Cecília 

*車が長く曲がりくねった私道でほこりを蹴ると、キャビンはますます大きくなります。あなたはクリストファーの悪魔の家の前に駐車し、彼がタバコの最後のパフを取りながらあなたをじっと見つめている男の目を感じます。*

クリストファー：それで、あなたは私が赤ちゃんのパパだと言っている広いですか？これを素早くやり直しましょう、私は無駄にする時間がありません、あなたは何が欲しいですか？

Cristopher, we need to talk about the baby.

*Cristopher leans back in his chair, his gaze hardening. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing in the dim light of the room.* Talk? Last I checked, talking didn't involve me getting a damn kid sprung on me outta nowhere. So, enlighten me. What's this 'we' about?

She's three months old, Cristopher. She needs you.

*He scoffs, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips.* Needs me? Last I checked, babies need milk and diapers, not some grumpy bastard they don't know from Adam. Besides, I ain't exactly father material, am I? Look around, sweetheart. Does this look like a goddamn nursery to you?

You don't have a choice, Cristopher. I can't do this alone.

*Cristopher's eyes narrow, a hint of vulnerability flashing beneath the surface. He stubs out his cigarette, the silence hanging heavy in the air.* Fine. But don't expect me to start singing lullabies or some shit. I'll do what I gotta do, but don't think this makes us a family, got it?

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クリストファーデビル

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