Mpreg third contest - Porcelain Shell

Francis fell to his knees. I knew what he was feeling; I could feel it too. His heart was breaking. He didn’t want to let her go.
With her friends at the sand box, Michelle turned her head back to us. Witnessing her father’s crestfallen figure, she hopped back to him. Her glossy mahogany pigtails danced around her shoulders as she came to a halt before the kneeling man.
“Papa,” she said looking into his sombre face curiously. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?’
Francis shook his head, his blond hair circling his head. “Non, mon papillon. It’s just that I love you so much and it is so hard to let you go...” He picked up her face in his hands. You are so beautiful, I don’t want to share you…”
She giggled. She really was. The way our daughter had grown was beautiful. Her bright eyes dazzled everyone she met and the way her green and white dress, the colour of mistletoe, danced around her porcelain legs reminded me of the kisses I loved to place on her little forehead. To think that our little girl would join her brothers in the frightening and traitorous sea known as school…
I felt my cheeks sting as tears fell from my eyes. I broke, though I had promised I wouldn’t.
“Lapin?” Francis called to me using his favourite pet name for me. “Are you going to be alright?”
I quivered, my body trembling from the emotions it was trying to hold in. “I’m fine…”
Soon, I was being embraced by them; my Francis at my chest and my Michelle on my leg. I sobbed into my husband’s soft cotton shirt. Then I bent low to give my child a proper hug. “Be careful, okay?” I whispered to her. “Make lots of friends and don’t let anyone bully you. Any bully is just jealous because you’re cooler than they are… Respect your teacher but and don’t be afraid to ask questions. And if something happens, go to the office and get them to call Mattie down for you and then have them call me. And--”
“—I know. I’ll be fine!” she told me. “You don’t have to worry.”
“Do you promise?” I asked.
“Yes,” she assured me. “Now can I go play?”
I stroked her hair lightly. “Okay…” I drew away. “You go have fun.”
“I will!” she said.
After exchanging kisses with us, she ran off again.
I watched her go before turning to Francis, all teary again. “She’ll be alright, won’t she?”
“Yes, Arthur… I’m sure she will. She’s ours.”
I smiled.
“Yes. Yes, she is. Let’s go…”
He wrapped his arm around my waist and we left.