The Next Step- Nochelle and Jiley One Shots

Problem

Author's Note:
Guys I've missed this book!! Sorry, guys, I've been so busy updating my last book that I haven't had time to do any one shots! But I'm back now!!
This is kind of a Bryles one shot, but as y'all know, I feel really uncomfortable writing about real people (just me) so just pretend it's Nochelle!
Disclaimer: I have no idea if this is actually an issue at all, please remember that this has nothing to do with thier real life. I did however, actually research this problem extensively, so all of the medical information should be right, but I'm sorry if it's not.

Richelle's Perspective:

I stared at the small stick in my hand, and I couldn't process how I felt. A plus sign. I was counting on it to be negative, but it wasn't. It was positive. I'd thought it was impossible. Clearly not.

Thoughts rushed through my mind. Not now, not now. Not ever. Not anymore. I couldn't do this. I sat on the floor, head between my hands, barely able to breathe or process my own thoughts at all.

One thought clouded the others. Baby.

I was having a baby. We were having a baby. Me and Noah. But I didn't want to, not at all.

"Richelle?" Noah said, banging on the door a little and snapping me out of my trance.

"I'll be right out!" I called. I put the stick in the trash, then another thought arose. How was I going to tell Noah?

I made my way out of the bathroom, and it felt like I was weightless until I sat on the couch. "You okay, Riche?" Noah asked, probably noticing how unnerved I was.

"No." I answered mindlessly. I was working up the courage to tell him, but I didn't want to. I wasn't sure what I was going to do.

Of course, I never wanted to abort the baby. I could never live with myself if I destroyed a human life, I life that I created, even if it wasn't exactly living yet. But there were so many risks to be involved. I didn't know if I wanted to take them.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

Ripping off a band-aid, ripping off a band-aid, I told myself. After a moment of staring at the wall, I finally spoke. "I'm pregnant."

His expression was unreadable at first. Then it grew into a wide smile. "Really?" he exclaimed. "You're not messing with me?"

"Of course I'm not messing with you, Noah," I mumbled. He picked my up and swing me in a hug, kissing me softly after, but he pulled away when he noticed I wasn't kissing back.

"Why aren't you happy?" He was puzzled.

"Because, Noah. Don't you know how many risks there are involved with pregnancy and epilepsy? I could have a seizure and fall, on my stomach or otherwise, hurting the baby. The risks of miscarriage are so much higher than a normal person, even past my first trimester. Epilepsy inheritance isn't likely, but still more than other people since I have it. I could give this to someone." I explained through tears.

"Oh, Riche. You know how low these risks are." he tried to assure me.

"I do. But there's always an 'if.' There's always a possibility, even if it's slight." I defended.

He pulled me into a hug and stroked my back in a comforting manor. "Please don't think like that, baby. You have to enjoy this. You know you've always wanted kids."

A small smirk appeared on my face, and before I hid it, Noah saw. I decided there was no real point in being upset over something so beautiful. I was working myself up over so little.

I'd always had this mindset, and in 5 minutes, Noah completely changed my way of thinking. "Thank you." I muttered.

"You're welcome." Then he lifted up my shirt and patted my stomach gently. "You know, you're going to have to put up with your mama's stressing too soon."

When I realized he was talking to the baby, my smile grew wider. My heart changed, in a matter of seconds. "Thank you." I repeated.

He chuckled. "You already said that."

"Not for that talk, for this." I took his other hand in mine and placed it over my stomach too, gesturing to the baby.

"I love you, you know that?" Noah said.

"I know. I love you too."

Author's Note:
Thought I'd try my hand at fluff, but it's not very good. Sorry it's so short.