Raise your weapon
I counted my toes.
Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen-
"I ran out of toes," I said, wriggling my littlest toe. I didn't know I could do that.
Liam looked at me sideways from his desk, warily. "Use fingers then."
"I don't want to use my fingers," I rebutted, spreading them apart and placing them over my exposed belly. My fingertips couldn't reach even midway to my belly button from the sides. I sighed.
Either I was tiny, or this was a big baby. Well, Liam is at least a foot taller than me. I arched back slightly, and I felt him rolling inside. I winced, feeling slightly nauseous, and smiled.
The first time I felt him move was when I lying on the floor naked, covered in cum while his good father stood over me, with that hunger in his eyes.
I had seen enough, heard enough to guess what was going on in Liam's brain as he looked down on me.
Then I felt a little kick. It was such a nonsensical thing, that if it hadn't happened again, I'd have thought I had imagined it. Suddenly, I felt ready. And Liam backed down.
After that, every time my baby moved, I would talk to him in my head. He was such a wonderful, interesting thing. He calmed me down like nothing had ever before. When I felt Liam too much, I turned my mind to my baby. He kept him out of my mind, at least, by giving me something to do.
I stepped off the bed, pulling the gown tightly around me. I placed my hands over Liam's shoulders. He tensed up when he felt me, so I massaged them until he calmed down, then ran my fingers through his hair.
"You're blond," I commented, suddenly noticing the roots of his hair. "I thought you were the odd one out."
"Mine is different from Alex and Bam's," he said, not looking up.
"Yeah, they're more sandy, this is way lighter... But that means you do your eyebrows as well," I said slyly.
"Yes." He sounded slightly uncomfortable.
"You're a sneaky bastard," I giggled. This was too good to pass up. "Wait a second- that means you look like your cousin Karl!"
The only time I had met Dr. Karl was at Liam's house that day when his mother made me stay for lunch. He had come with his wife, an icy-looking lady who had stayed quiet most of the time while he talked. Karl was a severe looking man, with almost the same sharp features as Liam and an even sharper tongue. I hated him on sight, and I was sure the feeling was reciprocated.
Liam snorted, still not looking at me.
"We're first cousins, that's why. Our fathers were twins."
"And Benjy?"
"He's my second cousin, but I grew up in their house for a while, so we just ended up 'being' brothers."
"Ah," I recalled. "No wonder Karl kept talking about genetics that day, I thought it was because it was his speciality or something. Am I going to be the one to end this rare gene pool? Oh no..." I fake cried, throwing my head on his shoulder.
He pulled me down onto his lap, and I settled, trying to balance myself by wrapping my arms around his neck.
"I think you're an improvement," he whispered, kissing my nose.
"Have you gone to the doctor?" I asked suddenly.
He looked away, clicking his tongue in annoyance. I hummed angrily, pulling his chin back. He now had a pained expression on his face.
"It's not necessary. I have it for sure. Don't you believe me?"
"Liam, I'm not saying that. You still haven't shown any symptoms-"
"I'm not going to wait around for symptoms."
"Your siblings are clear-"
"Have you seen my father?"
"Have you considered another diagnosis?"
"Don't you trust Karl?"
"From your story, he's the one that put this situation on you in the first place," I hissed.
"That's why I'm going to keep doing what I do," he replied. "Are you with me, or not?"
I stood up, crossing my arms. "What does it look like?" I asked softly.
He stared back, silent for a moment, then broke into a smile.
"It looks like I got lucky, for once," he replied.
He turned to his screen, and smiled again. "Oh. Make that twice."
"Really?" I asked, interested.
"Guess who's invited to attend the board of director's meeting tomorrow afternoon," he pointed at the screen, and I read the email.
"Hmm." I scanned the list of recipients then turned to kiss his forehead. "Liam... Please... Maybe you'll be lucky a third time?"
He laughed, but it was a sad laugh, and held my hands against my belly, and kissed them.
"Babydoll, I don't see the point of it. It doesn't matter if I'm lucky the third time."
The lamplight cast odd shadows over his face, accentuating the cluster of faint crow's feet stemming the corners of his downcast eyes.
Did anyone ever look at you, the way that I do? I wondered.
I traced his jaw lightly with my finger, grazing the darker stubble. He was always clean shaven; I had never seen him grow out his beard. The roughness sent little shivers up my hand, so I ran a thumb over the outline of his lips, and he bent his head back, lazily.
"What are you doing..." he muttered, but had an amused expression on his face.
"I'm looking at you," I said softly. "We get so caught up, I don't think we've ever sat and looked at each other enough."
"I look at you long enough. You don't need to look at me."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why?"
"Because you don't need to remember the face of someone who's going to die."
"Actually, your death sounds like a fine reason to start memorizing your face." I made my tone standoffish, but still felt my throat tighten.
Why did he do this to me?
Because now the only way to hurt you is by hurting myself.
replied his voice in my mind.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, and kissed his forehead. "Are you... Do you believe in hell?" I asked.
"Would you like me to be poetic about it?" he asked snidely.
