I AM SCREAMING INTERNALLY - Tumblr Posts

─ The clock ticks across the room, mocking him with every second that you're gone. It laughs with every minute, hands sticking out this way and that. The arrows emphasize just how great the distance is between the two of you ─ between you, between him. If he counts by five, it wouldn't seem so bad. If he counts by ten, it really hasn't been that long at all.

You'd slipped out of bed forty-two minutes ago.

You haven't been back since.

It was good ─ it had all been so good just a few weeks ago. Closer, he had thought. More, he had wanted.

You don't stay over as much as you used to anymore, denying him of his need to see you ─ refusing him of his desire to hold you. Sometimes you gave a good excuse ─ sometimes you really did try. Other times, you sent a quick text, turning your phone off shortly after.

"Sorry, not tonight."

"No worries." He'd send right back.

The nights you did stay over were the ones that tormented him the most. He'd ignored it at first, pretending to be asleep every time you slipped out of the bedroom. Sometimes, you'd come back in three minutes. Other times, he'd lie awake and wait. He'd wait and wait ─ only for five minutes to become ten, for ten minutes to become twenty.

The door to the bedroom would creak open and you'd slip back into the sheets beside him just before his worry became suffocating ─ just before it threatened to spill out of him uncontrollably. He didn't want to confront you ─ didn't want to stand in front of you, pathetically holding on to what was left of you in his arms. Sorry, he would say. Could you give me more? He would beg.

He puts his cigarette out in the ash tray beside him, eyeing the flecks of red and orange as they come to life ─ only to die shortly after. He'd lit his cigarette thirty minutes after you'd walked out. He groans as he contemplates smoking a second one.

The clock continues to tick.

Shinichiro squints at the light coming in from the hallway.

You'd forgotten to shut the door on your way out, pushing it open as quietly as you could ─ as quickly as you could.

He hears the fan go on in the restroom and sits up, furrowing his brow at the sound. He never did pry ─ had never asked you where you were going or what you were doing. He'd never wanted to either.

It wasn't until you started taking your phone with you that he felt a forcible shift in the axis of his moon ─ in the gravity of his only star. It's not right, he knows that. It's not fair of him to be so possessive, to love you so intensely and wordlessly from afar, when all he's shown you is crooked smiles and pointed ─ when all he's done is bed you.

Shinichiro feared your rejection. He thinks he might fear your alienation a little bit more. To isolate yourself and have him stand as if he were on the outside looking in ─ as if there had never been a place for him beside you, as if there would never be one─ the thought startled him. The reality of it had only just started to settle in.

He gets up on shaky limbs, long legs supporting him as he makes his way over to the restroom, brows furrowed as he knocks on the door. It wasn't locked. You hadn't fully closed it either.

"Love?"

My love, he wants to say. The words claw at his throat, clambering up his vocal cords. My lover.

He keeps his voice down, hoping it'd reach you despite his low tone. His siblings were just down the hall; it'd been a hassle to get them in bed in the first place. It'd be an even bigger pain to have to do it again, all while the fracturing of your relationship threatened to destroy the very ground he stood on.

He knocks once more and waits. Still, you don't reply. He excuses himself before nudging the door open with his elbow, worry etched onto his forehead at the lack of response.

Your arms are crossed against the edge of the tub, legs folded beneath you as you rest your forehead against the cool porcelain. Your throat burned, and your bones ached. Your skin wrapped around you like an embrace from the unwanted, suffocating and selfish ─ mindless and unfair. There was nothing you could do but endure it. There was nothing you could do but sit and wait.

Too much ─ it was all too much.

But you'd gotten rid of the evidence, you were sure of it. You'd flushed the toilet a few times over, had wiped at your nose and mouth a few times more. You drank as much water as you could without making yourself sick again, before taking a seat beside the tub. And you waited like you were supposed to. You waited for it to pass. The sound of blood rushed through your ears, and the bare skin of your legs tensed against the numbing tile. You were left trying to stop the noise ─ trying to rid yourself of the suffocating anxiety. Too much. Too loud. Too hot. Too cold. You thought the worst of it was over. You thought you'd gotten it under control. You'd started taking the pills the doctor had prescribed you ─ you'd even bought the vitamins she'd recommended for you too. You were sure you were better. You were supposed to get better. So why ─

Your eyes widen as the door opens.

