Mole x Reader- Merciless Mercenary

16.) But I Can't Help Falling in Love With You

"Go away!" The girl threw a pillow at her benevolent husband and he let it fall, though he was not angry with his irritated wife; more amused. She was growing tired of Christophe doing virtually everything for her. The doctor did advise bed rest, but he was going overboard in her opinion. It got so severe he would insist on carrying her to and from the bathroom, which crossed a line with her.

"But you said you wanted a sandwich, so what is the matter?!"

"I said 'I think I'll make myself a sandwich', then you started making one for me though I kept saying not to!"

"Do you want the fucking sandwich or not?!"

"... Yes please."

"Just as I thought." He sat next to her on the couch and raised a sliced sandwich piece to her mouth, only to be stopped by a scowl that rivaled his own.

"NOT necessary."

But it was, in his eyes, crucially necessary that she was properly fed and taken care of.

"Christophe, I don't need you!"

"Shut up."

She never realized that he was the nurturing type, though he never actually had a chance to show it until now. So with another scowl, she accepted his food. He obviously then took it upon himself to wipe her face, clean the coffee table, clean the dish, and massage her back and sides to ensure she digested the food well. Though it was excessive, the girl absolutely adored every minute. And she could not really complain about the massages being thrown out like hotcakes.

"Mhm. Lover, how much do you love me?"

"I suppose enough to do zhe stupid and ridiculous favour you are about to ask of me."

"So that means you'll go down town to get my sins?"

He stopped his magical massage, "Do you really need ice cream, fat American?"

"No," she grinned, "but your baby does."

"So whenever it is advantageous to you, it's my baby?"

"And when she's the first astronaut to land on Mars, she'll be my baby."

"Vell, you needn't worry about that. Because zhere is a he inside you, and he does not need ice cream."

"If you do it, I'll implement operation Snickers after the baby's born."

"Those are 'eavy words you speak, voman."

Operation Snickers; one of the kinkiest things they did in bed together, and it was highly sacred, reserved only for the most passionate nights and as bribery. The details of it are rather... sweet, to say the least. It was heavy enough to convince him to go out in the snow for her. Actually, he would have to walk the long path from their house to the rest of the populated town and to the store by foot since their car was not working, and every garage was closed on that Sunday.

"Goddamn bitch," he muttered to himself as he walked, "you are so damn lucky I love you."

Though she did feel guilty for sending her poor husband out into the snow merely to get ice cream, knowing the car was broken, but the ulterior motive for peace and solitude was worth it. The child inside of her was especially restless that day, twisting and moving rambunctiously. It caused her to groan a bit and hold her stomach. The doctors told her that the baby would be restless, especially because it was breeched, which was why a cesarean section was scheduled for the upcoming Friday.

Looking out the window, she saw the snow rapidly gain speed and size. She began to worry about Christophe, and felt horrible about sending him out for alone time. The silence within the household was not the company it used to be. Upon the coffee table rested his most beloved knife; he had intended to clean it later. She picked it up, and let the cool blade rest upon her palms. Suddenly, she dropped it and clenched her stomach, feeling pain that not even fetal movements could induce. She tried rationalizing the discomfort as fine, until a large gush of fluid splashed from in between her legs and onto the floor.