She was resting on her stomach, arms splayed across to silken bedsheets with a complete air of laziness. Idly, Minatsuki dragged her nails across the light sheets, creating slight marking patterns along the bedspread which she then proceeded to erase with a swipe of her palm. God, she was bored, and in all honesty her stomach had been acting up for
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"Mixed up the rooms." Not quite the truth, but close enough for comfort. The smoke from his cigarette curled up toward the ceiling. He took another two or three steps inside, against his better judgment. In fact, against all his intentions, period. "How are you, Minatsuki?"
(OOC: Augh, couldn't resist ending up with someone just as unenthusiastic about it as him. >.> How about option b, but he doesn't know? Yet, at any rate, haha.)
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Minatsuki was now quite sure this...kid was going to be a disaster. What with her branch of sin - which was by no means hereditary as it quite possibly was contagious she supposed - and this whole angel business, she wouldn't be surprised if it turned out...just plain weird. Weird and dangerous. She shrugged. "Can we...kill it after it's born?"
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To her other, more pressing question, he opened his mouth. Shut it. He wasn't a very moral person, but her suggestion went beyond what he was comfortable with, a flash of what might have been dismay spreading across his features. It wasn't as though he were attached to the prospect of having a child. No. Couldn't be, when he would have been fine with aborting it. No, not at all.
And really, it should have disturbed him far more that she was suggesting murder so casually. He exhaled, studying her face, looking for a sign of anxiety over her own suggestion, and not finding it offhand. "I don't want to do that."
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"Listen, shit head," the brunette snarled, huffing between hits. "If you're just gonna shoot down - every - fucking idea I have about what to do in this situation, then why don't you start suggesting some? Huh?" She momentarily wished for something a little more deadly to bash in the angel's face with. But at the same time...That'd mean she would be alone with all of this.
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"Adoption! Did that cross your mind?" Regrettably, it hadn't occurred to him beforehand. "This place is huge enough that I'm sure there has to be some couple out there that wants a child but can't have one." Whether they were desperate enough to want what might be a genetic disaster was debatable. "Sh- the child would be off our hands. I'd be all right with that. Would you be?"
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Smashing the pillow into the blonds face twice more, she smirked evilly, even if she was nothing but a confused mess inside. "I'm going to kill it. With or without y - you." Her voice broke at the last word and a sick sort of realization that she just didn't...want to ever have to become attatched to it. Never wonder how he was doing, or if he had blond hair or brown, or if his eyes were blue or brown, or if he had wings or a damn branch of sin... No, there was no want for that.
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Some of it. Not all. Not nearly as much as he wanted it to be. Like it or not, it was his, too, and for some reason, he didn't want it gone. Not like that. It went without saying that he'd never had a child. No proof that he could help create anything more worthwhile or lasting than a conjured wind or a healing.
Harried, he sat up completely, staring her in the eye. His hands went for her arms on reflex, scared somehow that she'd try something right there, on the bed. He had caught the slight break in her voice, not registering what it meant. Why was she being like this? "What's the matter with you?! We didn't want it, the least - the least we can do is make sure it has someone who does!"
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"Let go of me," she snarled, shaking her hands harder and - argh! "I said let go of me - you don't get any fucking say in this - you don't want it either!"
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So what was this? Why was he trying to save someone he didn't think he knew how to treat right? Be a good... parent to? He couldn't really want it that badly, could he?
"I don't know what I want." He let go, however reluctantly. "But I'll take it before I'll let you bash in your own stomach."
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"I'll stay. If you can still stand the sight of me." He never knew what to do when he made people cry, stepping back over to rummage in the nightstand until he found some tissues, offering them up almost as an apology.
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She slapped the hand clutching the tissues away from her face, following the move with a rather sudden jab toward his gut. However, the jab wasn't a punch - in fact, it wasn't even a slap. Minatsuki had made a grab for the front of the angelic man's shirt, fisting the material in her pale, clammy hand, using that to wipe her eyes instead.
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