eggressive

She found herself sitting at the small round table alone in her new apartment besides an open window, elbows braced against the surface as she cradled a steaming mug of tea between pallid hands. The shaman brought the liquid to her lips, taking a contemplative sip.

It was the intense insecurity that in all fairness her body would not be strong enough, her heart not brave enough, even though she had proven time and time again she could be. How could she be a good mother? What if he hated her? She didn’t know what it took to raise a child, in reality, still being one herself. Her own mother could hardly be a example she’d look to for guidance. When the door opened, grey eyes searched for the source of the sound and a boy- young man?- she had never met. She gave an apologetic smile.

❝Oh, hello! Um, you must be In-Inaho… It’s- It’s a pleasure to meet you… I’m Sera.❞ She fumbled out, eyes shifting to the ground as the young woman went to rest her fingers on her lap. She had yet to gather the up the courage to talk to anyone else, fearful of encountering new people at every turn, having to start all over again, and not finding comfort in any of the foreign faces.

Many things in life were bittersweet. She never quite fully believed she would stay in one place for very long. She knew it would never be the forever she wanted; never the forever she promised to another with pinkie fingers linked in childish ignorance. There wasn’t even a guarantee that he was the same person she had known in another lifetime.

"No, I'm Kanda Yuu." Inaho speaks with utmost certainty, pausing for a minute or so in order to let his words sink in before he finally corrects himself. Still, he doesn't turn his head to properly face him just yet, instead, he peers at her through the corner of his eye.

"I'm kidding. I'm really Inaho; it's nice to meet you as well, Sera. Or maybe I should call you mother?" He shifts his eyes forward again, opening the carton of eggs and selecting the first few from the left as he searches a cupboard for a pan. "Sorry for the joke I pulled just now, by the way, and I would be grateful for a cup of tea, thank you." The boy continues his search, unsure about why there just doesn't seem to be very much kitchenware around. Although he puts his mission on hold, thinking about what kind of stuff he should tell his new mother about himself.

Bonus for the bravehearts: reblog without looking, either.