Quandary | Noah Sebastian |

seventeen

It was exceptionally warm upon waking up this morning. It was a comfortable warmth that encased my tired body, a warmth that I had missed dearly.

Noah was pressed against my back, our bodies slotted together perfectly and melting into each other's curves. His arm was draped over my side, his hand nestled underneath my top. I smiled to myself, remembering how I fell asleep to the feeling of his large hand splayed over my stomach, his thumb lazily grazing the area.

Before then, we laid awake and just talked about any and everything. We both expressed where we felt things started to take a turn for the worse, and quickly realized we simply weren't communicating the way that we should have been. At the end of the day, we were both paying for it, and knew we had to improve our communication skills if we ever wanted things to be the way they used to be.

Especially now, with him still not in perfect health, and me being pregnant. That was a discussion of its own; whether or not we were sure this was something we really wanted.

Much to my surprise, he was all for it. I was too, given the fact that this was something I've always wanted for as long as I could remember, but of course I had my doubts, with my alcoholism and all. I expressed my concerns to him, and he was very understanding about them, reassuring me that he would support me all the same regardless of what decision we came to.

With that clearing my conscious a tad, that's when I was finally able to fall asleep—with the warmth of his body blanketing me, and his hand on my stomach.

As much as I enjoyed lying here, still in his embrace, I couldn't help the guilt from engulfing me when I tuned in on the sound of his wheezing—his chest was rising and falling heavily against my back as he struggled to breathe in his sleep. I frowned and shifted forward, hoping to take some weight off his chest so he could breathe easier.

His arm suddenly tightens around me, pulling me back against him. "Mmm, no," he mumbles, still half asleep.
I snorted incredulously, shaking my head. "Noah, you can hardly breathe."
"Don't care," he says, burying his face in the space between my shoulder and neck.
I sighed, trying once again to wriggle out of his grasp. "But I do."
"Give me a minute...please." He whispers the last word, and there's a pang of sorrow in my chest—he was practically begging me.
I breathed out a quiet 'okay' and allowed him to hold me the way he wanted to, settling my body back against his.

The distance was hard on him, I knew that, and I regretted it. I should've asked him to come home sooner, maybe he wouldn't be so sick. Then again, it could've made him even worse; I don't know how this disease progresses. All I knew was that I wanted him to get better, I wanted things to go back to the way they were, and I needed to do what I could to fix it.

His hand returns to the same spot on my belly as the night prior, slowly curling his fingers to his palm and out again, his fingertips delicately running over my skin. "How are you feeling?" he asks quietly, trailing the tip of his nose up my neck and placing a kiss right behind my ear.
I whine quietly, and my shoulder instinctively rises, trying to block the sensitive skin when his actions tickle me. "Alright so far. How are you feeling?"
"Better than ever," he lies. I can hear the whine in his throat, trying to hinder himself from coughing. I pressed my lips into a saddened smile, though he couldn't see it.

"I forgot to ask," Noah breaks the silence after a moment. "Have you been to a doctor since you found out?"
I shake my head lightly. "Not yet, but I have an appointment with an OBGYN next week."
"Good," he whispers, pressing his lips in my hair. "Would you like me to come?"
I shifted slightly so I could look at him over my shoulder. "Would you come?" I asked hesitantly.
He flashes me a sheepish grin, his eyes glimmering with candor. "If you wanted me to, of course I would. We went over this last night, didn't we?"
My heart swells and I smile wide, tears filling my eyes. Stupid pregnancy hormones. I already cry enough as it is. "Then yes, I would like you to come with me," I tell him, my voice quivering.