43 | ☕Double Trouble ☕
Anya sat on the examination table, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped Atlas' hand, the contact grounding her even as her nerves twisted into knots.
She could feel the heat of his palm against hers, but she was squeezing it so tightly she was certain she might have been cutting off his circulation.
The coldness of the room only seemed to intensify her anxiety.
The sterile white walls felt too sharp, too clinical.
It was as though they were both being trapped in this tiny, sterile space, and yet the gravity of the moment—the reality that they were about to see their baby for the first time—pressed in on her from all sides.
"What if something's wrong?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, hoarse from the worry she couldn't suppress. Her eyes never left the small, black-and-white screen that sat next to the examination table, the monitor so still and blank that it almost felt ominous.
Atlas' grip tightened just a fraction, his large hand enveloping hers in a steady, comforting way that made her heart calm, even if only for a second. His gaze remained locked on her, calm and steady as ever, though she could feel the tension humming beneath his composed exterior.
"Nothing is wrong," he said, his voice low but certain, each word reassuring her more than the last. "We're just here to see our baby."
Anya swallowed hard, nodding slowly even though her mind was spinning.
She tried to calm her breathing, but it came out uneven.
This was their first ultrasound—the first time they'd see the tiny little life growing inside her.
The excitement was there, buried beneath the avalanche of nerves, but the fear... the fear made her chest tight.
She jumped slightly when the doctor entered the room, her attention snapping away from the thoughts swirling in her mind. The doctor smiled warmly, a welcoming expression that softened the sharp edges of the sterile surroundings. "Alright, let's take a look."
Anya nodded, her breath still too quick. As the doctor went toward her with the ultrasound machine, she couldn't help but feel nervous. She reclined against the examination table, bracing herself for the coolness of the gel that would be put to her tummy.
The doctor's hands moved expertly, spreading the gel across her abdomen with a smooth, practiced motion.
Anya winced slightly as the cold gel made contact with her skin, a shock of chill that made her shiver involuntarily.
But it wasn't just the cold—it was the strangeness of it, the feeling of the gooey substance against her skin, something she'd never experienced before in this way.
Atlas, watching intently, grimaced. His face scrunched in distaste as he eyed the gel, looking as though he was trying to decide whether he should comment or just keep quiet.
"What?" Anya asked, raising an eyebrow in his direction, her voice still tight with tension. She was grateful for the distraction, even if it was Atlas' obvious discomfort with the situation. "What's wrong?"
Atlas glanced at her, clearly torn between wanting to comfort her and being distracted by the experience. "That looks... unpleasant," he admitted with a slight grimace, clearly uncomfortable with the thick, translucent gel as it was spread across her skin.
Anya couldn't help but laugh quietly, the sound escaping her before she could control it.
The juxtaposition between his serious worry and her discomfort with the gel made her feel lighter, as if the moment still allowed for small, shared moments of fun.
"It's just gel, Atlas," she teased, her tone warm and affectionate. "It isn't like it's permanent."
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair next to her, his eyes still on the doctor as if expecting the process to somehow get worse. "I know, but it looks... weird."
Anya only smiled, squeezing his hand again, taking comfort in his constant concern, even if it was slightly misguided.
In that moment, with the gel spreading across her stomach and Atlas behind her, perhaps troubled by the circumstance but unyielding in his support, she felt the weight of what was to come.
Regardless of the pain or worry, they would be in this together.
The doctor chuckled softly, the sound light and comforting in the midst of the tension that had settled between them. "It's just a little cold, Mr. Valtieri," he said, amusement lacing his words as he looked over at Atlas, who still seemed disturbed by the gel's texture.
Anya couldn't help the quiet laugh that escaped her, despite the nerves still rattling her insides. "You're acting like I'm being tortured," she teased, her voice a little breathless with the mix of emotions swirling through her.
Atlas muttered something under his breath, clearly unwilling to let go of his discomfort just yet.
He seemed about to argue, but before he could, the room fell into an eerie silence as the screen suddenly flickered to life, lighting up with the grainy, black-and-white images that only deepened the intensity of the moment.
Anya's heart skipped a beat.
There it was.
