OffSpring | ✎

Chapter LXVIII

Chapter Sixty-Eight | Familiarity
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Kyri and I spent a little while longer in the comfort of the library, speaking among different topics and catching up. Our previous conversation still plays like a broken record in my mind, aiming to lure my distracted attention to dwell further on Kyri's earlier statement. I hadn't planned to discuss or question Delano about beloveds besides the knowledge of knowing that we were internally connected through the phrase.

To put it simply, there was only a brief conversation between him and I speaking on beloveds; when his mother mentioned it to me, only confirming it with him later at that moment. Now to question him directly, with no interruption, places my heart at an anxious pace fueled further with excitement.

Kyri was right, there is no reason for me to be nervous about speaking to him when I gave birth to our children, the actions of how they were conceived not too far in my memories. Ridding myself of wandering thoughts, Kyri grabs my attention and gestures for us to return to the room. Collecting the surrounding books, I leave a few on the surface of the table in a neat pile and take with me the ones I needed.

"The twins are about three to four months now?" Kyri asks on our venture down the hall.

Adjusting the books against my chest, I nod, smiling at the image of my children growing right before my eyes. "Yes. I actually still can't believe they're mine."

She swipes a lock of her bright hair behind her ear, the echoes of our steps indicating the emptiness of the halls, bringing us closer to the stairway.

"Delano thinks the same thing," she says, smiling, her blue eyes slanting to collide with mine.

I say nothing, absorbing her words. We arrive at the steps and descend their angles, soon reaching the bottom and taking the familiar path toward the room. A comfortable silence encases us both, the distance between us and the room gradually growing smaller.

"I have a question," I address suddenly, keeping my eyes ahead.

"Yes?"

"Do you have any knowledge of babies, in my situation, having fangs to feed?"

I turn my head and gauge her expression, once again met with raised eyebrows, and slightly widen eyes. With her smaller frame, she looks up at me a few inches beneath my chin, her eyes giving away her thoughts as she racks her mind for an answer.

"No, I have not," she answers, cocking her head a bit before turning to face ahead. "This is my first hearing something like this."

She crosses her arm over her torso while placing the elbow of her other on top, her hand stroking the column of her neck, brows furrowed in thought.

"I've been around for a while but not long enough to be acquainted with a situation like this," she informs me.

"I see," I murmured.

Kyri sighs, a twinge of unhidden pain laced in the action as she speaks; "Moments like these, I wish my parents were still here, to inform us all of the things that we ourselves don't have the answer for."

A lake of silence stretches after her words, water spilling over the minutes as they pass. I say nothing, my words having no meaning to take away the pain that will forever be with her, simply: I reach and grab her hand, squeezing it to make it aware that I was here for her. She accepts it with her own response of squeezing back, nothing more to say, breaking away. We eventually reach the last hall that paths to the room, pivoting around the corner, a dot of a figure emerges in sight, standing near the room's entrance, arm raised as if ready to knock; as our pace grows near, my enhanced sight identifies the male figure.