The Non-Newtonian Newborn: Chapter 8 Preview
Porsche has Kinn drive. Arm doesn't need to under these circumstances. Kinn seems to realize that, since he gets in the driver’s seat without thinking twice and doesn't seem to mind when Porsche sits in the back with Arm.
“Everything will be okay,” Porsche says as Arm stares straight ahead, “I promise. You will have support.”
“So much support,” Kinn adds, “The baby will be added to the company health insurance at no extra cost.”
“Both your baby and Achara will have the best pediatrician as soon as we finish screening them and add one to the roster,” Porsche says, “When the baby is old enough, they can be admitted to the BEST private school.”
“They would probably get in anyway, with how smart you are,” Kinn says, “But we will make sure they have the best educational opportunities provided for them. The best tutors too.”
“And if Korn has anything to say about you keeping a baby at the compound, we’ll stand up to him for you!” Porsche says, “We’re your family, got it?”
Kinn nods in agreement, “We are in this together-”
“You’re the one who got me in this mess to begin with!” Arm snaps.
Porsche jerks back at the accusation, mainly because Arm doesn't accuse Kinn of anything, much less raise his voice at him. But here he is, glaring and fuming over this. But honestly, Porsche can't blame him. It is sort of Kinn’s fault.
“You can't get mad at him for talking to you like that,” Porsche whispers as he leans forward, “He's stressed out, and you were the one who asked him to accompany us. Don't reprimand him-”
“I'm not going to reprimand him,” Kinn says quietly, “I know it's my fault. I'm sorry.”
Porsche nods, “We’re sorry, Arm-”
“It's too late for an apology!” Arm tells him, turning his glare onto Porsche, “I'm mad at you too!”
Porsche gasps, “I wasn't the one who asked you to come! Be mad at Kinn! Not me!”
“Porsche,” Kinn says in a warning tone.
“It's true!” Porsche says, then tries to put a comforting hand on Arm’s leg, only for Arm to slap it off.
“Fuck off,” Arm mumbles under his breath, then holds his head in his hands. Porsche lets out a sad and guilt-ridden sigh, then reaches over and rubs Arm’s back.
“It's okay, Kinn,” Porsche says, “He's obviously stressed out. And remember what Niran said. He said some people show strong symptoms after breaking an egg. They get emotional, or overly sentimental, or have a lot of cravings and nausea. Despite this all working differently, the person who breaks the egg is essentially pregnant until the baby arrives one to five days later, depending on the moon cycle-”
“I am NOT fucking pregnant!” Arm says, pulling away again, “I always act like this!”
Porsche purses his lips, “...Okay.”
Kinn seems hesitant to combat that claim as well, but does it anyway, “...Arm, you tried to lunge at an old man.”
“He deserved it,” Arm mutters, then lets out a groan, “Pull over.”
Kinn immediately does what he's told and pulls onto a side street. Arm jumps out before it comes to a complete stop and Porsche is ready to go after him. Arm is clearly overwhelmed, but Porsche has never seen him like this. Who knows what he might do? But luckily, Arm doesn't seem to be making a run for it. He stops by a trash can on the corner, throws himself over it, and empties the contents of his stomach so violently that two pedestrians jump back and rush away.
“Fuck,” Kinn mutters as they watch him from the car, “I feel like such an asshole.”
“As you should,” Porsche says, “You forced our head guard into an unplanned pregnancy.”
“He's not exactly pregnant-”
“Look at him!” Porsche says, “He is one of the ones Niran was talking about, one who gets severe morning sickness and is miserable until the process is over!”
“It isn't even growing inside him,” Kinn says, “He may be throwing up due to anxiety.”
“Arm isn't an anxious vomiter,” Porsche counters, “If he was, he wouldn't have gotten the head guard position and become so openly adamant about staying on Tankhun’s team despite the promotion. He's a nerd and can be introverted, but he has balls of steel! And now he's pregnant!”
Kinn groans, “We’ve never had a pregnant guard. Pregnant girlfriends of guards, and pregnant maids and cooks, but not guards-”
Kinn quickly shuts up as Arm gets back in the car. Arm looks at both of them, appearing clammy, tired, and suspicious before letting out a sigh.
Porsche quickly digs into his pocket, “Here. You can just have the rest of the pack. In case you need to throw up again, you will have it.”
“I don't need to throw up again,” Arm says, sticking a piece of gum in his mouth before leaning his head against the window, “I need food.”
Porsche quickly bangs on the back of the seat, “Kinn, we’re going out to eat. Wherever Arm wants.”
“Hibachi,” Arm says, his eyes closed, “And sushi.”
“Expensive and sophisticated cravings!” Porsche says with an approving nod.
“They aren't cravings. It's just what I want.”
Again, Porsche isn't going to challenge Arm. Not right now.
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