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It’s Thursday. The day she’ll meet her dad again for what feels like years. They never once skipped talking or texting everyday, so more than a week easily feels like years.

She’s meeting him at a café near campus and anxiously waits by the table near the door so she can see when he arrives and he doesn’t have to walk too far to get her because she worries if his leg is still not okay. She gets her reassurance five minutes later when her dad strides into the café, not as much as hunching. He’s okay.

“Hi, dad,” she says, fidgeting. It’s awkward not to hug him so she moves forward and hugs him. “Hi, daddy,” she says again.

He stiffens but only for a second before his body relaxes and he sighs as he hugs her back. “I’m still mad at you, Sana. I’m here to yell at you.”

“I know.”

They sit and after he takes a few sips of the espresso she ordered for him—Sana hasn’t touch her latte—he finally looks at her in the eye with a hard gaze. He cuts to the chase. “So how did this even happen, Sana? What happened to the trust I gave you?”

She looks down to her twirling fingers, feeling tears prickling in her eyes. “I’m sorry, dad. I didn’t mean it to happen.” She already starts sniffling.

He leans back on his seat, looking outside of the glass wall. “You know what, let’s skip all this same talk.” He leans forward again. His posture is tough-looking, but his expression seems . . . broken. “You know why I’m against this, Sana. I have nothing against my grandchild, but if I get a say, I would never want you to get pregnant ever.” He exhales a resigned breath. “If I lose you too, I could never live anymore. There’s—“

“Dad. . .”

“—just no point.”

She moves to sit beside him, hugging his shoulders and cries on one. “Dad, don’t say that. Don’t say stupid thing like that.”

“You have to understand, if it wasn’t because of you, I would have died long ago with your mom. The two of you are the only reasons I live. I already lost one, I can’t bear losing another.”

“Dad, stop. I’m not dying, I’m pregnant.”

“You don’t understand my fear.”

“I do. But that doesn’t mean I’ll die giving birth too.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s been twenty years! Technology evolved. It has nothing to do with genes. Complications are not inherited, dad. Don’t ever think anything like that. You’re going to jinx me, and if I die, I’ll never forgive you.”

The barest hint of smile touches his lips. But it’s short-lived. “How far long are you?”

“Eleven weeks.”

“So you knew when you asked me if I’m pro-choice or pro-life?” Sana nods and he groans into his palms. “There’s a lot to take in, Sana. Your betrayal, for one. And the father? Mango? How about him?”

“His name is Mingyu. He’s good. He’s been taking care of me well.”

“You’re not dating him?” Sana shakes her head in embarrassment. “That’s really not making me feel any better about this.” He groans again. “How are the both of you going to take care of the baby?”

“We’d discussed about it.” They did, before they both drove back to campus. “He doesn’t allow me to take a part time job. All I have to do is . . . pregnant.” She still doesn’t agree to this, actually. She can work. She’s not invalid. “He’s taking a new job he won’t tell me about. It pays double he said.”

Sana asked him if he’s stripping and he gave her how-ridiculous-can-you-be face, so stripper and those jobs along the line are off the list. With no certificate and experience yet, she thinks the job that pays double that makes sense is—job that has something to do with the background of his family, which for him, takes a little of his pride. She feels bad for him. To be young and already has to father, while also still going to college . . .

And he loves bartending too. Too bad, he’s going to let that go.

“I’m still worry about Mint. Will he be a good father?”

Sana rolls her eyes. “Mingyu, dad.” She finally takes a sip of her latte, as she’s no longer feeling like she’s on edge. “And you know what? He already is one.”

They parted two hours ago. He’s still not okay with the whole pregnancy things, but at least it’s easier to talk to him about it now.

She walks to her eleven a.m class. She pays extra attention, in case the Professor would leave tips for final paper. She hasn’t even started making notes for any chapters and it’s worrisome. The pregnancy has been taking too much of her concern that she’s a little left behind in her studies.

At the end, class ends. Prof gives nothing.

Rabbithole.

Sana is out of her car, parked at the side of their dorm building, when she spies on Nayeon at the entrance. Standing in front of her, backfacing Sana, is Seungcheol. She knows that messy blonde hair and all black attire everywhere.

They look civil, which is surprising. He hands her a paper. Sana walks to them, figuring this can’t be scandalous talk. And by the time she’s close, she can hear Nayeon clears , her face is blushing red, then she says, “okay, so . . . thanks. Um. . . so, it’s weird talking to you without yelling, so I’m going to go.” She runs away.

“What was that?” Sana approaches Seungcheol.

