(FIC) Months and Hours
Title: Months and Hours
Rating: PG
Pairing: Edward/Sally
Word Count: 597
Prompt: 'Hate is too strong a word'
Summary: Written for Daily Prompt over on Dreamwidth. Long after their tryst, Sally is left pregnant and with her thoughts.
Lying on her side in bed, Sally moved restlessly against the sheets in an effort to find a comfortable position. She longed for the day when she could sleep peacefully again without the kicking and shifting of the child she carried within her. After a few moments, she sat up to push the covers off herself, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She gave a backward glance at her husband who lay with his back to her. He stirred, but didn't seem to wake. Sally made her way to the darkened living room, switching on the lamp on the side table before taking a seat on the couch. She raised a hand to lay on her swollen belly, rubbing it absently before she sighed briefly. She knew whose child this was even if her husband didn't.
Her head falling against the back of the couch, Sally wondered at her own foolishness. She'd been feeling lonely then and even when her husband wasn't away, he made for poor company. Perhaps any man would have made do that day. But if she was honest with herself, and Sally wasn't sure that she wanted to be, that was far from the case. It would be better if she could chalk her transgression, and with whom, up to desperation, but she couldn't.
Sally couldn't decide whether to be more angry at Blake for his seduction or at herself for falling for it. He deserved her anger and her hate, and yet she hadn't been able to muster much after her initial tirade against him. It was something about how taken aback he'd seemed by it, how hurt. This had angered her as much as it had surprised her, and yet... Though whatever had sparked or been rekindled then had soon turned sour.
Despite his words and proclamations, she hadn't heard from him since that day. And since that day, her belly had grown in size along with her anxieties. But what was she to do? Ring him up and tell him the truth? Sally frowned to herself. It wasn't as though Blake didn't know. Her retirement from the Minutemen due to her pregnancy had made all the papers, a spike of interest in her otherwise waning notoriety. Blake wasn't a man made for domestic life. She'd know that then, but still, she... The hand at her side clenched into a fist. She couldn't stand the fact that whenever the phone rang, she felt a mix of trepidation and hope, wondering if she'd hear his voice after pressing the receiver to her ear.
Sally ran a hand through the curly hair that fell past her shoulders. There had been things that she had known with certainty before, like how much she hated Blake for what he'd done to her in that room. And how ashamed she'd felt clinging to her ripped clothes as Hooded Justice played both savior and accuser while she lay at his feet. But then the doorbell was ringing and Eddie was standing there on her porch, his smile bright yet apprehensive. But then he was pressing her back against the couch, and she was allowing it, spreading.
Gazing downward, she stroked across her stomach again, wondering if her ambivalence was something she could overcome. Wondering if she would give birth to a boy or a girl. If it would have his face or hers. She mused on how there were still some certainties in her life, like whether she could love this child or not. It was the reason why that made her hands tremble.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Edward/Sally
Word Count: 597
Prompt: 'Hate is too strong a word'
Summary: Written for Daily Prompt over on Dreamwidth. Long after their tryst, Sally is left pregnant and with her thoughts.
Lying on her side in bed, Sally moved restlessly against the sheets in an effort to find a comfortable position. She longed for the day when she could sleep peacefully again without the kicking and shifting of the child she carried within her. After a few moments, she sat up to push the covers off herself, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She gave a backward glance at her husband who lay with his back to her. He stirred, but didn't seem to wake. Sally made her way to the darkened living room, switching on the lamp on the side table before taking a seat on the couch. She raised a hand to lay on her swollen belly, rubbing it absently before she sighed briefly. She knew whose child this was even if her husband didn't.
Her head falling against the back of the couch, Sally wondered at her own foolishness. She'd been feeling lonely then and even when her husband wasn't away, he made for poor company. Perhaps any man would have made do that day. But if she was honest with herself, and Sally wasn't sure that she wanted to be, that was far from the case. It would be better if she could chalk her transgression, and with whom, up to desperation, but she couldn't.
Sally couldn't decide whether to be more angry at Blake for his seduction or at herself for falling for it. He deserved her anger and her hate, and yet she hadn't been able to muster much after her initial tirade against him. It was something about how taken aback he'd seemed by it, how hurt. This had angered her as much as it had surprised her, and yet... Though whatever had sparked or been rekindled then had soon turned sour.
Despite his words and proclamations, she hadn't heard from him since that day. And since that day, her belly had grown in size along with her anxieties. But what was she to do? Ring him up and tell him the truth? Sally frowned to herself. It wasn't as though Blake didn't know. Her retirement from the Minutemen due to her pregnancy had made all the papers, a spike of interest in her otherwise waning notoriety. Blake wasn't a man made for domestic life. She'd know that then, but still, she... The hand at her side clenched into a fist. She couldn't stand the fact that whenever the phone rang, she felt a mix of trepidation and hope, wondering if she'd hear his voice after pressing the receiver to her ear.
Sally ran a hand through the curly hair that fell past her shoulders. There had been things that she had known with certainty before, like how much she hated Blake for what he'd done to her in that room. And how ashamed she'd felt clinging to her ripped clothes as Hooded Justice played both savior and accuser while she lay at his feet. But then the doorbell was ringing and Eddie was standing there on her porch, his smile bright yet apprehensive. But then he was pressing her back against the couch, and she was allowing it, spreading.
Gazing downward, she stroked across her stomach again, wondering if her ambivalence was something she could overcome. Wondering if she would give birth to a boy or a girl. If it would have his face or hers. She mused on how there were still some certainties in her life, like whether she could love this child or not. It was the reason why that made her hands tremble.