"Secrets can only lie in the dark for so long..."
Martha Dévolla had always been a fiery, uncontrollable, ambitious girl since she was young. When her teachers told her to sit still, she leaped about. If the rain poured heavily on her picnic plan...
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"ARE YOU NERVOUS?" Was the first question Martha asked Sam when they arrived at the hospital that afternoon. She was gauging his reaction, eyeing his calm and cool mask. It was all an act, she knew, for she could see right through him.
Sam deflected, crossing his large arms over his chest. "What is there to be nervous about?"
"Plenty." She replied, earning his arched brow and paranoid glances. Lifting up a hand, she listed the many concerns for new time parents. "Diabetes, heart murmurs, deformed lungs, any under developments really. Insufficient hormone levels, kidney failure –"
"Alright." Sam huffed, rubbing his hands on his jean clad knees. "Alright, so I'm nervous."
Martha grinned, victorious. She patted his hand lightly, sending the big oaf a reassuring glance. "And you're not the only one in the boat. So, now that we've realized we feel the same emotions, we now know what the other needs. This is how you become transparent, Samuel."
"Transparency warrants vulnerability, meaning weaknesses being exposed to the enemy." He nodded his head sternly, watching the expecting parents in the room as they flipped through magazines with their large bellies and peaceful expression. Sam wasn't feeling any of that.
Personally, he worried his seed would destroy Martha and it was eating him alive. Of course, imprints are supposed to be specifically able to house offspring but he didn't think of Martha like that. A baby maker. She was so much more, so intricate and beautiful in her own right.
He tore up inside imagining how he shifts and what that could do to Martha if something went wrong. The dancer was strong, but not immortal.
Turning his attention back to the tranquil waiting room, said mother-to-be was watching Sam intently. Her molten brown eyes reflected warmth and security, consistency. She was firm and unmovable in this instant. A force to be reckoned with.
Lowering her voice to a soft murmur, she titled her head to the right slightly. "Do I look like the enemy, Sam? We are a team, no? On the same side. I only want what's best for you and I hope you feel the same."
Inhaling deeply, he fixed his mind on serene things, positive and attractive things. Like how radiant Martha looked today, in her cozy, navy blue sweater. The cool color brought out her eyes and tan skin. And her curled hair, which was wrapped around itself in a messy low bun. Pregnancy looked breathtaking on her, suited her well. When he exhaled, the panic was long gone.
