Tiffany’s car pulled into the driveway of a small, drab-grey house. Jessica pulled in behind her and got out, grabbing her stuff and running to Tiffany’s driver seat, where the young waitress was struggling to get out of her car. Jessica reached over and slipped her arm behind Tiffany’s back and under one of Tiffany’s arms. Keeping her other hand on top of the raven’s head so she wouldn’t hit her head getting out of the car, Jessica helped Tiffany out. Then the two of them made their way into the house, both soaking wet.

“There’s an extra towel in the bathroom and you’re kind of my size before I got pregnant, so you can use some of my clot–”

“I’m sorry!” Jessica blurted out.

Tiffany looked at Jessica, emotionless.

“Don’t be. It’s nothing,” and with that Tiffany went to go grab Jessica some clothes.

Jessica felt awful. Tiffany obviously hadn’t forgiven her.

And Tiffany?

Well she felt awful as well. She knew Jessica meant well and it really hurt her to have to treat the first person who was nice to her in so long with such coldness. But Tiffany gets attached easily, and she knew that about herself. Jessica wouldn’t be here for long; it wouldn’t do to become attached to an already fading breath of wind.

Tiffany came back out with Jessica’s clothes and found Jessica sitting at her small dining table.

Tiffany winced. How must this look to Jessica? The lack of furnishings, the lack of heat, the cracks in the ceiling, the holes in the walls, the drab and depressing horribly chipped paint job that left plaster exposed in places, and Tiffany’s clothes. The ones she was even now going to hand over to Jessica. A long baggy white t-shirt, this was the one with the least holes in it, and a pair of sweats that had been washed so many times it was almost pilled-up entirely.

Jessica had money. That was clear. Her car, her clothes, her haircut, and even the way she held herself. It was all telling that the woman was quite stable economically, a stability Tiffany had never known.

So, how would all this appear to Jessica?

Tiffany felt her face flush in indignity at the shambles that was her life. But she steeled herself. She had done the best she could with what little she was given. She hadn’t done anything wrong that anyone should have the right to look down on her. Tiffany scrunched up her nose in concentration, trying to keep herself calm and composed.

“Here are the clothes. Bathroom is the door to your right,” Tiffany said while extending her hands to give Jessica the clothes, making sure to keep her voice steady and uncaring.

“I’m not showering,” Jessica stated bluntly.

“What?! You’re all wet!”

“As are you. I’m not showering until you’ve showered.”

How could Tiffany explain to Jessica that there really was only enough hot water for one person in this old rundown shack of a house? How could Tiffany so blatantly flaunt her misfortunes to a woman she had met just hours before?

“I don’t need you to take care of me. I may be pregnant. I may be alone. But I am not helpless and I don’t need your pity, your sympathy, or your protection.”

“I’m not protecting you. I’m protecting your baby. I’m not showering,” Jessica stubbornly said in a monotone.

The woman wouldn’t give in. So Tiffany came clean rather than have Jessica find out the truth moments later and make the situation even more embarrassing for the both of them.

“There’s not enough hot water.”

“Then all the more reason don’t you think? I don’t care. I’ve said my peace. I’m not showering until you’ve gone.”

“…”

“…”

“I have some books in my room, I’m sorry I have no TV. Try and make yourself comfortable,” Tiffany left without another word.

Once Tiffany had gone, Jessica removed her wet clothing until she was only in her tank top and her boyshorts, which were thankfully dry. How awful would it be to shower and have to sit in your own wet underwear afterwards? And there was no way in hell Jessica was going to ask Tiffany for underwear. No way in hell.

Jessica figured since both she and Tiffany were girls, it really wouldn’t matter that she was half in Tiffany’s living room. After divesting herself of her clothing, Jessica moved to the couch and pulled out the bed; she would rather she do it herself than to have Tiffany do it when she came out from her shower. Jessica was seriously afraid the girl would go into labor at any given time. If Tiffany were Jessica’s, she would be on bed rest and waited on hand and foot until the baby was born.

