Credit to the owner

You watched from your place on the rocking chair of the master bedroom as Louis sauntered around the room to the lounge chair in the corner of the room that held his freshly ironed black jeans, in a pair of white briefs whilst he had one sock on and one sock tucked into his hand. He was humming one of the new songs softly beneath his breath before he grunted from bending over to pull on his other sock, adjusting the heel before stomping his foot down as he lost his balance for the moment and letting a thud echo around the room. He’d come home from work just only an hour ago, throwing off his coat and letting it fall to the coat stand before he ascended the stairs and immediately came face to face with you, where he’d told you he was heading out with the lads for a drink to relieve and surpass the stresses of being in the studio all day.

This didn’t want to anger you - he’d always go out with the lads when he was feeling stressed and you knew it was soothing to them to let the feeling wash through them with the consumption of alcohol over a few hours. However, with the hormones replacing every other emotion in your body, you’d freaked. With you entering the second trimester of your pregnancy, all you wanted was to stay in and have a night of relaxation. Candles lit and letting off soft aromas whilst you took a bubble bath and cuddled together, with a takeaway pizza ordered was yours and Louis’ definition of a night of relaxation, and Louis was always up for it.

However, with the stress in his body and the hormones in your own that were building up, this disagreement had lead to you both having a screaming match moments before he huffed off angrily to the bedroom and preceded to iron his jeans.

A hand rested just over your slightly showing bump - showing from beneath the blue tee *** that you had taken a liking to wearing during your pregnancy. A tee that Louis would say you ‘stole’ from him just to tease you and play tricks with you; but you knew the truth and he knew too. A soft sigh left your lips as you looked out the window, the gentle rocking of the rocking chair soothing you into a calm and emotionally cleansed state. However this sigh had made Louis’ ears perk up and he immediately whipped around and frowned.

“Don’t do that,” he muttered before dipping his head and button up the jeans on his legs. His soft and slight belly fat rolling up as he hunched over to adjust the waistband around his hips, and you could remember the night previous where he was laid in bed beside you with nothing but a pair of pyjama shorts settled around his upper thighs with his upper torso and belly on show. You would forever rub at the soft skin of his belly in an absentminded spur of the moment whilst he grinned and mewed in pleasure, agreement and warmth.

“Don’t do what? Breath?” You mumbled sarcastically, looking down at the slight curve of your bump before tugging the blue shirt down further and letting the hem rest at your thighs where the fluffy and tartan patterned blanket that his mother had given to you as a present sat over your legs. “I didn’t know that was such a fucking problem,” you hissed lightly, catching his eye contact as his eyelids closed into slits.

“You’re unbelievable. When are you going to let me live properly?” Louis asked, a hint of sarcasm and anger laced within the tone of his question. A tone that felt icy cold and insulting towards you leading to you having a sudden urge to slap the smug look off his face. “I can’t get over how possessive you can be. You may be pregnant with my kid, and we may be engaged, but you don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re my fiancée, not my mother,” he hissed, as he brushed past your shoulder and into the walk-in wardrobe adjacent to the bedroom.

A wash of hurt and pain flushed through your body and coursing through your veins as he disappeared through the doors and sliding them shut. The statement probably didn’t mean to sound as rude as he had thought it would, but to you, it made him sound like he didn’t care about you and it made him sound like he was adamant about the months to come when a baby would grace your lives. You didn’t think at all that you were possessive and controlling over him and you felt insulted that he thought that of you.

“You know, a dad to be sure wouldn’t be going out and getting pissed every night. Especially when he has a pregnant fiancée at home awaiting his arrival,” you started, hearing him shuffle around in the confined space behind the wooden doors cutting off your view of what he was doing. You could guess by the sound of metal scraping that he was looking for a suitable shirt to wear to the pub down the road. “If I remember rightly, your mum told you to stay at home to practice nights in for when the baby comes. You can’t keep going out and getting pissed every night when our baby is here,” you stated, putting strain and emphasis upon the word ‘our’ to put your point across with hopes it went through his ears and settled comfortable against his brain.

With your statement, the door was pull open in aggravation and a growl left his mouth. His upper body was now covered with a t-shirt *** you solely remembered buying for and adored on him. “You think I’d choose pubs and bars over our baby? My own flesh and blood? You really think that lowly of me? You’re literally unbelievable. I can’t believe you,” he hissed. He wouldn’t choose alcohol and partying over his child and he couldn’t believe how unreasonable you were being. “I can’t believe you. Seriously. I can’t look at you right now. I need a night away from you,” he hissed and reached for his phone from the place it was charging and as you heard the jingle of keys in his hand, you knew that Louis wasn’t backing out of this night out.

