According to You (part 12)
Words: 1.8k
Summary: You break some major news to Misha.
Warnings: None really; mild language, stressed reader
A/N: This chapter feels a little choppy to me, but I promise it wasn’t as rushed as it seems.
Feedback motivates my writing muse, so an extra thank you to everyone that leaves some. If you'd like to be added to my tag list, just shoot me an ask or DM because Tumblr doesn't always notify me of comments and reblogs.
Misha is single in this series and, as always, no hate or disrespect towards Vicki or their family.
——————
You settled into your new routine easily after a few weeks of living in your new place. Working at the café, spending time with Misha, and even the occasional lunch date with co-workers; it all felt so normal. It was hard to imagine how you managed to stay sane being trapped like a caged bird by Paul for so many years.
“Hey babe.” Misha said sleepily, pressing his body against your back and kissing your temple. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
You hadn’t even realized you were staring blankly out the window. Spinning around, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. “You, me, work; just… life.”
Ducking his head down, he pressed his lips to yours; the kiss quickly turning heated. The taste and feel of his tongue rolling against yours still managed to leave you breathless. One of his hands threaded through your hair while the other wrapped firmly around your waist; pulling your pliant body against his.
As much as you wanted to stay in Mishas arms all day, you forced yourself to pull away from him. “Mmff… I have to get ready for work.”
“I don’t want you to.” Misha pouted while playfully trying to keep you from wiggling free. “Call in sick. We can stay home and play doctor.”
You laughed heartily; briefly distracted from attempting to escape. Misha took the opportunity to pull you close again; kissing along your jaw and neck. Before he was able to make your knees go completely weak, you managed to remember that you didn’t want to be late for work; again.
“I have to get ready.” He let you pull away this time as you patted his cheek. “We will continue this tonight.”
——————
“Mish?!” You yelled as you entered you apartment only a couple hours after leaving for work. “Are you still here?”
He scooted around the corner to ask what you were doing home so early, but understood immediately upon seeing your pale, clammy skin and the ‘I hate everything’ expression on your face. “Hey, come here and sit down.”
You dragged your feet to the couch and plopped down with a groan. “You should probably go. I don’t want to give you whatever I have.”
“Have you eaten?” He asked, ignoring your suggestion. “I have my cure-all soup at home in the freezer.”
“Ew, no.” You were starving, but the idea of food made you want to wretch. “I don’t know if I could even keep it down.”
Pulling your shoes off and lifting your legs in to the couch, he only smiled softly and kissed your forehead. “You should try. I’ll be right back.”
Upon returning, he found you sitting in the kitchen munching away on a baguette you had brought home from work. “I think I just needed to eat something.”
“Told you.” He said with a smirk as he opened the ziplock bag and began heating the frozen soup on the stove. “You should save some of that for your lunch here.”
Standing up, you kissed him on the cheek and smiled brightly. “You’re too good for me.”
——————
Over the next week, you began noticing an odd pattern. If you went longer than a few hours without eating, you’d become annoyingly nauseous; but as soon as you ate something, you’d feel normal again.
“Your probably knocked up.” Your co-worker Emily said with a laugh.
“That’s not even funny!” It really wasn’t, but you weren’t going to get into details with her about it. “Plus, that’s not even possible; I’ve been on birth control for years. Maybe I’m just getting old. I’m not 20 anymore.”
Emily shrugged and changed the subject, but now the seed of doubt has been planted. What if you were pregnant? How would Misha feel about it? You had only officially been together for a short time and he was already in his early forties; surely he didn’t want a baby disrupting his life even more than you already had.
You decided to push those worries aside for the moment. You had been on birth control even since Paul insisted several years ago after… what happened and there hadn’t been even a scare since then.
——————
A few more weeks passed and you let your worries dissipate. Your appetite had increased, but you chalked it up to stress. Every potential symptom had a logical explanation, therefore there was no reason to worry.
Work had been difficult one particular day; short staffed and busy. You still managed to eat lunch, but you had been dreaming of the leftover pizza sitting in your fridge. The walk home was short and you practically drooled the whole way.
Walking inside, you headed straight for the kitchen and froze in your tracks at the sight of Misha shoving the last bite into his mouth. “Hey, how was work?” He asked while chewing on the very thing you had desired all day.
