REJECTED.

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            the excuse flies from his lips, igniting a spark in her, one that can only be described as DISBELIEF. a scoff is tutted as she props herself up on her elbows & shoots him a deadly glare. he hasn’t done squat for his own baby & he’s complaining about long surgeries. ❛ seriously? i pushed a seven pound baby out of my vagina three days ago & you’re tired from your back-to-back surgeries? SERIOUSLY?! ❜ so wildly does she want them to be in this together, to complain WITH him about being exhausted from THEIR baby. she wants them to struggle together like they had in the past, except they were no longer struggling for that five percent survival rate, they were struggling for their daughter. ❛ ass, ❜ she hurls the insult over her shoulder as she flings the covers off & hops out of bed when it becomes evident that he certainly wasn’t going to do it. the insult’s blow, however, is lessened by the tremble in her voice. 

            moments later, izzie returns, motherly arms cradling the whiny infant. pajama-covered legs carry her to the bed before she carefully scoots into the middle & sits cross-legged. sliding a hand out from under the baby, she smacks the side of his stupid head once, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make him jump. ❛ get UP, alex, i mean it. you can bitch & moan all you want but you are GOING to hold our baby —— please. i didn’t not die & get pregnant for you to —— for you to ignore the baby we weren’t supposed to have —— ❜ her voice takes on a higher pitch now, the one that only possessed her right before the hysterics came. blame it on the hormones, but it’s been three freaking days & now she’s DESPERATE

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          jaw muscles grow taut beneath skin, eyelids pinching shut. he lays there, stewing in the invasive silence she has left in her wake. it’s somehow worse than her sitting here and chewing him out. it leaves him with the opportunity to reflect —— on his father, on his own personal shortcomings, on the very real possibility that he could ruin his daughter like jimmy ruined him.   (   what if he’s too hard on her when she doesn’t deserve it? what if she grows up to resent him? what if he’s a BAD FATHER, even with all his experience dealing with children?   )   he adjusts his position in the bed with a huff as if that might keep these thoughts at bay, punching at the pillow beneath his head to fluff it back up. it doesn’t work, but getting whacked in the head again does the trick.

             would you stop freakin’ hitting me?      alex exclaims. he is but a flurry of covers as he jerks out of the bed, left speechless at the change in her tone: no longer angry, but pleading —— begging him to get over his crap & just be the dad he should be. there he stands in his boxers and tank top, gazing upon the squawking bundle they made, weighted in place by the heavy sense of failure pressing down upon him without an answer for her.      i——i don’t…      mouth snaps shut again, hands finding his hips. he doesn’t want to admit to this, doesn’t want to have this conversation about his father, but he doesn’t know what else to say that’s effective enough to make her drop this.   (   because there is no excuse for him not holding his own child.   )      i’m tired, izzie. i——i’ve been working all freakin’ day and i’m tired.      voice drops so that he doesn’t upset charlotte.      i need to sleep. you shouldn’t——i don’t need you gettin’ on my case right now, alright? just leave it the hell alone, iz.   

 

atlas carries

today's the day my life begins. all my life i've been just me, just a smart mouth kid. today i become a
M A N.

the world

ind. pri. sel. alex karev
penned by sabrina
est. april 9th, 2016
#smartmcuth

dutifully 'pon

drafts: 20
asks: 15
starters: 13

weary shoulders

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previously bcttleworn