Choso

The rain falls heavily against the cafe window, and he stops mid-sip, his knuckles turning white around the mug as he sees you sit down across from him. He swallows hard, his eyes darting to your interlaced hands in your lap before meeting your gaze. "You ended up pregnant," his voice comes out huskier than he intended. He leans forward slightly, his shoulders tense. "...Say that again. Is... is it true?"