Seungcheol turns to her, not at all surprised. He smirks and backs away from where he’s standing. “Exam tips.” He walks away after that.

Sana gapes. Wow, Nayeon is a lucky . She speed-walks to their room and when she arrives, Nayeon is sitting by her bed, frowning so hard as she reads what’s written on the paper.

“What the hell is this?” She mutters to herself. And then she looks up at Sana with anger marred her face. “Do you know Seungcheol gave me this exam tips here but I can’t read anything he wrote?”

Sana laughs, putting away her things as she watches Nayeon crumples the paper and throws it into her basket. It’s a score and it apparently triggers Nayeon to remember something.

“Are you free now?” She asks. Sana nods. “Want to come with me to watch basketball match at five?”

Sana’s heartbeat jumps a bit. She hasn’t seen Mingyu because he skipped the one class they shared and the thought of getting to see him does strange things inside of her when it should have been enough. She spent two days at his home for ’s sake.

She clears , unconsciously untying her hair bun and fluffs the curls. “There’s a match?” She asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yes, just friendly match between faculties. I need to take pictures for updates. Girls are fawning over this one new player named Kang Daniel so I have to get his profile.”

Sana doesn’t say anything. But the way she’s already in front of the mirror, retouching her make up, changing her clothes to cuter ones, spraying on one of her expensive perfume—it’s all the yes Nayeon could get.

It’s only 20-minutes matches for each set and not every faculty has college’s team players in their team so the matches are hardly competitive. Dull, even. But Sana’s heart is racing anyway, stupidly everytime Mingyu is in the court.

It’s the final match and Sana couldn’t give a damn that her faculty is winning. All she cares about is . . . Mingyu is sweating. A lot. And Mingyu sweating a lot is . . . illegal.

He’s sweating all over that his jersey sticks to his back, his arms glistening, his hair sticking everywhere. She in a needed breath—because somehow, at a point, she forgets to breathe.

What’s wrong with her? Her body barely gives response, it’s just her heart does. Can she still blame this on her raging hormones?

She looks away and tries to watch other guys—for a moment she notices a small-built player can move so freaking fast—but that still doesn’t impress her enough because her eyes still manage to find their way back to the Shooting Guard. It’s ridiculous, like she has never seen Mingyu enough.

In her defense, she has never seen him like this. In his jersey, athletic moves, looking all commanding and focus. She kept up with the college sports team stats—she follows their twitter—and she doid come to watch few matches, but it had never been about a particular player. Meanwhile, for a sizeable number of the girls in here, it has always been about a particular player.

The same particular player.

The realization hits her loud and clear. Literally.

“K to the I to the M to the M to the I—“

Apparently, cheerleaders teach spelling players name. Following every scores Mingyu makes, there are also some squeals by another group of girls at another set of bleachers. When Mingyu gets the ball—or heck, even when he does nothing but running—the girls chants his name like he’s some kind of rock star.

It honestly makes her feel queasy. She’s pregnant with a guy some girls don’t seem to mind getting pregnant with. She wonders if the news breaks out, would it make her special . . .

Or easy?

She tries to sit perfectly still. Her thoughts are getting disturbing. She wars with herself over whether she has to stay here or not. But then Mingyu scores a three-point-shot and it looks like a scene she would make a gif of and stares at for five minutes. And for the life of her, she can’t make herself moving after that. All she can do is keeping her eyes on him, following his every moves.

This is getting ridiculous and she needs to physically stop herself so she tells Nayeon she hates the noise (which is true) and leaves.

Sana is drooling over food account on Instagram when the match is over and everyone scatters around, leaving the area. She’s sitting in her car, waiting for Nayeon, who she thinks will stay longer harassing the players for updates—are you dating someone right now? Is that a new muscle? Can I take picture of it? Explain me what does this tattoo means?—those kind of things. She’s maddening.

A message pops in and the name completely takes her mind off the fat cheeseburger on her screen.

Why u didn’t stay

Her eyes bulge. Mingyu noticed her? Among all those people?

It’s noisy. I’m still here tho waiting for nayeon

He doesn’t reply anymore and Sana is scrolling the food posts until she reaches the posts from last year when someone taps on her window. It’s him. Still sweaty, still in his jersey . . . still breathtaking.

She’s a little wobbly when she exits the car, feeling a little close to nervous. Then she wonders, why is she even nervous? It’s just Mingyu.

Standing before him, she realizes again that he’s very tall. Back then, when he’s towering and hovering over her, he was intimidating as hell. How she hated him back then just by being vertically gifted.

Now . . .

Now, he’s tall. He’s towering, crowding . . . consuming.

