state of grace » l.s. mpreg

fifty-two

Harry wakes up to Willow screaming from her cot beside him, the sound breaking through the silence of his peaceful sleep. The alarm clock's red letters shine 2:37 from its spot on the bedside table, and Harry can't help but sigh softly.

Louis shifts a little from his spot next to him when Harry sits up, half-asleep as he reaches and grabs Harry's arm gently. "I can get 'er, babe," He mumbles, voice low and thick as he wrinkles his nose at Willow's wailing.

"'S alright, sun, go back to sleep," Harry assures, running his fingers through Louis' hair before turning to pick Willow up. He's positive if Louis wasn't so tired he would argue, but instead he turns over again, falling back asleep.

Harry scoops Willow up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. It's her nappy, he's sure of it, so he slowly stands up out of bed and carries her to the nursery, guided by the dim moonlight peeking through the window panes.

He turns on the light in the nursery, soft and dim and warm, before laying Willow onto the changing table. Through sleepy eyes he sees she's already a bit less distressed, probably because now she's got Papa's attention.

"You're okay, yeah?" He murmurs, unsnapping her little baby pyjamas and carefully taking them off. Willow just blinks up at him with big blue eyes that mirror Louis'. He continues nonsensically, "Yeah you're okay, sweet girl. You're gonna be a good girl, let Papa change your nappy and go right back to sleep, yeah?"

He gets to work on changing her nappy, grinning to himself fondly when he hears the floor in the hall creak with footsteps. It feels like the room gets warmer as soon as Louis appears in the doorway, eyes half-shut and hair sticking out everywhere. "Can't sleep without you there."

"'M almost done," Harry assures, flashing him a small smile. Louis shuffles over to him, standing behind him and snaking his arms around Harry's waist. Instinctively, Harry sucks in his stomach, curling in on himself, and Louis sighs.

"Don't do that," He mumbles into Harry's shoulder.

"Do what?" Harry asks, acting clueless.

"Haz," Louis sighs. "Talk to me."

Harry smiles a little, shaking his head as he changes Willow's nappy. "'S two in the morning, Lou. We can talk later."

"Just tell me what's on your mind. Please," Louis says quietly. Harry frowns to himself, leaning back into Louis' chest a bit more and snapping Willow's baby grow back up. "If something's bothering you, I don't want you to have to think about it for another second."

He's such a sap, it makes Harry's heart become warm. He squirts some hand sanitiser into his palm, scooping Willow back up into his arms before finally saying, "I feel...I don't know. Unattractive."

"What?" Louis asks, as if that's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. Harry keeps his eyes down on Willow, Louis hooking his chin over his shoulder.

"When I had Gracie, my body kind of bounced back right after," He explains, talking slowly, his sleepy brain trying to make sense of his thoughts. "But 's been three weeks, and I look the same. Everything is...bigger. I just wish I could be more attractive for you."

"Hey," Louis' voice is soft and stern as he gently grips Harry's arms, turning him around so they're facing each other. "Stop with that. You look beautiful, Hazza. You always do."