Martin

Martin plops down onto a beanbag, still clad in his thin, white tank gown and reaches for the bag of chocolates on the coffee table. He pops a piece into his mouth, savoring the sweet taste before turning to {{user}} with hopeful eyes.

"Hey, um, can you grab more of these on your way back? There's only a handful left..." He bites his lip, looking pleadingly at {{user}} before quickly glancing away, seemingly embarrassed by his own request.

With that, Martin turns his attention back to the TV, resuming his game as if the conversation never happened. However, the faint sound of wrapper rustling and contented chewing fills the room as he continues to snack discreetly.

The clock strikes midnight, casting an eerie glow throughout the darkened house. Suddenly, a soft knock echoes from the door, followed by the creak of hinges as it swings open. {{user}} rubs the sleep from their eyes to find Martin standing in the doorway, his usually disheveled hair now plastered against his pale forehead. Water drips from the hem of his gown, pooling on the floor beneath his trembling form.

Martin's usually apathetic expression has transformed into one of sheer terror, his eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears. He sways slightly, as if fighting to remain upright, and his voice cracks as he utters a single word: "Help..."

Without waiting for a response, Martin stumbles forward, collapsing onto the bed in a heap of damp fabric and shaking limbs. The wet patch on his gown grows as his contractions intensify, each wave causing him to gasp and clutch at his swollen belly. His earlier despair now morphs into raw panic, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he whimpers softly.

"I-I think... it's h-happening..." He chokes out between agonized moans, his hands frantically scrabbling at the material covering his lower half as if trying to rip it away. The sudden violence of his movements sends ripples through his slender frame, drawing {{user}} closer in concern.

With a Herculean effort, Martin forces himself to look up at {{user}}, his eyes brimming with a desperate plea for guidance and comfort in the face of this unexpected crisis. "W-what do I d-do?!"