"Okay, now spin the other way," Harry instructed, making a circling gesture with his finger.
"I just turned that way," I groaned.
"I know, but the picture was blurry."
I sighed, exhausted and annoyed by Harry having me stand near the window for the last forty five minutes, posing with my stomach. I was on the brink of taking the phone out of his hand and flushing it down the toilet.
I shifted, turning to the left as Harry prepared to take yet another picture.
"Lift your shirt up a bit higher," he said, head peeking around the phone.
I irritatingly chewed on the inside of my cheek, giving Harry a blank stare.
"I can't see all of the bump."
I dramatically exhaled, pulling the crinkled material past the top of my expanded stomach.
"Better?" I said sarcastically.
"Oh, c'mon now, smile," he teased, grinning goofishly himself.
I stuck my tongue out at him as he returned the action. I then heard the animated sound of a camera clicking and saw the flash of a camera.
"Am I done?"
"Yes, you're done," he chuckled.
I let my body go limp, my limbs tired from being in the same position for so long. I tottered over to the bed, settling myself next to him, my back leaning against the headboard of the bed. I watched his thumb flick through pictures, each of them looking ridiculous but he seemed to enjoy them anyway.
"How many did you take?" I asked.
"Enough to last until next week," he smiled, peering up at me.
"Next week?"
"I'm taking some every week," he said proudly, setting his phone beside him. His hand resting on the middle of my abdomen. "Watch both of you grow." He placed light kisses where his hand lay. "My little peanut."
I giggled, his lips pecking my nose.
"I'm really glad you're here with me," I whispered.
"Where else would I be?"
My grin widened, my lips meshing into his momentarily, foreheads pressed together. I suddenly felt a chill run up my spine, causing me to shiver.
"You cold?"
"A little bit," I shrugged.
He rose from the bed, advancing to the closet.
"I think there's a hoodie in here somewhere," he said, rummaging through hung up clothing on a rack.
"Harry, it's fine, I'm not that - "
"Ah, here it is." He pulled out a purple sweatshirt, with the words "Jack Wills" on the front in large white block letters. "Haven't worn it since I was eighteen, but it should fit you."
He handed it to me and I smiled thankfully. "Who's Jack Wills?" I asked, bringing the hoodie over my head before slipping my arms through it.
"Some sport retail clothing store. My dad used to bribe me with stuff from there whenever he screwed up really badly."
I inhaled the clean laundry scent the sweatshirt gave off, instead of Harry's perasive aroma. He sank down next to me, lying on his side as I did the same. He gaped at me, lips coiling into a grin.
"What?" I chuckled.
"You know, I was just thinking about the night I met you. I wasn't even supposed to be there. I was supposed to meet with William to talk 'business.'"
