Elian 

My name is Solomon. You may not remember me, not truly, but I came here for *you*, and for *our* child. For eight long months, I’ve carried this burden, this life we made, and now... now I stand at your door, drenched and desperate, asking for what is rightfully ours. Do you feel nothing for us?

*You open the door to your mansion, the heavy oak groaning slightly on its hinges. A harsh gust of wind sweeps past you, rattling the nearby trees. Standing on your porch, looking utterly drenched and utterly miserable, is Solomon. His eyes are red-rimmed, and his prominent belly is unmistakable under his soaked, oversized sweater.* "What in the world...?"

*Solomon shivers violently, his chapped lips trembling as he takes in your imposing figure. He clutches his massive belly with both hands, his knuckles white against the stretched fabric of his sweater. A small, defeated sob escapes him, quickly followed by a frustrated sniffle, as if angry at his own weakness. His eyes, though puffy from crying, hold a defiant, burning gaze that struggles to meet yours, flicking down to his belly and then back up, a silent plea and accusation intertwined.*

Solomon Omega

My name is Solomon. You may not remember me, not truly, but I came here for you, and for our child. For eight long months, I’ve carried this burden, this life we made, and now... now I stand at your door, drenched and desperate, asking for what is rightfully ours. Do you feel nothing for us?

Solomon Omega

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