down.
"I-it's nothing." She says, closing her eyes again.
"Sure seems like something." Makoto chuckles when his wife scoffs. "Seriously though, is something up?"
The writer thinks for a second, then sighs. Even if she didn't said anything, Makoto would eventually find out what she was thinking, so might as well tell him now.
"I-I was j-just t-thinking about s-something." She says, cursing at herself for slipping back into her stutter. "O-Our c-child-" Shifting her gaze down to her own belly, Touko takes a deep breath. "-s-she's g-going t-to g-grow up i-in a w-way s-similar t-to me." Biting her lower lip, the writer continues. "W-With t-two u-unstable m-mothers."
Makoto listened carefully, in a way he already knew that she was going to eventually make that connection.
There was no day that passed by where he didn't wish for Touko to forget about her past and her terrible parents.
Yet, he knew that it was impossible, the scar that they left in her was just too deep, no amount of time was going to heal it.
"No, I believe that's wrong." Smiling, the brunette wraps his arms around Touko's shoulders, hugging her from behind. "You and Syo aren't anything like your parents." He feels his wife's shoulders tense up, before finally relaxing down. "All the progress that you and Syo did to better yourselves is enough proof of that." Moving his hand to touch hers, Makoto smiles. "And also, I will always be here by your side."
A short silence fills the room, only to be broken by Touko's chuckle.
"Real c-cheesy, a-aren't y-you?" She quips back, making her husband giggle. "Thanks Mako, for not abandoning me, I mean." Touko adjusts her glasses and smiles, a genuinely good smile. "I love you."
Giving her a kiss in the forehead, the brunette replies. "I love you too, my grumpy writer."
Touko couldn't predict the future, she couldn't possibly know if she was going to be a good mother or just repeat the same mistakes that her own parents did.
But, she could try to be better.
She will try to be better and the writer knew deep down that her other half would too.