Owning You - A Na Jaemin Fanfic

88. Mood Swings and Waltzes

I am six months pregnant. In another week's time, I would have officially crossed over to my third, and final trimester.

Jaemin has been an absolute rock. He has put up with my mood swings and my tears and my cravings, and has been there for me every step of the way.

It hasn't been easy.

Some days I would wake up feeling like The Grinch.

Take last week, for instance.

I got angry with Jaemin because he said my pretty new maternity dress looked like a tent.

"You mean I look like a tent."

"I never said you looked like a tent."

"No. You just implied that I looked like a tent."

"Darling..." Exaggeratedly patient. "You asked me my opinion about your dress. I gave it. You don't look like a tent. You look like a snarling, grumpy little kitten."

"You're saying I'm foul-mouthed and bad-tempered and brainless. I get it. Goodbye."

"Haeri, wait ---- "

I stormed out of the room, dragged on my raincoat, and slammed out of the apartment.

I trudged down the pavement angrily, kicking away the fallen leaves that got in the way.

"Haeri."

I looked up, and he was leaning out of the window of his car.

"Baby," he said.

I carried on walking, stomping through the puddles.

"Haeri," his voice was raised. "Don't be so fucking difficult."

I stopped and pushed back the hood of my raincoat with the inside of my wrist. Trickles of cold water ran over my cheeks and dripped from my chin.

"Just get in the car," he said. "So we can talk."

I carried on walking.

"Haeri," he said more quietly, "I want to wind up the window, I'm wet. You're wet. You'll catch a chill. Please get in."

I ignored him. Kicked a twig viciously. Stomped on.

"Let's go and get a burger," he said. "And a melon ice cream. You love it." He smiled his winning smile, which was already chipping away at the angry hard core of me.

My stomach rumbled. A burger and a melon ice cream sounded like heaven.

"C'mon, baby. Don't be mad," he said softly. "Please, get in. I'm sorry." He looked like a hopeful boy, with his uncertain, desperate-to-please eyes, and a bit more of the rock inside of me crumbled away.

I caved in.

I opened the passenger door and climbed into the front seat. Slammed the door shut.

For a moment I thought he was going to drive us away, but instead he stretched across and adjusted the vent until warm air blew over me.

"You shouldn't be out in the rain. You're so pale." His fingers touched my cheek, but I continued to look straight ahead at the blurred shops and houses down the street.

He leaned over, snapped on my seat belt, and turned my face to his.

"Forgive me?" he murmured.

I sniffed. "You shouldn't have called my dress a tent. Even though it looks like a tent, you shouldn't have said so. It hurts my feelings."

His mouth twitched.

"I'm sorry," he sounded like he wanted to laugh. "For the record, I think you're beautiful. You could wear a tent or a sack or a house..." I giggled, "and you'd still be absolutely beautiful."