Miscommunication {|| Sheith Mpreg ||}

Chapter Eighteen

Keith's POV:

My breath hitched when Shiro spoke those words.

   "You tried to cut the baby out, didn't you?"

    Shiro's eyes were filled with desperation, anger and worry. I flinched under his gaze.

    "What?!" Allura turned around suddenly, almost dropping her equipment. "Did what?!"

    The words were stuck in my throat, and Shiro jumped in.

   "He tried to cut the baby out. Through his stomach." He explained bluntly. "He tried to abort the baby by himself through a c-section."

    My chest tightened.

   "C-Section?!" Allura sounded very frightened.

   "It's when a baby is delivered by cutting a surgical incision into the abdomen." Shiro recalled. "I don't remember the details, it's been a while, but I remember enough to know that c-sections are meant for fully grown babies..! And doing one by yourself is not only extremely painful but also incredibly stupid!"

    Shiro turned to me, anger showing in his desperation and shock. "What the hell were you thinking?!! That could've killed you!!! Do you understand that?!?!"

    My eyes widened in surprise at Shiro's sudden anger. It was unlike the petty anger I saw when we were fighting over leftovers, this was a completely different side of Shiro.

     "Shiro I-" I started, but I broke down crying. The massive amount of guilt towered over me, like a brick. I remembered it, crystal-clear;

~Flashback~

     The mirror is lying to me. I knew it from the day I started getting sick. There's a bump where it shouldn't be, a bump that will cause chaos within the castle.

    Shiro's anger has deterred me from telling him, his anger at me not opening up to him. I was sure the anger with a surprise baby would be excruciating.

    I sat down on my bed, and while the walls were silent, my brain was not. The noise got louder as I scanned my room, and grew to a screech when I laid eyes on my Malmora blade across the room.

    I could fix it all,

   I slowly stood up, walking to the blade.

   It will all be normal again,

   I picked up the blade, studying it's marks.

    All I have to do,

   I moved my shirt up, off my tummy.

   IS GET RID OF IT.

   Pain. Excruciating, agonizing pain. I screamed in the misery, collapsing over myself. The bloodied blade toppled from my hands as I squeezed my abdomen in terror.

    There I saw; A bloody gash ripping at my skin. A clean cut, all the way across my lower belly. There was too much blood to tell how deep it was, but I knew one thing immediately;

    It was a mistake.

   
    When I finally got the guts (and the strength) to hobble over to Coran's room, he was shocked. I quickly came up with a story about how I'd previously gotten the injury in a fight, and didn't mend it properly. Therefore, my wound had reopened. Coran believed it. Everyone believed it.