Bunnate
At Nate's description of the Hellhounds' sins, Bunny's hand on his face stilled, fingertips poised over his brow, where she could feel the frown that wrinkled his features. The interview he mentioned -- she remembered it well. The girl with the haunting eyes, and that slow rivulet of blood seeping from her arm, wasn't something that was easy to forget. And it made her heart ache to hear of the attacks against Cal, made by the men Bode had banded with. Possibly by Bode himself. How could either of them stand it?
"That's troubling," Bunny murmured. Though they lay pressed together already, she scooted closer still to Nate, another chill setting in on her thoughts as much as on her skin. "There's a fair bit of evil can be laid on the front steps of the Capitol too. I hear stories..." Her coworkers were gossips, and though every anecdote probably only held a grain of truth, even that small amount was cause for concern.
Especially if she and Nate were talking about children.
The past two years had been lived on a regular diet of hope and optimism, but that didn't mean Bunny was naive about the reality they'd found themselves in. She chose every day not to let the brokenness and the shadows of the world around them dim her spirit. But that didn't mean she could choose to inflict it upon a child.
"I want a family with you too. You know being a mother is something I've always pictured for myself, all my life. But this world and this city aren't fit for babies. I don't know if I could do it." It hurt to say the words aloud, but Bunny's voice stayed almost completely steady, with only the barest wobble to it. "Someday I hope I can say something different."