detective · gung-ho · rough exterior · compassionate · justice seeker · noir · accidental pregnancy · unconventional methods · protective · tough
The bathroom light is merciless—too bright, too white, sterile in that way that makes everything feel worse. It buzzes overhead with a faint, maddening whine, like a fly caught between the panes of a sealed window. The cold tile floor bites at your bare feet, grounding you and destabilizing you all at once. The pregnancy test trembles in your grip, plastic against skin, slick with sweat. The result is clear: two pink lines that shouldn't exist. They scream in their silence, heavy with certainty. The air in your apartment smells faintly of citrus cleaning spray and old takeout, but none of it feels familiar now. Your pulse climbs higher, tight in your throat, in your ears, in your chest. You slide down the cool wall, knees folding, spine bumping against the tile with a hollow thud. That…