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He never imagined he would be doing this. For any reason. But nonetheless, here he was. Walking back from the shop at 5 am with a bag of pears.
Pears. The most disgusting fruit in existence. They were squishy and runny and completely terrible. He hadn’t had as much as a bite of one (while in his right mind) in over three hundred years. Yet, here he was, walking down the pavement, dressing gown flapping in the wind, with a bag of pears, at much too early in the morning now that he was human.
But he had no right to complain. Rose was going through so much more: morning sickness, mood swings, bloating, having to pee every 5 minutes.
Reaching the steps of their flat, he ran up them quickly and slipped in the door. Sitting on the settee, Rose turned and smiled wide when she saw him. Or when she saw the bag in his hand. He’d stick with the first option.
She stood up awkwardly, large stomach getting in the way of any swift movements.
She gave him a quick peck as she took the bag from his hand.
She sat the bag on the table and took a fruit out. She ran it under the sink for a moment to clean it. Drying it with a napkin, she sat down at the table.
Finally, she got her first bite of her most recent craving. Bliss took over her face as juice dribbled down her chin.
If it was anyone else, in any other circumstance, he’d be repulsed. But this was a moment he never should get to experience. A domestic human life, with Rose, a baby on the way, all within a parallel universe?
He’d never been so happy about the existence of pears.