ISN'T SHE LOVELY | hs

16 | PROVEN WRONG

| MICKAYLA |
Friday 8th December, 2022

"You're so lucky that I love you, Little Sun, 'cause this waking me up for a wee every forty-five minutes palava is getting old."

I walk from my bed to the bathroom with my eyes closed, missing the sound of Harry's snores or grumbles because I'm leaving to pee again because for the first time in forever, he isn't asleep next to me.

Tonight he had a work event to attend, some party in Soho for the label that he really didn't want to go to, but it was important for business so he sucked it up and went. I helped him pick out a banging outfit - a navy velvet blazer, pinstriped slacks and mid-blue button up for beneath - peppered his face in proud kisses and waved him away as he drove off in the Ferrari.

I was invited too, but I declined. I'm tired all of the time and truthfully a little bit traumatised after that last party I went to. I was happy for Harry to go on without me, deciding to use the night to myself to paint my final commission of the year.

He said he'd be back late, and by late he meant the early hours of the morning. Harry also told me before he left that he'd crash on the couch once home to prevent waking me up, bless his soul.

I told him that if I open my eyes to a new day to find an empty bed, I'll be pissed. Seeing his angel face as the first thing when I wake up is my absolute favourite, and I don't want to go a time not experiencing it.

Even if Harry wasn't out partying and was in bed with me, my need to pee frequently means that we no longer fall asleep cuddling, because I'll only wake him up too and that's not fair.

The deal is now that we spoon for five minutes, then we go our separate ways. It's like we're a married couple, except Harry has to be touching me in some way even with his back turned or a few inches of space between us. He usually opts for our feet to touch, or his pinkie finger to just delicately touch some part of my body.

Since the studio, Harry and I taking things one step at a time really has worked out well. To be honest, our dynamic hasn't changed much from what it was before that day, although I have spent every day with his dick in my mouth at least once.

He's been just as giving, waking me up with his face between my legs on numerous occasions, or going for a second breakfast on the kitchen counter, or a movie snack on the living room sofa. I'm not one to complain, not when his tongue is more divine than every angel in heaven combined.

That's where I've been living these past two weeks. Heaven on goddamn earth thanks to sunshine boy. If he hasn't been making me see stars via eating me out, I've still been seeing them in his eyes whenever he looks at me.

We haven't physically had sex again because after the orgasms that man pulls from me, or should I say exorcises, I'm too wiped out. I'm officially in my second trimester, and while a lot of my symptoms from the first have upped and left, I've been given some new ones in the form of more intense aches, pains, cramps and a fun new one: clumsiness.

Harry's continued his routine of running me a bath every day to help with my discomfort, and he's also started a new habit of hovering behind me wherever I go in case I trip up or bump into something. It's happened a lot, my flat needing Micki-proofed to prevent more bruises than I've already got.

What we have also done is shopping, and a lot of it. We had so much fun getting me some new clothes a couple of weeks ago, the fashion show he suggested we put on for our friends going down a storm with family nights becoming a weekly occurrence, and the shopping we've recently done is all Christmas related. We're a week into December now, and we've both finished buying for our friends and family already.