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April 22, 2013
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A propane stove flickered to life with choked sputters and the flutter of a flame. Though cold fingers and soft footsteps announced three o'clock in the morning, Lovino was wide awake with a static electricity that thread through eyelashes and cracked lips. Lacing touches along the rim of a soup can, he's too distracted by the intriguing tongues of fire that lick at air, as if drowning and gagging through waterlogged lungs.

Upstairs, a woman is crying. He shakes his head, as he knows his wife's pregnancy must be a unfathomable pain that only she can bear.

And yet, something is wrong.

He strangles off the gas to the stove, hearing the prod and press of burdened footsteps. She's weeping - a terribly silent song of lamenting thoughts and sore eyes. Lovino turns around, facing (Y/N)'s trembling knuckles that press to her frosty breathings. Her lips curl around syllables, too tenderly spoken to understand. Lovino takes a step forward, and suddenly she's sobbing in his arms, all shakings and coughing fits.

She speaks of a doctor's visit that day, of complications, of a miscarriage. A pale flush of seawater sprinkles his face, slightly backing away from her. He grips her shoulders, pressing two foreheads together, his hands cupping against her cheeks. She leans into his gesture, setting her palms on his fingers, trying so, so hard to smile, but the spaces between chipped teeth are wide enough to see broken spirits and shattered constellations.

Suddenly, Lovino lets out a shrill sob, slamming a fist against hard kitchen countertops. Linen stitchings of broken porcelain skitter across his olive-and-lemon tinted skin, creating tracks of bleeding sorrows.

He buries screams and a scorched throat in two forearms, allowing a stiff spine to collapse into a deflated emptiness, before wrapping (Y/N) into his hollow embrace and eroded muscles, rocking and kissing her and telling her things will get better.

They have to get better.
I prefer to write about real-life issues, for a lack of a better word. In no way am I trying to romanticize a miscarriage.
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:iconxxonehellofagamerxx:
xXOneHellOfAGamerXx Featured By Owner May 12, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Wow.

Packs A Emotional Punch...

It's So Beautiful And Poetic.
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:iconshaliliathehedgehog:
Shaliliathehedgehog Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
It's really sad when parents have a miscarriage because parents always want to kids but when your wife has a miscarriage, everything has changed.
Reply
:iconlettheworldbreath:
lettheworldbreath Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2014  Hobbyist Artist
That's so sad and so beautiful too. I like it a lot. Is this just a one- shot or are you going to continue? I didn't think that you would but I just thought I would ask.
Reply
:iconthatonefic:
ThatOneFic Featured By Owner Feb 6, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
This is really beautiful... It walks a line between prose and poetry, and it packs a hell of an emotional punch. 
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:iconnekokitty35:
nekokitty35 Featured By Owner Jan 3, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
:iconsadfaceplz: :iconsadfaceplz:
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:iconbubbleteatia:
BubbleTeaTia Featured By Owner Nov 24, 2013
I remember when my mum had a miscarriage, she was very dull for a week while I was in therapy for about 3 years, it's because she had my dad with her to get her threw the pain like I had my awesome counselor who I still thank, your story really is dead on how people react to this sort of thing great job
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:iconwafflemonkey12:
Wafflemonkey12 Featured By Owner May 9, 2013
:iconemocornerplz: this is where i am
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:iconreversalimpact:
ReversalImpact Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2013
Welcome to my life. Full of sad fanfics and a bucket that is constantly being full of tears ;-;
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:iconelisavetaawesome12:
Elisavetaawesome12 Featured By Owner Nov 3, 2013  Student General Artist
that is where i live.
Reply
:iconhollyfowl56:
hollyfowl56 Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2013
the best sad story ever. i thought it would e funny. now sorrow is peeking into my heart. :(
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