TOO LATE FOR SORRY
07-16-2014, 09:35 PM
She moves away from him, much to his disappointment. Vivid green eyes narrow upon her, watching as his Queen steps away from him. He does not move; contact is to be on her terms, after all, and he is afraid of pushing her too far and shattering whatever this is. He frowns as she looks downwards, wondering if this is the end, although he lets her speak if such is true. The words that fall from her lips are delivered like a prison sentence, and he pauses. ?Are they mine?? he questions suddenly, in what is perhaps the worst possible response he could ever have. In his head it is reasonable; he has no pact of monogamy with the Queen, and there is no shame in such an instance in sleeping around. He doesn?t know what to do; he?s never been through this before, never had the chance to be around when a woman tells him he is to be a father. He is a nomad, a vagabond. |