“So, you’re really going out? When will you be home? I’ll get some food co-”

“I don’t need food. I don’t need anything from you. I don’t want you to wait up for me. I’m going out. Not sure how long. You don’t need to wait for me. I’m a big boy, I can come in and out of the house on my own,” he interrupted you, mumbling under his breath as he walked down the stairs with you hot on his tail.

“What if something happens to me? I can’t exactly do much with a baby growing inside me, Louis! I need you here to help me!” You cried out as you stood upon the bottom step whilst you watched him tug his coat back on, shrugging his shoulders to adjust the constraining garment on his upper body. “Why do you need to relieve stress with the boys at the pub? You can have a bath with me and we can talk more about the baby and we can have a takeaway pizza, like we usually do,” you started tearily, your bottom lip trembling as you watched him whip around.

“There you go again! Wanting my every need. I can’t be here all the time. You’re pregnant! Not dying,” he hissed whilst pointing a finger dangerously close to your nose. With that, he turned round to the front door and pulled it open letting a gust of cold air into the warm house and chill at your legs.

“Do you know something? I don’t want our baby growing up with an alcoholic for a father. Either you buck up your fuckin’ ideas, or we’re done. I’ll break off the engagement, move in with my parents and raise this child on my own since you seem to not care about any of this going on!” You yelled, pushing softly at his shoulders and watching as he nudged forward and stumbled in his step, and as he looked round to face you, regret had filled your body. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it.”

“No. You obviously did. So, back off and let me have this one night of fuckin’ freedom before I get tied down with all this family shit,” he muttered, stepping out of the front door and pulling it shut from behind him. As you watched through the window of the front door and followed the path Louis was taking, you couldn’t help but let the small tears dribble down your cheeks and dripping from your chin to the hands resting upon the small curve of your prominent bump.

“Sweetheart, daddy really does love you. He’s just stressed. We’ll be okay, I’m sure of it. I promise we won’t split up. He’ll come to his senses and me and you will have happy and funny daddy back,” you whispered before letting out a sob as you dipped your chin to your chest and closed your eyes. “Daddy loves us both and we love him. Daddy’s an idiot, sometimes, you’ll see exactly what he’s like when you’re born,” you giggled softly, shuffling across the floor and stepping to the kitchen area.

* *

Louis was always known for taking part in drinking games and consuming copious amounts of alcohol and beers and shots, yet that night was turning him down. He didn’t want beers or shots and he said no to everyone who offered to by him a beverage. Odd glares were given to him from Niall who felt offended everytime Louis turned him down, and Harry was even feeling a little concerned as he watched Louis sitting on a bar stool by himself from the booth he, Liam, Niall, Andy, Calvin and Oli were settled in.

“Mate, stop being so grumpy! You’re killing everyone’s mood,” Calvin called out, holding his hand as he waved his friend over with a frown on his face. Calvin’s eyebrows furrowed when Louis shook his head and pulled out his phone from his pocket. “What’s bitten his ass tonight? Has him and his missus fallen out again?”

“From what I can expect, Louis has gone home and something has sparked up a problem. Maybe she’s feeling hormonal and needy and Louis just doesn’t understand,” Liam reasoned, pressing the rim of the neck of the beer bottle to his lips before tilting it up and gulping down the liquid that remained in the bottle. “But, I think we should leave them to it. Don’t you think? We should stay out of it.”

As Louis finished his order for his final beer, he couldn’t help but overhear what Liam was saying. He felt proud and almost happy that his own friends were willing to stay out of his own business to let him settle it on his own with you. Yet, his slightly bout of happiness left his body when he heard who he liked to call his best friend speak out his thoughts - drunk or not, drunken words are sober thoughts.

“Mate, that girl has been nothing but trouble to Louis. I mean, he needs some freedom,” Oli murmured, looking down to his lap as Harry’s eyes widened and an angry rage ran through his body. Louis felt confusion roam his mind, and he didn’t understand where the sudden dislike was coming from. “Like, all they do is fight at the moment and it’s like he hates being with her. He needs to realise that just because she’s pregnant, he doesn’t need to stay with her and get married,” he added, receiving angered looks from the three band members sat next to one another in the booth that smelt like beer and food and a slight aroma of body odor.

“Oli has a point. Like, is she keeping him there by guilt tripping him by saying stuff about the baby? Like, I know she’s a sweet girl n’all, but they all have that manipulative side to them. And she has a baby to use,” Calvin reasoned, placing his empty pint glass on the table and catching movement in the corner of his eyes.

