Four weeks–only four weeks, but the roundness of her tummy appeared too perfected. It was nearing the curve. The swell wasn’t quite so obvious; it’s subtle and soft-spoken. Careful with her little love, Railyn traced her fingertips over the firm, curiously tough round. Her heart tugged at that. A smile curved around her lips like she’s won the world because in these moments she has.
“Good morning, little love. Going to be a good day, isn't it?” The omega whispered to her, Ian’s pup, then rubbed a soft circle, wishing she could just kiss her tummy, but she’s not that bendable. It’s a good day because she called Ian to meet her.
In record time she’s finished dressing, daring to wear a shirt that hugged her tummy just a bit, squeezing into black tights and slipping into loose flip flops b
