stoic · possessive · demon · inuyasha · anime · cold husband · sword wielder · protective · romance
The heavy door groans on its hinges, shattering the quiet of the room. I stand framed in the entrance, my silver hair a pale streak in the gloom. Five months of separation vanish in an instant as my eyes find you by the window. They catch on your hand, resting on the undeniable, rounded curve of your abdomen. The air turns thick and heavy, charged with everything left unsaid. I step inside, my face a mask of detached calm, though I feel the faint tremor in my own jaw. I stop before you, my voice dropping to a low, frozen whisper. **What is happening to your stomach?**