You'd forgotten to lock it in your haste.

Shinichiro blinks down at your worn out figure ─ at the soft, startled blink of your teary eyes, and the subtle swell of your bitten lip. You looked so tired. You looked so alone. You wipe at your cheeks, rubbing at the wetness of your lash line before you give him a shaky smile.

"Did I wake you up? I'm sorry."

He doesn't say anything ─ the dusk of his eyes nervously glancing over every part of you that they could take in, every part of you that he could reach.

"I'm okay, Shin. I promise."

You were lying.

You struggle to stand and he watches in worry. It isn't until you nearly trip on the slipper behind you that he snaps out of it.

He guides you to the sink and grips your jaw, wordlessly prying your lips open with his thumb. You watch as he opens the cupboard, moving a princess themed toothbrush to the side as he reaches for his own. You watch as he coats the bristles with toothpaste, you watch as he wets them. You listen as he apologizes for not having yours.

"Manjiro knocked it over into the trash the other night. I've been meaning to get you a new one."

He's upset. You know that much from the furrow in his brow. There's a weight draped over his shoulders in the shape of you, and you hate her. You hate how selfishly she caresses him ─ how carelessly she digs her nails into his spirit. Crushing, twisting ─ ruining. You eye the darkness beneath his eyes as he mumbles, mostly to himself. He'd forgotten to get you a new toothbrush, he says. He kept forgetting, he says again.

"I'm sorry."

You blink at his apology and go to shake your head but his grip doesn't falter from your jaw. He does what he can to keep you in place ─ to keep you from slipping even further away.

"It's okay," you whisper.

The furrow of his brow doesn't go away as one arm holds you by your waist ─ the other moves to brush your teeth. You spit out the minty paste, returning the apology quietly as he reaches for a towel, wiping your face.

You feel coddled ─ like a child with needs that are always met. You're taken care of and you're held. He doesn't let you go.

A lithe index finger pries itself in between your lips once more, trailing across your bottom teeth. One by one, he feels the ridges. You watch him with wide eyes. He grips you tighter, holds you closer ─ just before he pulls his finger out, gliding his thumb across your bottom lip.

Shinichiro leans in to kiss you softly. You sigh into his mouth, and he touches his tongue to yours. You're too tired to pull away ─ too at ease to object.

He lets his bottom lip linger against your own as he speaks. You don't look into his eyes ─ watching the pink of his mouth, eyeing the white of his teeth instead.

"Bedroom?"

You nod and he turns off the restroom light as you make your way out. He follows behind you wordlessly, itching to get closer. You don't mind his nearness ─ finding comfort in his proximity.

A couple of steps. Another two. He presses into you as he opens the door to his room, and his heart hurts as you distance yourself to check your phone.

Who are you talking to? Look at me. Look at me.

He speaks before he can stop himself, before you slip out of his reach entirely, and leave him with nothing ─ a shell of the man he was before you.

"Did I do something?"

His voice is soft, just barely a whisper. A part of him says it's to not wake up the kids. The lovesick part of him ─ the part that yearns for you, that aches and begs for you ─ cries that it wants to keep you close.

"What?" You look up at him in confusion.

"You've been avoiding me," He says.

It hurts, he leaves out.

"And when you aren't avoiding me, I never know where you go. Or who you're talking to."

Your eyes soften.

"I'm not avoiding ─"

"You are."

You brows furrow at his tone.

"I haven't been feeling well."

"For three weeks now?"

You freeze, fingers gripping the shirt you'd worn to bed ─ his shirt ─ as hard as you could.

No. Not like this. You didn't want him to find out like this. You didn't want him to confront you like this.

You don't say anything, avoiding his gaze altogether.

This was it. This would be it, wouldn't it? He knows. He knows. And if he doesn't know yet, then he'd pry it out of you soon enough.

Your hands shake ─ a tremble so light, a tremor so near.

"Are you seeing someone else?"

"What?"

