The room darkened inch by inch as the sun set over the city, casting shadows over his messy, laundry-strewn floor, and igniting the features on his face in orange and grey hues. He smiled at me lazily, planting his supple lips onto my cheek in a damp little kiss that felt as wet as a dog's nose, while he peered defiantly over my shoulder at the illuminated laptop screen. I nudged him gently continuing my journey through the Amazon, adding 'What to Expect When You're Expecting' to my basket. I was stocking up on these guides; I needed as much help as I could get.
"Do they have one entitled 'How to reveal to your management that a girl you've been shagging is pregnant without them killing you viciously with a chainsaw?'"
I chuckled light-heartedly at him, shaking my head tiredly. "You'll figure it out, Harry, don't worry. I'm sure they'll be as happy for you as the boys were." I smiled widely as I remembered their shock, which quickly turned to congratulations when they observed how positively elated Harry appeared, beaming at them like an excited puppy. They'd all put hands on my stomach, cooing about the little one and what brilliant uncles they'd all be. Harry was overjoyed, simply because they accepted it so easily. But I had known they would. Because they loved him.
"I doubt it," he muttered worriedly, "It's not exactly a good image, is it? For the band? The popstar who encourages teen pregnancy. They'll despise me for it..."
I shrugged sadly, sensing he was talking more to himself now. We'd had this conversation a million times; he was simply voicing his thoughts. All I could do was hold him, and hope that it would be alright, like I had told him it would be so often.
He seemed to push the thought from his mind, however, as he nuzzled his nose into my hair and sighed, trailing more tiny wet kisses down my jaw. His eyes fluttered shut as he lost himself in his emotions. I shuddered under his touch and he beamed conceitedly, knowing well the effect he had on me when he was like this. "Stop it, Harry, you're distracting me."
"Then be distracted," he grumbled in my ear, "Let me kiss you..."
I shook my head at his boldness as he nibbled on my neck. You'd have thought my ever-growing 12 week tummy would put him off sex. Not a chance....
"Harry," I groaned, removing his face from where he was licking my collarbones to glance into his darkened green eyes, "Aren't I the one who's supposed to be horny all the time?"
He laughed, pecking my lips lightly, quickly. I smiled at the gesture as he pulled away, biting his lip in thought. "You've got really nice lips, Tamara."
"Thank you," I murmured, casting my eyes away coyly. Harry wrapped his arm around my waist in a warm hug, resting his head between my shoulder and chest before he shut his eyes. He did this a lot lately, constantly dozing off in my arms. He said it was his favourite place to sleep. I manoeuvred the cursor to the 'Checkout' button and clicked, charging the ridiculously large collection of books to my credit card. Useful purchases they would be, I was sure.
"Who cares what they think." His voice was soft and quiet, almost inaudible in the stillness of the room, the only other sound being the whirring of the laptop on my knee. His hand crept gently over my hips, resting in a tender caress of my prominent belly. As of yet, it could still pass as puppy fat. If I was papped, they'd simply write up some shocking article on my appalling weight gain. We were still in the safe zone.
He pressed an effortless kiss to the cotton of the old baggy t-shirt I wore, a souvenir from my international tour a few years back, bright green with the words C'est La Vie! emblazoned in pink on the front. From Paris, a little stall I'd found along the bank of the Seine. They sold cheap tourist knick-knacks, but it had caught my eye. The phrase held a sort of significance with me, something I couldn't quite explain. I couldn't resist. I bought it straight away.