Louis stood at the head of the table with his body standing more closer to Niall than Calvin and Oli, a frown and an angered tone on his face.

“You’re meant to be my mates and you’re slagging my missus off behind my back? You’re nasty. Nothing but dickheads who get their kicks from slagging off my fiancée. I’m marrying her because I love her. She isn’t guilt tripping me into staying with her and I don’t see why this has anything to do with you,” Louis stated, pressing his palms on the table and leaning over to face the both of them. “I love her. I love her so much. Are you so jealous of me that you just slag everything off? Because that’s nasty, cruel and I don’t want friends like that in my life,” he muttered, before turning to Andy and Liam and Niall and Harry who were staring amused at the scene breaking out in front of them.

“Lads, I’m going home. I need to stay home with my missus.”

* *

As Louis stepped into the house and carefully shut the door and let out a small puff of breath before rubbing his palms over his face and groaning out in frustration. The house was quiet and the only sound audible was the ticking of the clock in the hallway as well as the soft beep of the microwave coming from the kitchen room next door, and the lights were turned off with no inch of light entering from anywhere. He kicked off his shoes and let his socked feet touch the carpeted floor as he shrugged off his coat and let it fall to the banister by the stairs as he ascended them and hoped that you weren’t waiting up for him - he didn’t want you to be tired in the morning.

He entered the bedroom and felt sick when he came across no sleeping body beneath the duvet on the double bed. Your pyjamas had gone and he just hoped that they were the only piece of clothing that had gone, because your clothes disappearing meant only one thing and that thing being something he didn’t ever want to cross his mind. He panicked when he checked the guest room, and he felt like crying when you weren’t settled in the nursery that was yet to be built up for the new baby.

He had every right to pull his phone out and demand where you are, that was until he heard you cough loudly from a room and he felt a breath of relief just wash over him - you were still in the house and he hadn’t felt happier. His feet took him to the stairs and a sneeze was heard and a deep chuckle left his lips as he descended the stairs rehearsing his apology through his head. Once he stepped into the hallway, he could see a sleeping lump on the sofa and immediate guilt ran through his body as he slowly but surely made his way to your body on the sofa.

“Baby?”

A disgruntled whine left your lips as he switched the little lamp that sat upon the small table at the arm of the sofa on. As he took in your appearance, he felt his heart swell; you’d changed from his blue tee to his green Adidas hoodie *** and you had a pair of your worn out and tattered looking tracksuit bottoms hitched up on your legs. As he looked down at your feet pressed against the arm of the sofa, he couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle when he noticed that a pair of his red and white socks *** were pulled up and folded around your feet.

“Darlin’, it’s only me. Can you sit up for me? Let’s get you upstairs, shall we? We can’t have you sleeping on here,” he whispered, crouching down beside the sofa and keeping a hand flat against your hip. “Come on, darlin’. This isn’t good for the baby, and it’s definitely not good for your back,” he reasoned, watching as you opened your eyes and took in his face.

And you weren’t sure what brought it upon you, but a sob left your throat and you lunged yourself forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying into the crook where his neck met his shoulder.

“Hey, hey. What happened? Is this about what I said earlier? I didn’t mean it, darlin’. I promise. Please,” he whispered softly into your ear and pressed a kiss to the shell covered by hair.

“I don’t ever want to fight again. I was so scared you wouldn’t come back, and then I’d be left to raise our baby alone and I really want you by my side,” you whispered, sobbing against his skin as you gripped hold of the tee on his body with your fists. “I love you, so much. And I don’t want you to think I hate you. I’ve been thinking about our future and all I see is you and I love you, and I love the baby and the baby loves you and, please don’t leave me,” you cried out, your voice solemn and full on apology and all you wanted was to keep him tucked in your arms and never let him out of your sight again.

“I am going nowhere. You are stuck with me for life now, okay? I love you and I love our baby and I am going nowhere, darlin’. I am so, so sorry about what I said earlier and I just want us to forget everything and have a happy life from now. We’ve got our wedding coming up and we’ve got our precious little soul coming into the world and I can’t wait for this. We’re finally getting the life we talk about,” he grinned, pulling your head from his neck and cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Remember our pillow talks back when we were dating? And we spoke all the time about having a baby and getting married, and now we’re 6 years in and we’ve got everything we’ve ever wanted,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours and resting his forehead against your forehead.

“Can we go to bed?”

A laugh left his lips as he pressed a soft kiss to your pink flesh and let his touch linger against your skin.

“Of course we can, darlin’. Of course we can.”
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xx.

(A/n : Maybe I shed one tear of happiness and love.)