04-03-2017, 12:49 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-05-2017, 09:33 AM by Disastardly.)
Something was wrong with her.
Something had to be wrong. If it wasn’t just her hormones, wasn’t just being pregnant, why else was this happening? Over the next couple of days, Dizzy managed to work herself up into a frantic, shaking mess, until she finally decided to just face it, head on. It couldn’t get worse, and the wreck she’d become couldn’t be good for the baby. It sure as hell wasn’t good for her. So she hunted him down, went looking for her Zor, because she had to, had to, had to find a way to make things right.
And when she saw him, she pulled a move from Dov’s vast and delightful repertoire, stalking over to him and crushing her lips against his, desperately trying to wake her body, to kindle that same spark, to feel heat flicker to life and catch fire until all she could think about was touching him, holding him, feeling the hunger in his touch, the weight of him pressing her down, aching for him to fill her.
And instead, she burst into tears, shaking and sobbing and hiding her face against his shoulder. “What’s wrong with me, Zor?” she asked him, a tremor in her voice to match the trembling of her body. “Something has to be wrong. God, I’m sorry, the last thing I want is to hurt you, what the hell is wrong with me?” The baby wasn’t even born yet, and already she was fucking everything up for it.
Poor kid was already fucking doomed, and it hadn’t even gotten a chance to find out what Dizzy was breaking. Like she seemed to break everything she touched. Always before, that thought had been joined by a quiet little except my Zor. The only one she’d never broken except in all the right ways, the man who had stood by her side for years, who had been her everything for most of their lives. But now?
“I don’t know how to do this, Zor.” I don’t know how to do anything anymore without breaking your heart. God, I’m worse than they were, and I don’t know how to stop it.
Something had to be wrong. If it wasn’t just her hormones, wasn’t just being pregnant, why else was this happening? Over the next couple of days, Dizzy managed to work herself up into a frantic, shaking mess, until she finally decided to just face it, head on. It couldn’t get worse, and the wreck she’d become couldn’t be good for the baby. It sure as hell wasn’t good for her. So she hunted him down, went looking for her Zor, because she had to, had to, had to find a way to make things right.
And when she saw him, she pulled a move from Dov’s vast and delightful repertoire, stalking over to him and crushing her lips against his, desperately trying to wake her body, to kindle that same spark, to feel heat flicker to life and catch fire until all she could think about was touching him, holding him, feeling the hunger in his touch, the weight of him pressing her down, aching for him to fill her.
And instead, she burst into tears, shaking and sobbing and hiding her face against his shoulder. “What’s wrong with me, Zor?” she asked him, a tremor in her voice to match the trembling of her body. “Something has to be wrong. God, I’m sorry, the last thing I want is to hurt you, what the hell is wrong with me?” The baby wasn’t even born yet, and already she was fucking everything up for it.
Poor kid was already fucking doomed, and it hadn’t even gotten a chance to find out what Dizzy was breaking. Like she seemed to break everything she touched. Always before, that thought had been joined by a quiet little except my Zor. The only one she’d never broken except in all the right ways, the man who had stood by her side for years, who had been her everything for most of their lives. But now?
“I don’t know how to do this, Zor.” I don’t know how to do anything anymore without breaking your heart. God, I’m worse than they were, and I don’t know how to stop it.