(no subject)
She composed the note in her head eight or nine times; she wasn't happy with the wording at all, no matter how she put it. Come see me, it's urgent, well, that sounded as if she was going to hand him some bad news. Kind of important was an understatement. A big deal sounded too glib. Hey, dad, I'm up in my tower...
No.
She stares at the papers in front of her, the results of her first OB visit with the doctors at S. She'd been treated courteously, kindly, and was amazingly pampered by the entire staff. Anything she asked for, within reason, she got. They weren't treating her as if she was just another cog in their faceless organization. Instead, she felt as if she were in the best possible care, aside from her best friend tending her. (Mental note: tell Eiko anyway ASAP so they can at least commiserate together over the problems of pregnancy.)
"Well, Immanuel, are you ready to tell your daddy?" she asks quietly, her hand back on her stomach. Again. It's been there a lot, recently.
When she's not crying. Or laughing in giddy joy. Hormonal? Hips? Well, she ALWAYS is, and this is even worse than normal. Oh boy oh boy. Boy, indeed. She's now thoroughly convinced that her darling angel, Immanuel, is on his way. Sure, it's earlier than he told her, but hey. The future never is certain. Immanuel Miguel.
Her worst nightmares now no longer involve burning to death. They involve something happening to the little grub inside of her. Miscarriage would wreck her. Although she tries to convince herself that it won't happen, since she's already met her son. The worst sort of circular logic.
Finally, FINALLY, she just goes with her first instinct, and sends the note off to Ramon, via PINpoint.
Darling, could you come meet me in my tower? I've got something important to tell you. I love you.
There. Leaving the 'kinda' off made it all okay. And 'very' is too much. This sounds...calm. Cool. Collected. Important, but not panic mode.
"Don't panic, woman," she whispers to herself, and her stomach does a flip-flop.
No.
She stares at the papers in front of her, the results of her first OB visit with the doctors at S. She'd been treated courteously, kindly, and was amazingly pampered by the entire staff. Anything she asked for, within reason, she got. They weren't treating her as if she was just another cog in their faceless organization. Instead, she felt as if she were in the best possible care, aside from her best friend tending her. (Mental note: tell Eiko anyway ASAP so they can at least commiserate together over the problems of pregnancy.)
"Well, Immanuel, are you ready to tell your daddy?" she asks quietly, her hand back on her stomach. Again. It's been there a lot, recently.
When she's not crying. Or laughing in giddy joy. Hormonal? Hips? Well, she ALWAYS is, and this is even worse than normal. Oh boy oh boy. Boy, indeed. She's now thoroughly convinced that her darling angel, Immanuel, is on his way. Sure, it's earlier than he told her, but hey. The future never is certain. Immanuel Miguel.
Her worst nightmares now no longer involve burning to death. They involve something happening to the little grub inside of her. Miscarriage would wreck her. Although she tries to convince herself that it won't happen, since she's already met her son. The worst sort of circular logic.
Finally, FINALLY, she just goes with her first instinct, and sends the note off to Ramon, via PINpoint.
Darling, could you come meet me in my tower? I've got something important to tell you. I love you.
There. Leaving the 'kinda' off made it all okay. And 'very' is too much. This sounds...calm. Cool. Collected. Important, but not panic mode.
"Don't panic, woman," she whispers to herself, and her stomach does a flip-flop.