And why the hell would you think that? How in the world could she be yours Jessica Jung? You barely met the girl and you’re thinking about her in terms of ‘yours’ already? Get a grip on your cucumber-scrambled brain you dimwit!

Jessica was still chastising herself and trying to figure what it was about Tiffany that had such an interesting effect on her when the object of her confusion stepped out of the bathroom.

Tiffany was dressed in a really wide, loose, white t-shirt. But even then, it just barely covered her pregnant belly. A pair of baby blue stretchy shorts completed the girl’s sleepwear.

Jessica was mildly aware that she was staring.

There was something so innocent and lovable about the younger woman. Something in the way she stood there in clothes that barely fit her that did something to the brunette. Jessica wanted to be at her beck and call, to massage Tiffany’s cramping legs, to go out on midnight food runs for the her random cravings, to hold the her hair back when she threw up, to be at the receiving end of mood swings that left her with whiplash, to take the Tiffany as a whole. Take everything that was Tiffany, because even with all those infuriating qualities characteristic of pregnant woman, Jessica knew she would be happier with a pregnant Tiffany than with some other girl in a clean-cut relationship.

“Jessica? Jessica! I’m done, you can shower now. And don’t say I didn’t warn you about the warm water. I’m feeling a little tired so I’m going to turn in for the night,” and just like before, Tiffany didn’t wait for an answer from the brunette and disappeared into her room.

Jessica roused herself and went to go take a shower.

It was freaking freezing. The water seriously was no joke. Jessica almost wished she were back out in the rain. Even the rainwater was warmer than this! But…making due with what she had, Jessica showered at record speed and dried herself off. She put on the t-shirt Tiffany had given her and opted to not wear the sweats. She didn’t usually sleep with pants on at home anyways.

Coming back out, she was surprised to see that Tiffany had left a duvet out for her. Jessica’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. She walked silently to Tiffany’s room and eased the door open.

Tiffany lay there on her side, underneath a flimsy blanket. The younger woman was shifting around restlessly, and whether it was because she couldn’t find a comfortable position because of her extreme-pregnant-ness or because she was cold underneath that joke of a blanket, Jessica didn’t stay to find out.

Cursing under her breath at Tiffany’s stupidity, Jessica stalked out and retrieved the duvet. She stomped angrily back into Tiffany’s room, making no effort to be quiet.

“You’re an idiot,” Jessica announced as she whipped the flimsy blanket from Tiffany’s body. Throwing the blanket over one shoulder, Jessica quickly laid the much thicker and warmer duvet on the pregnant woman.

“It’s colder out in the living room,” Tiffany tried to explain.

“And you’re freaking pregnant!”

“Why do you keep saying that?!”

“Why? Does your own pregnant state offend you or something?”

“You say it like it’s the only reason for me to be alive!”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Well that’s how I see it!”

“Well you know how I see it? It seems you care a lot more about trying not to flaunt your misfortunes more than the welfare of your baby. And that’s complete and utter idiocy.”

“I –”

“You have nothing to say to that. Just sleep for goodness sake!”

“You’ll freeze to death out there.”

“And that is none of your concern. You seem to be trying hard not to care anyways. But curiously, you seem to keep forgetting that don’t you? Whatever, I don’t need you to care for me. I need you to care for you.”

“Wait!”

“What now?”

“I just…ugh! The bed’s big enough!”

“So?”

“Do you really need me to say it out loud?”

“No. I’ll sleep outside. I have a conference to attend to, so I’ll probably be gone before you wake up tomorrow. Goodnight Tiffany.”

Tiffany didn’t know what made her do it. Just moments before, she had wanted to keep Jessica out. Keep the woman from worming herself into her mess of a life. But her brain had a sudden severe miscommunication with that stupid aortic pump in her chest.

“No! Please…it’s…it’s still kind of cold…even with the duvet…” Tiffany hated how vulnerable she sounded, like some pathetic little girl asking for her cold, aloof father to love her.

Jessica stopped at the doorway and turned to look back at the pregnant woman laying on the bed. All those feelings she had when she saw Tiffany come out of the shower came back with ten