She realizes then, that she’s not nervous. It’s just her heart, beating too wildly fast for stupid reason she still refuses to acknowledge. It wasn’t like this two weeks ago. Heck, it wasn’t like this for two years. This is probably just fleeting.

“Are we engaging in an unannounced staring competition?” He’s smiling.

Sana’s recovery is immediate. She doesn’t realize she’s been staring mutely at him for far too long.

“Sorry.” She clears and when she speaks again, she sounds shy, which is so out of her character. “You blinked. I win.”

He chuckles. “You blinked twice. I win.” He tilts his head to the arena. “We won in there, too.”

“Congrats. You want my treat?”

“Sure.”

“You know, a gentleman would say ‘nope, my treat.’”

“Do I look like a gentleman?” He gives her a teasing grin. “I’m kidding. Of course, it’s my treat. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Don’t you supposed to celebrate with your team?”

“Nope, it’s not that important match. Besides, I like girls more.”

She rolls her eyes. She gets the memo alright? She also gets it that girls like him too and she would like to be no part of that, like she managed to for two years. “I think I should just stay in tonight. I’m left behind in my study so . . .”

“Me too. Do you want to study together? I’m not working tonight.”

Her heart jumps eagerly in response but she shows none of it. “No. I’m staying in and you can’t go to my room.”

“Then we can stay in at mine.” Her eyes bulges and he’s quick to explain. “I mean, I have the whole room to myself. The guys might stay out tonight, but I’m pretty sure Wonwoo will be there so no worry about staying alone with me. I’ll pick you up?”

She swallows. Wonwoo will be there. Her past-crush who just so happens to be the housemate of the father of her baby, who is taking over a lot of her thoughts and her feelings lately.

Smart thing to do is to refuse—to avoid, but Sana is hungry right now and hungry makes her stupid so she agrees.

Nayeon questions as Sana is stacking her books inside her backpack. “Studying?”

“What’s with that tone? Yes.” Sana avoids eye contacts, packing some snacks into her bag too. Now the bag looks huge, like she’s about to run away or something.

“What’s going on with the two of you? I doubt people who try to befriend each other already as close as you two.”

“We’re not close. We’re done friending. We’re friends now.”

“Uh huh.” Nayeon folds her legs, sitting up straighter on the bed. “Truth or Dare?”

Sana knows exactly what Nayeon wants. She wants the truth. Typical Nayeon. So Sana picks : “Dare.”

“Okay. Tell me what’s going on with you and Mingyu. The real deal.”

Sana swings, finally has the guts to look at Nayeon in the eye. “That’s Truth! I picked Dare.”

Nayeon shrugs. “Well, I dared you to tell me the truth.”

Sana is already quick on slinging her bag and heads to the door. There’s no way she’ll tell her the truth. Someday. Someday she will. Or maybe her growing belly will. “Until you tell me what exactly is up with you and Seungcheol, we’re not talking about any of this, ‘kay? I’m late, bye!” Then she bolts.

“This room is bigger than I remember.” She takes a cautious step in. The room is clean and not the kind of trying to be clean and hastily straightened. The bed is unmade but that’s it. Overall, it doesn’t seem Mingyu is a slouch.

He chuckles as he closes the door behind her. “I don’t think you had time to look around. It was dark and we were, you know, busy,” he laughs when her face turns red, “and by the morning, you fled, so fast it’s almost rude.”

“You kicked me out, dude.”

He makes a face, taking his books and throws them to the middle of the bed. “I didn’t kick you out. You were already making a leave and I only asked you to leave faster.”

They both laugh.

Sana puts her bag-pack on the bed. “We’re studying on the bed?” There goes the stupid heartbeat again. It’s kicking in and fast.

He shrugs, already taking his side. “I study on the bed. You?”

“Me too.”

“Cool, then. It’s king, fits six people your size. We can make a pillow fort in the middle if you want,” he jokes.

Sana pulls out her stuffs, trying to busy herself. She puts it down one by one—book, notebook, coloured pens, highlighters. “That’s fine. You can’t make me pregnant anymore, I’m already pregnant.”

He laughs softly, making himself comfortable. “Then there’s no problem.”

They end up not studying after all. Typical.

She told him about her meeting with her father. He told her vaguely about his mysterious job.

Now he’s leaning on the headboard, reading on her pregnancy guidelines handbook she somehow happened to bring. “So, you mean, even if we scan the baby on the next appointment, we might not get to see the gender still?”

“Yes. The gender is most probably developed by then, but sometimes the baby is shy.”

He pokes her ribs, making her squirm. “Who even is shy between us?”

