oleander's face

… she slipped her anger into something silky and attractive, like she was putting on a lacy nightgown.
—  Martha Schabas, Various Positions
4

“Oleander, I have something to tell you.” I said, still feeling a bit nauseous. (Whoever named morning sickness needs a swift kick in the pants. And morning sickness should be renamed “all the time sickness”, too.)

“What? You’re not pregnant, are you?” Oleander said with a chuckle.

“I am, actually! I just took a test this morning, I think I might be a month or two along.” I replied.

When I said that, all the color drained from Oleander’s face, and all kindness that had previously been in his eyes left, too.

Oh no. 

Oh dear Berry, no…