김태형| Sexologist

32 » Teeny Tiny Us

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"Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own."

"Chan-ri here, I need you to take this." Taehyung walked to the bed and sat down on edge, handing you a plastic bag.

"Um, baby?" Your stomach snarled and howled the moment Taehyung walked in the room. It came in waves and it seemed as though your stomach was slowly digesting itself. You clutched at it, pulling it this way and that in an attempt to silence it but to no avail. It cried even louder, earning you curious stares from Taehyung. It was a slow pain, eating away at your stomach and leaving you feeling drained and empty. Even though you just ate. Why the hell are you so hungry? "What's in the bag, is it food, I'm hungry...again."

It takes a second or two for the new information to sink it, even though it is processed in his buzzing ears. He nibbles on his lips a bit, pointing at you as if lost for words, "You just ate, you're still-"

"What was that, stop complaining?!" You cast your eyes at Taehyung just long enough to catch his brown-rimmed eyes and downcast expression. You bristled, you weren't feeling empathy right at the moment.

"I wasn't complaining...I was just saying I just fed you soup."

"And I was just saying that soup wasn't enough, can you order me ramen with dumplings, pretty please..." You brooded, avoiding to look him in the eye. You knew it was wrong and you did it regardless. You were just being a complete ass. Then there was a silence where Taehyung stared at you like he always does when he doesn't know how to properly react to matters.

"Here," Taehyung revealed the plastic bag and handed you a pink box with the words, First Response, the packaging with an outline of a pregnant woman. You studied Taehyung, there was a strong-minded look in Taehyung's eyes, bewitching; it was as if their roasted-coffee-bean rim had diffused into cream-hued iris - mixing until it was the color of sun-dried beech wood as you gave him back the box, swaying your head, "Taehyung, I'm not pregnant."

"I know you aren't." He handed the box back, shaking his head, mimicking your same actions. "I just want to be sure, take the test."

You got up from the bed and jerked the box out of his hands, rolling your eyes. "Oh my God Tae, I'll take this stupid test so you get off my back about it."

"Thank you, I would really appreciate it." A satisfaction, as if having completed a deeply, personally needed action; curve at his mouth's corner and in a slight raise of the eyebrow above a confident, joyful eye.

You got up from the bed, wandered off to the master bathroom and slammed the door before you remembered you needed a cup.

You reopened the door, poking your head out. "Bring me a cup..." You frowned, leaning against the wall. You heard footsteps and when you turned your head you saw Taehyung standing there with a paper cup in his hand, peeking through the door.

"I love you meanie." He stuck his tongue out and had this smirk on his face, arrogance, that you wanted to snatch off his face. You took the cup in your hand and closed the door, slow but firm enough for him to know your mood.

You sat the pregnancy box down on the sink counter, slipped down your black sweats and underwear, grabbed the cup and started to urinate into it. After you finished you got up, ripped open the box; grabbed one of the tests and dipped it in you're urine.

You set a timer in your mind, a minute, to let the test do its thing. It felt like the longest minute of your life waiting for that test result. You paced back and forth, hoping to god that your hunch was correct and that you were just having some sort of stomach bug or something like that, honestly you didn't know how to feel. Did you want kids with Taehyung or not, was now the time or not? Honestly, it tore you, thoughts of what that test would reveal bugged you and even now, you started to doubt yourself.