“You…” your voice cracked unexpectedly. Tears were spilling down your face before you even had a chance to finish your statement.
Misha rushed over to you, assuming the worst; that you had seen Paul. “Woah, Y/N, calm down. What happened?”
What happened? He ate your pizza; that’s what happened. “How could you?!” You shouted through tears and weakly tried to push him away. “I’d been wanting that all day and you just…”
“I’m sorry.” He still didn’t understand what he had done wrong, but clearly you were upset with him. The only thing he could do was wait until you were calm.
After a moment, you finally composed yourself. “Misha, we need to talk.”
His heart pounded in his chest at the seriousness of your tone. Were you not happy? Did you not want to be with him anymore? Did you miss Paul? “Ok. Let’s talk.”
“I need to go to the store.” You said abruptly. “I need to know for sure.” At the moment, you weren’t concerned about how crazy you looked; you needed your answer before dragging anyone else into your paranoid madness.
Misha had so many emotions swirling in him at the moment. He went from being happy you were home from work, to worried about why you were crying, to scared he had fucked up, and now just confused with your behavior. “Sweetie, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” You said, wiping the tears from your eyes. “But I have to find out. Just hang tight here and I’ll find out. I’ll be back in a bit, don’t go anywhere.”
——————
You paced in the bathroom in the Walgreens just up the street from your apartment. Three minutes is an awfully long time when you’re waiting for life changing news. Your phones alarm beeped; but you were almost too scared to look.
Finally gaining the courage to answer the question that had been plaguing the back of your mind for weeks; you peered down at the little, white, plastic stick.
The tiny digital screen showed one word that changed everything for you. Pregnant.
And odd calm came over you. The question had been answered. You had a new set of things to worry about, but you had an answer. Taking a deep breath, you tried to process what to do next. The obvious first thing that came to mind was to stop taking your clearly non-functional birth control and make a doctors appointment.
Misha. You had to tell Misha. This could be a dealbreaker for him and as much as it scared you to tell him, you couldn’t hide this; that simply wouldn’t be fair.
The walk back to your apartment seemed to take twice as long as it took to get to the store. In the short time, you played every scenario in your mind; ranging from him flat out leaving you to being ecstatic. Hopefully his reaction was the latter.
He was waiting for you outside; worry written all over his face. “Please tell me what’s going on.”
You hugged him tightly, praying that tonight didn’t end poorly. “Let’s go upstairs.”
——————
“I love you, Misha.” Your hands were clamped tight on his to keep them from shaking. “You’ve done so much for me and I can never thank you enough.”
Misha tried to maintain eye contact with you, but looked down and your hands when nerves took over. “Why does this sound like the ‘I love you but I’m not in love with you’ speech?”
“What?” Your eyes were wide with shock for a moment until you smiled reassuringly. “Misha, no. I am in love with you; completely. I’m sorry I made you worry, but that’s not what’s going on here.” Your smile faded as your own insecurities took hold. “Not unless you decide to walk away tonight. I won’t blame…”
It was Mishas turn to reassure you. “I’m not ever walking away from you. What could be so bad that you’d think that?”
It’s now or never. “I don’t know a better way to tell you this without being blunt. Misha, I’m pregnant. So if you don’t want to deal with that, I get it. It’s ok.”
“Pregnant.” Misha said calmly, trying to process the information.
You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes in case they were filled with disgust like you were bracing yourself for. The shuffling sound of him standing up from his chair pulled your attention away from your hands.
“I’m sorry.” You said, barely above a whisper. “This just complicates things more.”
He tried to respond, but couldn’t seem to find his voice through the emotion welling inside of him. Instead, he positioned himself on his knees, between your legs, and gently laid his head against your belly. His arms wrapped around your waist as he held you tightly; waiting until he could speak again.
After a moment, he was able to compose himself enough to look up at you again. The tears had caused his eyes to redden and get puffy, which only made his brilliant blue irises shine brighter. “Y/N, I love you and I hope you know there’s absolutely no fucking way you’re ever getting rid of me now.”
Relief washed over you at his overwhelmingly happy reaction. Internally chiding yourself, you remembered that he wasn’t Paul. He was the complete opposite and he loved you. Cupping his face in your hands, you encouraged him to sit up and kiss you.
Hidden inside your mind, behind the elation of starting a family with Misha, was one nagging question. What if the baby was Paul’s?”
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