And by the fact that the woman’s cool expression never changed, she expected the outburst before it even began.
“Fine? You want to know the damn truth?” Emerie bit out. “Yes, I’m jealous of you and your family because I’m infertile and can’t have my own. Do I want you to stop being yourself? No, not at all. However, it does hurt, and it just makes me regret what I did, even if it is what brought me here today.”
She took in a deep breath, and let the rest freely flow.
“All I wanted was five damn minutes to take a fucking breath. That’s all I wanted. To collect myself and be alone so I could piece together my thoughts. Yet, whenever I try to do so, Ingram follows me, or you do. I feel suffocated.”
Then, tears did well, and no amount of teeth gritting or willpower seemed to stop them.
A dam of them, and rambling words, had broken.
“And he keeps looking at me expectantly, and I want him to stop because I can’t do any of this for him. I like him, Mayumi. I can already feel it growing inside me, but I’m not going to be his bride. I’m worried me being here with him is going to make him start wanting that from me, and I’m scared of how that’s going to make me feel. I’m scared of hurting his feelings, or that he’ll find a way to convince me otherwise because he’s so sweet and caring and it just makes me want to give him the world. But, if he wants his own kids, then he needs to go find someone else and stop wrapping his damn tail around my ankle like he doesn’t want to let me go.”
“You could talk to him about it,” Mayumi cut in. “Faunus has the desire to make life, but Magnar is less inclined to do so after having one.”
“I don’t want to explain it to him,” Emerie admitted. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed or not, but Faunus and Ingram aren’t on the same humanity scale. Half of what I explain to him slips through the cracks, and I have to say it in different ways for him to get the basics. This is a really sore and tender spot for me, and I just don’t know how I’m going to do that without bursting into tears. He seems to think that if he wills things, it will come true. I’ve already tried to explain to him that Aleron can’t be magically resurrected to life, but he won’t accept it. If he manages to convince me to be his bride, and he pushes the desire for kids onto me, when nothing he does will change it, I think he’ll crumble me from the inside. I can’t be his bride if he wants it, because it’ll mean I’m not good enough, will never be good enough, and he will eventually regret tying himself to me.”
Mayumi’s mouth pulled to one side in uncertainty, as her features softened for Emerie. “Do... you want me and Faunus to try talking to him about it?”
“Oh god, fuck no,” Emerie groaned while covering her face. “I know it’s really selfish of me, but I... I don’t want him to change because of this. I feel like he is smothering me in his affection, and yet I crave it so damn much that I wish he would pull me into his arms and squeeze me until I disappear into dust. What if you tell him and he comes to resent me? I already feel like an outsider, and I just... I don’t think I could bear a second of being here if he wasn’t there to make it... better.”
She pulled her hands from her face so she could look down at them beseechingly.
“I don’t think I could handle it if he suddenly started to ignore me. Just thinking of it hurts. I think I’d run off into the Veil to escape and hope I didn’t die along the way.”
Somehow, Mayumi’s silence and lack of comforting reach was... soothing. It was exactly what she needed right now. Someone to just shut up and listen as she vented, someone to not pull her in for a sympathetic hug and coddle her like she was a child.
She had big girl problems. They weren’t easily solved or fixed with words or actions. They didn’t just disappear.
They were real, and valid, and unchangeable.
All that could be dealt with was how Emerie reacted to them, and how she outwardly showed herself. She couldn’t suddenly grow a second womb, but she’d always been hoping that someone would love her.
Not because they had to, regardless of it, but because she meant so much to them that it didn’t matter at all. She wondered if that love would be even more pure because it was utterly about her and them, with no expectations of adding to it.
Even if she made this choice, she knew in her heart she deserved unconditional love untainted by guilt just as much as anyone else.
She was just waiting for someone to give it to her.
She wanted it to be Ingram. She was too afraid of learning the ugly truth, and would rather live in a fantasy just a little while longer.
There’s a chance I could die when we fight against the Demon King. Is... is it wrong of me to want to hide it in case I do?
There was no promise of more, from either of them. If Ingram decided he wanted to ask her for her soul, she would tell him the truth because he needed to know. That it was the reason she couldn’t just come out and give it to him.
How he reacted would tell her what to do. What he said afterwards would either make her steadfast on her current path, or she would give in and just be his.
She hoped if that day ever came, that he would take her heart and her soul at the same time, and she would welcome it fully.
If he never did, never wanted to bond with her, then it was never a problem in the first place. She would have just been anxious and worried for no reason.
Considering how much he wanted Aleron back, and didn’t seem to care too much that Emerie could be sacrificed along the way, she had a feeling she knew where his priorities lay.
And it wasn’t Emerie.
What’s the point in telling him if it doesn’t matter anyway?
“My god, I’m complicated,” Emerie tried to laugh, cringing at her hands before looking up to Mayumi.
Her lips thinned in returned humour, but quickly faded. “You’re insecure.”
“Oof,” Emerie huffed. “That’s not nice.”
“Is it not true?” Mayumi answered, roaming her eyes down Emerie before coming back up. “If it helps, I have plenty of fatal flaws. I’m just lucky Faunus is foolishly attached to me for some reason. Honestly thought I’d die alone if it wasn’t for him.”
“Now you don’t get to die at all.”
Mayumi’s lips twisted. “Don’t remind me,” she grumbled while slapping her face into her hands. “Did you know I’ve only been with him for like nine months? Sorry to touch on a sore subject, but we’re already on our third child. At this rate, I’ll be the sole reason the world is overrun by hundreds of Duskwalkers. Humankind will go extinct before we know it.”
After venting and finally having a moment to collect her frantic mind, the subject didn’t feel so constricting.
She gave a weak but genuine laugh.
That was until she registered something very important. “Nine months?!”