Oh, shit. (Closed)

What. Agnes stared at her hands, resting on her knees as she sat on the edge of her bed. This has to be a joke. She told herself. And really, it had to be. There was no way she could be...pregnant. Pregnancy was for old women who had already lived their lives enough to commit to a little human and let them take over their world. Agnes wasn't ready for that. Agnes wasn't even aware this was a real thing! No, no. Maybe the healer just fucked up the tests. That had to be it. Agnes was not pregnant. No. Falling backwards on the bed, she stared at the ceiling and tried to think back on her life a few weeks ago. According to the healer, she was around ten weeks pregnant already, which meant she was so close to being done with her first trimester...which meant she was stupid for not realizing this sooner.

How did I go so long without noticing it? She wondered, because she couldn't be so ignorant. Looking back on it, it was all there. Firstly, she hated food when she'd eat half her weight before. There was the nausea, the excessive trips to the lavatories, the missing periods! The most cliché signs of pregnancy had been there all along, and Agnes was too stupid to notice them. She'd figured it was all part of the aftermath of her father's passing, because the people at St. Mungo's had told her that things such as lightheadedness and missing periods were part of the stress and emotional turmoil she was in at the moment, but nobody ever warned her against good looking gits and the possibility of conception. Hospitals had to give out those cheesy brochures warning young women about babies and STDs and that kind of stuff...so why didn't they take the time to give her one!?

However, regardless of the fact that she was still wondering how idiotic one had to be to ignore a pregnancy for so long, a new question came to mind: Should she tell him? But why should I? This is a terrible prank, after all. Except the more she though about it, the less it looked like a prank. It all fit so perfectly, the dates and symptoms. Still looking up at the ceiling, Agnes was faced with the terrible reality that yes, she was carrying a tiny human inside of her. Naturally, she was speechless. What the hell do I do now?! Her brown eyes widened, because she could hide it from him...but not from her family. She could just make up a lie and say she'd been eating too much junk food and gotten super fat, but to her mother...to Ansel...

And, what would she tell them, when they ask who the father is? She certainly couldn't tell them...because he himself couldn't and wouldn't know. He was getting himself back on track, trying to win Aoife, that telling him would be selfish and Agnes had enough of being the selfish one. Too many questions crowded her thoughts, drowning any light in the situation. There was no bright side to pregnancy. The girl got fat, nauseous, was constantly in need to pee, and the guy just walked away to woo his first love once again. Wow. "Oh, fuck Hunter." She muttered as she stood up before realizing that, well, that kind of thinking had gotten her pregnant in the first place.