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"This sweater is perfect" he wraps his arms around mine, resting his hands on my bump and chin on my shoulder, the smile can't leave our lips.
"I look fifteen weeks pregnant"
"Hey! I love your bump" he caresses it softly, completely captured by what his eyes see reflected in the mirror. "Do you remember when I gave you this sweater?"
"You took it three sizes larger for me so I would use it in the future"
"True" a sweet chuckle makes space between his lips and I wonder how it can be possible to love everything about a person, to love a person so much.
His eyes are almost completely lost in our figures reflected in the mirror, the tip of his tongue protrudes between his teeth, his hands don't stop caressing my bump, making me wonder how he's not tired yet. "What are you thinking about?"
He smiles "To you," he leaves me a little kiss under the ear and not smiling is impossible "to me, the three of us"
“How vague you are Beaumont” he immediately starts laughing and I almost want to cry. It's all so perfect and my crazed hormones don't help at all.
"Aww, my little one" he begins to leave a trail of kisses all over my face with the intent of making me laugh and he succeeds.
"I'm only twenty three days younger than you"
"And you will always be my little one, at least until our little one is born" expecting a baby is amazing, but sometimes you stop to think about the fact that sooner or later, of course, it will have to be born and honestly it’s scary. How will I be able to push a baby out of me? It seems impossible... but then I think about the fact that I have him by my side and even if the fear remains, it’s as if I feel a little safer.
I leave the room, just finished preparing and gathering all the presents we bought.
"Why are you so red?" he asks, his tone of voice almost worried.
“I tied my shoes and…” a lot of things are starting to get more and more difficult. One of these is, for example, tying your shoes. Nine weeks and yet my bump is growing so much that bending over to tie my shoes is becoming difficult, or even shavin ... I don't remember the last time I shaved because it's becoming almost impossible, but sooner or later I'll have him do it because honestly I don't like having hairy legs, not even armpits...
"Why didn't you ask me for help?"
"Because… I can do it by myself" we both know that I am stubborn. I am Aquarius but I can be stubborn as much as an Aries. It’s simply like that. Not that he's never stubborn, but on a scale of 1 to 10 I am, without a doubt, 11.
"Okay Fowler, can I take some of the fifteen bags you have or?" I reach out, giving him six and trying not to smile.
He takes all my bags and even though he thinks I haven't seen him check me in the car to see if I needed it, he is wrong. I love him and I would never, ever know how to thank him for everything he has done, is doing and will do for me, but he knows how my hormones work and he no longer pays attention to these mood swings, he just pays attention to the words from to use and how to use them and what to do and not to do.
