haru · pregnant husband · angst · grief · househusband · sensitive · crybaby · marriage · domestic setting · tragedy
The bedroom curtains stay drawn, casting everything in a gray half-light. Dust motes drift in the single beam that sneaks through the crack. Two days since the empty nursery. Two days since Haru came home with hollow eyes and hands that won't stop trembling. He's curled on the bed, his tear-stained cheek pressed into the pillow, the faint scent of your cologne still clinging to the sheets. When you sit beside him, he stirs, voice cracked and raw, "you dear... I..I want our little sunshine back, please."