You aren't prepared for the ridiculous implication behind his words. Your head spins and your chest aches. You don't know what he's asking you. You don't understand what he's saying.

You don't know what he's implying.

He struggles to find the right words, running a hand through his dark strands in frustration. "I know we aren't exclusive. I know that this ─" He points between the two of you, lying through his teeth, "I know it isn't really anything."

You want to cry.

You think you just might.

You haven't been able to control your emotions in weeks ─ your heart breaking at the slightest of upsets. You didn't think you'd be able to fare well in front of him, so you'd avoided him for as long as you could. There was only so much you could take, there was only so much you could hold out on. You missed him.

But right now ─ right in this very moment ─ there is an unintentional harshness to his words.

Please don't make me cry. You repeat the words to yourself, over and over ─ as if they were a spell to quell your misery.

He keeps going.

"If you are seeing someone else, would you leave me out of it?"

Your lip quivers.

Stop talking, you want to say.

Stop.

Enough.

"You're being mean, Shin."

The dam breaks and he is a fool. You cry and you cry, and he feels his heart tear into two.

Shinichiro stares at you in shock for a moment before he reaches for you in panic, nearly tripping over his own legs in the process.

"Wait, no. No, I didn't mean ─"

You cry and he snaps out of the cruel state of reverie he'd lured himself into. If you were just a little more honest, maybe she'd stay. If you were just a little more direct, maybe she wouldn't go.

But not like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this at all.

"Why are you being mean to me?"

He shakes his head in panic, reaching out to you in a distraught hurry. "I didn't mean it, baby. I didn't mean for it to come out like that, that's not what I ─"

He takes two steps forward, eyes filled with want and worry ─ to hold and to comfort, to seize and to possess.

You take three steps back.

Shinichiro's steps falter, staring at you for a moment instead. He stares at you for another two. He doesn't want to upset you further ─ doesn't want to make it worse. He sits down on the bed, arms on his knees as he leans forward slightly, rubbing at his temple in shame. He loathes himself for the damage he's done. He hates himself for the tears you cry.

You wipe at your face with the back of your hand ─ a weak attempt to soothe yourself, and he struggles to keep it together.

There's still a cry left in you.

He knows that much from the sadness coating your eyes.

There was only so much he could do. There was only so much he could say ─ to fix the frayed mess before it was too late. Shinichiro picks up right where he left off.

"I need you to leave me out of it because I don't think I can take it."

Your breathing hitches and you're left to quietly listen, watching him behind a curtain of dew and heartbreak.

"I wouldn't care if it wasn't you. But it's you. For me, it's just you. So if you want to see someone else, I need to know. I need to know, Baby. Cause I can't ─"

He cuts himself off and looks away, dragging a hand across his face in hurt. He sends his thanks to the darkness lurking in his room ─ thankful for all that she has hidden, appreciative towards all that she has concealed. It's embarrassing really ─ how weak he is for you. It's laughable ─ how quickly you tear him down.

You blink at him from behind your tears, tilting your head at the sight before you. You find that you're thankful for the moon ─ for the sliver of light she lends you. You catch the hurt expression etched onto his face, and you weaken at the sight of the wet sheen in his eyes, all in the brief moment he'd let his gaze linger over you.

Ah. Then this was it. You had to tell him now. He had to know.

You move in your stupor, walking over to where your purse hung on his closet door, rummaging through your belongings. Most were scattered across his room, you'd often left parts of yourself for him to keep, but there were a few you hadn't been able to part with just yet.

Shinichiro swallows in fear, eyeing your figure in worry.

Don't go. Please don't go. Please.

He's about to utter the words, more than ready to beg for forgiveness, to beg for a chance ─ when you pull an envelope out.

He relaxes momentarily as you walk over to him, hesitant in your movements. He moves the cover for you to sit beside him, hand lingering over the seat he'd wanted you to take. You sit, staring at the creases of the paper in your palm. You'd folded and unfolded it every morning and night ─ staring, waiting. When would you give it to him? When would you tell him? For three weeks, you didn't know. For three weeks, you'd dwelled on the matter on your own.