The small, fuzzy shape on the screen—the sign of the tiny life growing inside her. Her breath caught in her throat, her entire body tense as her eyes locked onto the screen. She could hardly believe it, even as her gaze focused on the small, pulsing shape.
It was real.
But then, something strange caught her attention. The shape on the screen seemed to shift—there were two of them. Her eyes widened in confusion as she tried to focus, but the image was so grainy, so unclear, that she wasn't entirely sure what she was seeing.
Anya's heart skipped a beat, her mind racing. Her gaze snapped to the doctor. "What do you mean, surprise?" Her voice came out strained, nerves creeping up on her like a chill.
Atlas' entire body tensed beside her, the quiet crackle of tension filling the room. He could feel her anxiety, his own chest tightening in sync with hers.
The doctor's smile widened as he moved the ultrasound probe slightly, his eyes never leaving the screen. He adjusted the machine with smooth, practiced movements before he pointed at the screen with his finger.
"You're having twins," he said, the words floating in the air like a shockwave.
Silence.
Anya's breath caught in her throat, her entire body frozen as the words echoed in her mind. Her eyes were wide, her heart pounding against her ribcage like a frantic drumbeat.
Atlas, who had been so steady beside her, sat motionless. His gaze was locked onto the screen in front of him, his eyes dark pools of disbelief, as if his brain couldn't quite catch up with the words the doctor had just spoken.
The doctor, clearly accustomed to the sudden shock of parents hearing such news, continued speaking, his voice calm and reassuring. "See here? Two heartbeats. Two little ones. Congratulations, you're expecting twins."
Anya's throat tightened, a lump forming there as she turned to Atlas.
She didn't know what she expected—excitement?
Shock? Some reaction? But he didn't move, didn't make a sound.
His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, but his hands remained still, gripping the side of the chair as though he were holding onto something far more fragile than the armrest.
"Twins?" Anya finally croaked, the word escaping her lips in disbelief, her voice small and barely above a whisper.
She turned to look at him again, searching his face for any sign of recognition, of understanding.
His expression was frozen, locked in a state that wasn't quite fear, nor joy.
It was something else—a strange, heavy kind of stillness that had settled over him.
Atlas didn't even blink. His eyes darted from the screen to her, and back again. His lips parted, but no words came. The silence between them felt unbearable, as if everything had paused in that moment, the world waiting for him to say something—anything.
The doctor, sensing the tension, continued with a small, understanding smile, but it didn't break the strange spell that had descended over the room. "Yes, twins. There are two heartbeats, right here." He gestured to the screen again, tapping it lightly. "Two little ones."
Anya could hardly believe it. "Twins!" she said again, her voice tinged with disbelief, a small laugh escaping her, like she couldn't quite reconcile the reality of it. It sounded so surreal, so impossible. She was still processing it herself.
But Atlas? He still hadn't moved.
"Atlas?" Anya nudged him gently, her voice more urgent now. Her fingers reached out, brushing his arm lightly, as if she could somehow ground him in this moment. "Are you—?"
Her words trailed off when she saw the deep furrow between his brows, the way his eyes remained distant and unfocused, as if he were trying to piece the fragments of this new reality together.
He was staring at the screen again, watching the little flickers of movement, but it was as if his mind hadn't caught up with his body.
Anya couldn't help but smile at the sight of Atlas, who looked like he was genuinely reeling from the revelation.
His usually composed demeanour was nowhere to be found.
He was visibly shaken, rubbing his forehead in disbelief, his hand still gripping his hair like it might somehow anchor him to reality.
As he turned away, his feet moving in a dazed shuffle, Anya watched in a mix of concern and amusement as he collided with the wall, his body stiffening upon impact.
"Atlas!" she gasped, her heart skipping a beat as she quickly reached out for him.
The doctor, observing the scene with clear amusement, chuckled lightly. "I'm afraid the news was a bit much for him."
Anya shot the doctor a brief look but couldn't suppress the soft laugh that bubbled up from her chest. "You okay?" she called to him, trying to mask her amusement with concern.
Atlas slowly straightened up, a hand instinctively going to his forehead as he winced at the dull ache from where he'd bumped into the wall.