ROCKSTAR ⇒ jegulus

TWENTY EIGHT

James tries not to squirm while the stylist makes her thorough, delicate, adjustments, swapping his clothes around. He tries not to sigh in frustration, in sheer embarrassment, as she tries to zip a pair of jeans up.

"I've never had a pregnant client before. I love getting to style you, although Sirius is usually my favourite one to dress; he's just so captivating!"

James just hums in response. Sirius is a lot thinner than I am right now, so why don't we just bloody focus on what the hell to put me in?

"You don't seem very comfortable, darling," The stylists comments. "We can take a break if you'd like to? The shoot isn't for another hour or so,"

James sighs, biting his lip. "No, I'm fine," He breezes. "Just...do you have anything in a bigger size?" He tries not to grimace when the words leave his mouth, he really does try.

"Tell you what," The stylist starts. "I'll go check the back room for something else for you to wear, and you just take a moment to breathe and use that kettle over there to make yourself a cup of tea," She smiles sweetly, leaving him to his own devices.

James does not make a cup of tea. He, instead, crosses the room and picks up his phone from where it had been sitting on the coffee table. He takes a seat on the plush, velvet couch, turning on his phone.

James spies a text from Regulus as soon as he does so; it had been sent sometime this morning, probably before Regulus had headed out the door for work that morning.

Not that you'll be needing it, but best of luck today. You and Stell will smash it. Try not to worry too much about any of it, you'll be great. Give me a call later to tell me how you get on, rockstar.

You and Stell.

James smiles, biting his lip; his cheeks flushing, as he types his response. Thank you for thinking of me, still trying to find a pair of pants that bloody closes over me; but as long as Stella is growing that's all that matters to me right now. I'll talk to you later!

James sighs, placing his phone back down onto the coffee table's sleek surface. He glances down at his attire, at his body.

He's been dressed in a white shirt, and black jeans that won't close just yet; his bump distinct around the fabric of the white shirt, swollen and distended from his hips. The hairstylist had already been in earlier to tousle his hair about, strands of his messy, raven hair hanging in his eyes.

James rests a hand on his belly, making small, soothing, movements. His fingers roaming softly against his belly. His other hand is resting against his cheek. "How are we doing in there, little doll?" James hums, rubbing at the underside of his bump. Stella serves him an ever so slight kick, and James chuckles. "I know, I'm not too fond of any of this either, baby girl," He muses. "But it's got to be done, eh?"

The stylist renters the room. "I was looking for some extra jeans, and I just had a thought," She chirps. "Why hide the fact that you're pregnant?" She asks. "Why not leave the jeans unbuttoned, just a tad? It'd be very liberal, very forward, bold, even," She suggests. She shrugs. "But only if you're comfortable with it, honey, there's no pressure, I can go and find something that you'd be more comfortable in either,"

James looks up to her, his expression unsure. "I...I don't know," He says, his voice growing uncertain 

"I mean, looking at you now; a hand to your bump, face resting against your knuckles," She pauses. "It's a very natural look; it'd make a lovely shot," She smiles at him.

James frowns a little. "Are...are you sure it won't just look like I've been squeezed into these jeans?" He questions quietly.

"Not at all," The stylist promises him. "You're extremely handsome, you know, the outfit won't change that,"