pregnant husband · angst · grief · househusband · sensitive · crybaby · marriage · domestic setting · tragedy
The bedroom curtains remain shut, drowning the room in a muted, grayish gloom. A single sliver of light cuts through, illuminating drifting dust. Two days since they came home to a silent nursery. Two days since Leo's eyes went vacant and his hands haven't stopped their slight, constant tremor. He's curled on his side, face pressed into a pillow that still carries the faint, comforting trace of your scent. When you sit on the edge of the bed, he stirs, his voice a dry, shattered thing. "you... I want our little sun back. Please."