You reach across his lap to turn on the lamp on his nightstand. He eyes the arch of your back, and falls in love with you all over again. He wants to touch you ─ wants to hold you right against his heart. He wants to pull you under the sheets and cover your body with his. He'd stroke the skin of your thighs and get rid of the goosebumps on your legs, watching as you are lulled to sleep. He wanted it all ─ wanted everything you would give him.

But he’d take what he could get for now. And right now, you're back in your spot on the bed, legs crossed, eyeing the white envelope in your hands.

You don't look him in the eye as you hand it over to him, scared of what you might see ─ terrified of what you might hear.

He takes it from you willingly, then stares at you for a couple seconds. Just a few seconds longer ─ just a couple more.

You lean against his arm.

"Open it," you whisper.

He kisses your forehead, then nods. You watch as long fingers slide against the envelope, as they pull the paper open and slip the contents out.

.

.

.

.

.

Shinichiro stares at the picture in his palm.

An x-ray?

No, an ultrasound.

He briefly remembers the one his mother had shown him of Manjiro, and he smiles at the memory.

He flips it over, eyeing the date scribbled onto the back in your handwriting. Just a little over three weeks ago.

Three weeks ago…?

There's another note on the bottom left, in messier writing than before ─ like your hands had been shaking, like you hadn't known what to say. He rubs his thumb over the indents of the ink.

'Baby Sano. 5 weeks old xx'

His eyes widen and he flips the picture over again, heart racing. This was your belly. This is your ultrasound. And this is ─

"You're pregnant?"

You nod tiredly against his arm.

You feel small in his bed. Vulnerable, fragile, and weak. You idly wonder if this body of yours would become strong enough to provide for this child ─ or if it would kill you in the process.

Shinichiro stares. He stares and he gapes, and he watches you for a moment longer before he turns away from you.

You'd expected the worst ─ had played the possibility of it over and over in your head. It was a relentless loop ─ one that never got easier. You pull yourself away from him, haunted by the reality you would have to face. Hurt settles inside your bones and you shift uncomfortably ─ trying to make room for everything all at once.

You're scared.

You feel so alone.

You don't want to be alone.

You tug at his sleeve in worry and concern.

"Shin?"

He covers his face with his arm, turning away even further.

You push yourself further away from him, eyes wide at his rejection.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I'm so sorry. I thought you would've wanted ─"

He turns at your words, reaching for your wrist in a panic, tugging you back into him ─ to keep you close, to keep you near.

"Please," he pleads.

Just a moment. Just a second more.

He'd fall to his knees if he had to ─ fall and repent for all the confusion he's caused you, for all the unnecessary grief he's given you.

"Please don't go."

You nod slowly at the seriousness of his tone ─ at the desperation coating his words. He turns around to face you fully, fingers gripping your wrist just a little tighter. Just a little closer. Just a little more.

You wait for him to find his voice. His chest rises and falls ─ and with every bated breath, he tugs you into him further. When you're close enough, he presses his lips to your forehead ─ shaky fingers stroking your jaw, encircling your neck. His voice is raw when he speaks.

"Why are you apologizing, baby?"

He drags a hand down your back, nails digging into your spine lightly with every caress. Your chest is centimeters away from his. You fist the black of his t-shirt in your free hand, staring at him in awe and frustration ─ at his ability to soothe you; at your inability to read his mind.

"Do you not want the baby, my love?"

Your heart constricts and you worry that you might just cry again. He reaches down, pulling at your waist to seat you on his lap before he wraps his arms around you. His cheeks are tinged with pink, streaked with the runaway tears he'd miserably tried to hide from you ─ the overwhelming emotion he'd tried to keep from you.

"I do," you whisper.

His eyes soften and he holds you tighter, tucking your head under his chin. You hook your index finger into the silver of his chain and he waits for you to speak.

"I know you're busy with the shop, and I know your hands are full with Manjiro and Emma."

He holds you tighter, humming in response as he urges you to go on.

"And I know we don't know what we are."

He winces at the uncertainty in your tone, but lets you continue nonetheless.

You hide your face further in his chest.

"But I really want this baby, Shin."

Your lip quivers and your eyes water, and you curse the rush of hormones coursing through your veins ─ the maternal need to protect this child, to favor it above all else.

