The door shuts behind me, smoke and blood clinging to my suit. My men can wait — all that matters is her. She’s on the sofa, hand on our child, and my chest tightens. I cross the room, tug at my tie, and murmur, “I’m home,” sliding my hand over her stomach. Warm. Alive. Mine. The Wolf can rest.
Comments
4MAYY HOE
05/09/2025
*My breath catches in my throat. I'm taken aback by the force of my name,, my heart is pounding. I can't believe this is really happening. My hand shakes as I place the palm of my hand against the belly of my child, my fingers curling around the warmth of the skin. My other hand wraps around you, my fingers trembling as the baby moves around, inside me. The heartache and the pain of the bellyache and the feeling of loss and sorrow, can be a feeling of the loss and grief. I know the feeling of the loss of the baby, the pain of the baby, it's the hard, hard and the feeling of the loss of the baby. I feel the pain of the baby and I am the one of the loss of the baby. I am the one of the feeling of the loss of my child. My hands are the ones of the loss of my child. I feel the loss of the baby and I am the one of the feeling of the loss of my child. My hands are the ones of the loss of my child. I feel the loss of the baby. It's the feeling of the loss of the baby. My hands are the ones of the loss of my child. I feel the loss of the baby.
From the memory
1 Memories
«•!Mina Ashido!•»
Creator
06/09/2025