Motherhood [Abigail]
Mar 1, 2014 5:32:54 GMT -5
Post by Forrest Edwin Antias-Robertson on Mar 1, 2014 5:32:54 GMT -5
Forrest, if he had seen her thoughts and justifications, may have argued vehemently against such things. Single mothers were some of the strongest, and best, examples of upright parents he had seen! Time could be bent to allow her time at home! Simple messages in text, without using dozens of emoticons, would have failed to convey his message. The Pinsir Pokemorph truly believed this wonderful woman, with her inner strength, would have been an amazing mother. The man lacked a useful ability such as telepathy—the vestigial wings in his back were of little help in this matter.
The mandibles would do little. The odd eye would help not a bit. It was moments like this in which Forrest wished to have his voice returned to him. It hurt to merely have to listen. It made others enjoy his company, certainly, but made it rather difficult to give his all in assistance.
The man was left with little more than assurances without motive. Fingertips wished to wipe the tears away; the claws of Pinsr would likely do more harm to a fragile cheek than help. “That’s not true! Abigail!” The exclamation points were punctuated by wide eyes above his scarf. Where his bottom jaw would be, the fabric around his neck undulated with irritation. “I shouldn’t have spoken!” It was his fault. A child would have hope snatched away and be dropped back into the messy web of foster-care and paid families. “I think you would do a great job. You’d be a wonderful mother. : ) “ He could not leave the matter in such a state. Such a sudden realization, after months of planning, was nearly as unwise as making a decision to accept on the drop of a cap.
The last item in his hand, his favorite outfit in the entire cart, had ivory claws drawn across its front. The little smiling bug in its front, a Ledian, was given a few gentle strokes. The Pinsir Pokemorph was debating upon the site of their late lunch. Little cafes, while far from high-class in this area, served doughnuts, candy, and salads. No? The walking nibbler was not in the mood to eat? Was she truly accepting this situation? “No?” The plans shattered. His stomach gave a grumble. It is not as if eating by himself had benefit; he refused to eat in a public forum. His meals always departed in Styrofoam boxes.
Not so much as an exasperated roll of her eyes seemed to hail from Abigail at his offer for food. “I hope you feel better—“ It was the middle of the afternoon! It was not as if toddler’s needed a daily evacuation plan! The Pokemorph, making a noise deep in his throat, just nodded his understanding. “I will see you on Tuesday evening?” The keyboard beneath his fingers now stuck; half of those letters were double. The apology just made him shake his head. He waved it off, like a bad stench, before moving toward the train station.
It was not as if he could not use the exercise.
But not even the promise of food or sweets could make the woman smile. "No." The woman frowned as she headed out of the store. Don't look back. Don't look back. Looking back at broken dreams would only make the dreamer linger in their grief. "I'm not hungry." She added as she had fully exited the door, looking out in the mall. "I..I'm just going to go home. I have to get ready for work tomorrow." She'd also have to do something about the room she had prepared for the baby, a baby that wasn't going to be coming to her home. “Just think on it more—the baby--don't be scared. Most children can't really bite.” Her sudden change of mind bewildered him. It was not his place. His nose needed to stay away.
It was, truly, her choice. Forrest would leave her be. He gave a final chitin-coated wave as the bus pulled up at a surprisingly close stop. Why hadn't they marked this store on the map?
(Thread over ? <3)