“I know. I think Tom will have one hell of a personality.”

“She will be a handful, like you.”

“I’m not a handful.”

“Yes, you are. If Tom is a girl, I think you will fight her for the Barbies.”

She scoffs. “I have a feeling that would be you. If Tom is a boy, you will have all the excuse to buy over-the-top robots and tracks car or something.”

He shrugs, and Sana’s sure she’s right. She picks up her laptop. “I want to show you something.” She opens a website, it’s a mother’s board forum. Mingyu drops the book to his lap and leans in closer. “I’ve been reading things in this forum since last week. It’s quite . . . scary. Do you know babies in there?”

The look of horror on his face is priceless. So Sana adds, “they also cry.”

“Holy .”

She laughs. “I think it’s just myth. And I’ve been checking for some mother’s progress. It’s quite worrying.” She browses the photo. “This is a mother with three months old bump.” There is a bump. Small, but obvious. And then Sana presses her palm on her tummy. “I don’t have a bump.”

There’s a look of worry etches on his face.

So to console him, Sana adds, “But I have a blob. I don’t know how to call it, but . . . um, do you want to touch it?“

He’s quick to change his sitting position and gives her his hand. She takes it and brings it to her tummy where she can feel a tiny, round blob. She presses lightly on his fingers and runs them across the blob.

“Wow.”

“That’s our Tomato.”

He laughs and excitedly sitting on his heels before running his fingers on it again. He doesn’t say anything but his expression tells her a lot. “I’m already so in love, is that weird? It’s just . . . it’s barely a baby yet.”

“Same.”

He removes his hand and sits back against the headboard besides her. For a while he’s just sitting there quietly, staring into the distance. Sana removes her laptop and she doesn’t know what affects her from that little physical bond they shared but she brings herself to curl besides him. This is the kind of time she thinks it is when she reads that pregnant woman needs some TLC—it’s usually random but the urge will be strong. She takes his arm, hugging it and he lowers his shoulder to accommodate her head.

And they sit in silence.

She doesn’t know how long has passed before he speaks, “I’m so glad the mother is you, have I told you that?”

She smiles, happiness blooming in her. She’s been having a little of mood swings and emotional distress lately, especially because of final exams looming around the corner, but this moment—is the calmest and the happiest she’s been in a while.

And to think that she came here to study . . .

“I’m so glad the father is you, too. Can you believe it? There was one time I kept questioning, why it had to be you? Now I don’t think there’s a better guy to be Tom’s daddy.”

He leans his head on hers. “I used to think that too. Then I realized, if it’s other girls, god knows I might be married by now or move in with her or something.”

“I guess in my case, other guys won’t keep us. I thought you will too. I actually hoped you will. But you didn’t.” She smiles for a second and then furrows her brows, face scrunching up. “Are we being cheesy? And speaking of cheesy, I’m hungry.”

“Later. I like this moment.” He takes his phone and out of nowhere opening the camera app and angles his phone up for a selfie.

She hides her face in his shoulder, whining. “I don’t have make up on.”

“You look good to me. Come on.”

In defiance, she sinks her teeth into his shoulder. Snap.

He winces, frowning at the shaky photo result where his face crinkles and his mouth opens in a gasp of pain. “Did you just bite me?”

She bites him again.

“Did you just bite me again?”

“I’m hungry.”

He scowls when she gives him a toothy grin and then he brings up his phone again. “One more, baby bird, nice one. Then I’ll feed you.”

It must be some kind of joke because her food aversion isn’t that horrible. But the moment they reach the kitchen where they found Wonwoo is having some cheese-bacon waffle, her hungry stomach turns upside down and she rushes to the sink without thinking as bile reaching up .

She pukes. A lot.

Mingyu rushes to her side, rubbing her back, saying stuffs she can’t hear.

When the nausea subsides and she looks up to Mingyu wiping with a napkin, they both then turn to a wide-eyed Wonwoo. It says a lot because his eyes are small.

And then he asks, almost stuttering. “Is she pregnant?” He doesn’t ask Sana. He asks Mingyu, and that’s for a reason.

Because he already gets the clue, and the way both Sana and Mingyu stands still and can’t deny it, it’s pretty much a confirmation.

In shock, the waffle drops from Wonwoo’s hand, and Sana sees the piece of bacon coated with cheese between waffles.

She pukes. A lot more.

a/n i'm sooo sorry for this mess. i'm very lacking of inspiration but i forced myself to write bcs it's been a month and me forcing a write never end up satisfying. 

and this is a little long too than average.

but here are Tom's parents lol! I've been obsessed with saving headers lately idek why. (credits to the owners)