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"I still feel so nauseous," I grumbled, trying to keep my head still as it sunk deep into the pillows. "Like, every time I look around, I feel like I'm gonna throw up."
"You didn't even drink last night," he scoffed, scrolling through his phone. He had one arm looped behind my neck, keeping me close as he woke up slowly.
"I've felt like this all week," I squeezed my eyes shut, but this only made the room spin faster. He gave my shoulder an empathetic rub.
"Maybe I should take you to the clinic," he dropped his phone, pressing a cautious kiss to my cheek, "What if you're like, anemic or something?"
"Do people suddenly get anemic?" I pondered, tucking my head into his shoulder. The smell of his leftover cologne went straight to the back of my throat, and the usual comforting smell left me holding my breath. I shot out of bed, sprinting to the bathroom and puking in the toilet.
"Shit," he shuffled behind me, sleepy eyes reflecting in the mirror as I rinsed my mouth. "That bad?"
"Fuck," I held the sink tightly, waiting for the room to settle.
"Poor thing," he rubbed my shoulders, my head lulling to rest on his arm. "You're not pregnant, are you?" He was laughing, but my expression fell flat. His smile dropped into a gasp, turning me around to search my eyes.
"Am I pregnant?" I covered my mouth, stifling a laugh.
"Oh my God," his face cracked into a smile, bringing me into a crushing hug. "I'm a fucking father!"
"Hold on, hold on," I choked, struggling to breathe against his tight grasp.
"I'm going to the shops, I'll pick you up a test. We're having a fucking baby!" He kissed every cell on my cheek, his mouth trickling down my neck and shoulder.
"Wait," I held him at arm's length, watching him closely, "We haven't even talked about this. You want a baby?"
"With you?" he cradled my face in his hands, "Absolutely."
"Things would be so different," I shook my head, kissing at his palm.
"Things will be different," he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, "Is that such a bad thing?"
"I don't know," I shrugged, laughing again.
"You'll be a wonderful mother, I know it," he kissed my forehead, showering me in affection, "You'll be perfect. You already are."
"Alright," I smiled, unable to look away from his radiant eyes, which seemed to be memorizing mine.
"Go lie down, sweetheart," he guided me back to bed, tucking me in tightly and adjusting the pillows behind my head, "Or, wait, are you supposed to lie on your side?"
"I don't think it matters yet," I giggled, holding his hand.
"I'll be back in ten minutes, I promise," he left toothy kisses on my knuckles, his grin unwavering. "Don't walk, don't go anywhere, don't look at anything."
"Sure," I bit my lip, letting him slip from my hand. He stepped away, pausing at the doorframe to look back at me. He pulled his phone from his pocket, talking a picture of me surrounded in blankets and morning sunlight.
"I'll show that one to our daughter," he smiled, holding my gaze delicately, "I love you."
