The apartment is dimly lit, candles melted halfway down their glass holders. A dinner you spent hours making has gone cold. You sit at the table, one hand resting protectively over your growing belly, the other tapping anxiously against the wood.
𓇢𓆸 six years ago you and nanami broke up. quietly. without fights. your destinies arranged in a way it seemed like you are not meant to be together. six years later you meet on a blind date. grown up, matured and shook by the irony of fate. but who said that your destinies weren’t intended to collide again in this exact way from the start?
It was a rare moment of peace in a life that had been marked by chaos and danger, a calm respite from the relentless demands of his past. Your pregnancy had been a beacon of light in his life, a gentle reminder of everything good and pure that existed beyond the tumultuous world of sorcery. He had always known, deep down, that he wanted a family with you. He had been contemplating it for years.