"Then we'll have the baby. It's okay. It'll be okay."

"We?"

He wipes at your face with his palms ─ kissing each cheek once, kissing your throat and jaw right after.

"I want you, and I want the baby. Don't deny me of that."

You stare at him for a moment. He stares right back. There was an exchange of hearts occurring before you ─ you'd hand him yours, and he'd hand his to you. He kisses your wrist, the seal to this contract, and you nod at his words, a willing promisee.

"Please take care of us."

He presses his lips to yours at that, whispering a chorus of "Yeah's" against your mouth. You let him kiss you ─ let him reassure you and tell you that he'd be here, that he'd always be here.

"With pleasure, baby," he groans against your teeth and you sigh at the feeling of his hips beneath you. He spreads his legs a little, just enough to press you to him and he curses as you gently bite at his ear. He grins, laying you down beside him, before he moves to turn off the lamp.

The clock ticks as your tongues meet in the dark, lips more than acquainted with each other. He slips a hand beneath your shirt, stroking your hip before he pulls back in remembrance.

"Why'd you wait so long to tell me?"

You tell him you were scared and that you didn't want to lose him ─ that you didn't want to have to choose between him or the baby. "Never," he whispers into the dark and you kiss his neck in silent appreciation. He listens to you then, as you talk about the baby. You show him your phone and the app that tracked your symptoms and medication; you show him the messages between you and your doctor, and the texts from your mother. You show him just how big the baby was supposed to be now and you laugh as he rubs at his eyes, feigning fatigue for the blur of his lash line. He kisses your joy, and you relax in his hold.

It isn't lost on you that his hands were avoiding the baby. He was nervous, but you knew ─ you knew that he wanted to touch you. A part of him was scared to initiate it ─ scared to solidify his place in your life, and in the baby's life, without your permission ─ without your approval.

You take his palm, laying it flat against your belly, as sleep kisses your toes.

"I won't show for a little while, the baby's too small right now. But ─"

Your eyes feel heavy, and your hold on his shirt relaxes as he gently strokes your belly. He wants to cry at the feeling, wants to lose his mind at the implication; at the realization that he'd gotten the girl ─ the only girl ─ and that she was falling asleep in his bed, carrying his child, with his hand on their love.

He's lost in thought, losing track of time with every tick of the clock, eyes glued to your figure as you sleep. He eyes the curve of your hip, caressing the skin of your thigh when he hears the door creak open.

"Shin-nii?"

He turns at the sound of Emma's voice.

"What's wrong, bug?"

"I heard noise. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, kiddo."

She's about to ask about you ─ if you were still here, and if you were okay too ─ when her line of sight falls onto your sleeping figure beside him. Her eyes sparkle and she clambers over to him, nearly tripping over her own two feet. He stops her before she can throw herself on top of you, sitting up to sit her in his lap instead.

He puts a finger to his lips, telling her to lower her voice. She mimics him, pressing her smaller finger up to her own face.

"Pretty," she whispers as she bends in his arms, gently stroking your head.

He smiles, kissing her forehead.

"She is, isn't she?"

She wrinkles her nose at him before she tries to get comfortable. He lets her wedge herself in between the two of you. He pats her back as she holds onto your shirt and you mumble in your sleep softly, moving to accommodate her smaller figure. He's not too worried about her falling asleep here, she was a gentle, easy sleeper. His mind drifts to his younger brother and his face falls, making a mental note to never let Manjiro nap beside you for the rest of your pregnancy.

Shinichiro shudders at the thought of him kicking you in his sleep.

He shakes his head, smiling in wonder at your relationship with his siblings, and he curses himself for not professing his love any sooner. He'd waited a long, long time for his three to become four, only for you to bring a fifth into his world. Should anyone take his lover, should anything take her joy ─ Shinichiro would carve through time itself, clawing at its numbers, ripping through its physics to hold you once more. If only once more.

The clock ticks. Once. Twice. Three times. A fourth. And as the arrows meet, as the two hands become one and their distance is no longer ─ Shinichiro closes his eyes at the fifth.

@georgyart a bit late but happy birthday! you’re so cute and precious I want to hug you