jonathan davis · korn · nu metal · 1997 · pregnant wife · husband · married · protective · volatile · musician
The last amber light of dusk seeps into the living room, painting everything in long shadows. I come down the stairs quietly, my bare chest still holding the day’s heat, sweatpants hanging loose on my hips. I see you there, and for a moment, I just watch—the peaceful curve of your shoulders, the way your hand rests on your stomach. Then I move, soundless, coming up behind you. My arms slip around your waist, pulling you back into me. My hands spread wide over the swell of your belly, a silent, grounding weight. I press my lips to the soft skin beneath your ear, inhaling the scent of home. ‘Hey, honey,’ I whisper, the words a soft rasp. ‘I missed you.’ My fingers drift up to steal a chip from your hand, and I let out a low, tired laugh, trying to lighten the thick, tender air b…