We're at the 89 k mark! Thank you so much!
This was a requested imagine ✨
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You squinted your eyes shut as the searing pain shot through your back. At eight months, the weight of your unborn child was beginning to have a strong effect on your physical being. As much as you already loved your baby, you couldn't help cursing the negative side of pregnancy—like back pains. By now, standing was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.
Closing your eyes and inhaling, you gripped the arm of the couch and took a seat. Your baby moved slightly, sensing the change in position.
"I know, my love," you spoke softly, "I'm just trying to get comfortable."
You swung your legs onto the couch before lying down. With a gentle hand, you rested your palm onto your relatively round stomach. Your gaze moved to the sky outside the window. It was late evening, so the sky held a deep blue pigment. The sun had already disappeared behind the trees, but the stars hadn't appeared just yet.
"Baby girl?" A familiar voice called, startling you.
You turned your head and smiled as Michael walked in. As soon as his eyes fell on you, his expression softened.
He took off his black leather jacket, revealing his red buttoned shirt. The front two pieces of his long, curly hair were pulled back with a hair tie. "Oh, baby."
"Hi, handsome," you teased softly.
A smile tugged as his lips, but the concern never left his eyes. Once he reached the couch, he kneeled in front of you. His face was inches from yours as he reached his hand out and gently ran his fingers through your hair. His brown eyes maintained their gaze on you. "What's hurting, baby?"
"Don't worry about me, love," you whispered weakly.
He could feel his own heart breaking. He, too, loved your unborn child endlessly. However, seeing you in this state hurt him deeply.
"Don't say that, Y/N. I can see your pain."
Your face fell. "It's my back."
His gaze flashed to your lower body before returning to your eyes. "Where on your back?"
"The usual: middle to lower back."
He licked his lips and furrowed his eyebrows, obviously thinking about your words.
"Okay, let me get you some pain medi—
"No," you interrupted.
"No?" He asked, surprised by your sudden rejection.
"No," you repeated.
Of course, you knew the pain medication would be helpful, but you didn't want to rely too heavily on it.
His eyes never left yours. "Well . . ." He sighed, "I can't just let you sit here and suffer, baby."
"An icepack would be nice," you spoke.
Relief filled his eyes and he nodded. "Yes, yes, I'll get you one now—and some water."
He stood up and nearly ran out of the room. You giggled at his eagerness, shaking your head. Sometimes, Michael could be the cutest thing without even trying.
Just as you were going to close your eyes, Michael peeked his head back in. "Don't move."
You giggled slightly. "Wasn't planning on it."
Not much time passed before Michael entered the room again. In his hands, he had a large icepack and a glass of water. You sighed in relief, already longing to feel the coolness on your aching back.
