I'd Dye For You || m.c.

Epilogue

*6 years later*
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Zoë's POV

"Get back here this instant!" I hear Michael yell to little Asskicker. Our sweet little muffins' real name is Quinn, but we came up with the nickname after she practically pinned Michael down in one of their wrestling matches. Pretty impressive for a four year old.

"Qui - no get away from that! Zoë would you mind helping me?" He yells desperately. She'd gotten ahold of his guitar again and was banging on the strings trying to get it to make noise.

I sigh before hoisting my 8 month pregnant body up off the recliner. I waddle over to the scene and smile lovingly down at the two cutie pies before me.

"Quinny, would you please let go of that for papa?" I ask her sweetly. She looks hesitant at first, but quickly obeys and hands him back the guitar.

"Such a mamas girl you are." He chuckles, tugging her over to him before starting a tickle war.

"Hehe daddy - please heheh - please stop heheh." She begs through her giggles. He releases her from his attack and she scurries off to her room to hide from the tickle monster.

"She's so cute." I laugh, subconsciously placing my hands on my extended belly.

"Just like her mama." He smiles, walking over and placing his hand over mine. "Just like this ones gonna be, too." He murmurs, engulfed in amazement by the sight of my huge belly.

"Mhm, I'm so ready for this fucker to be out though. So much harder than Quinn was." I grumble, making my way to one of the bar stools at the kitchen island.

Ashton had moved out to give us more room when we told him we were expecting the first time. He didn't really mind because he was planning on moving in with Niall anyway. Currently, they are engaged and planning their own wedding which will be in the fall of this year.

"Honey, if you're that uncomfortable maybe you shouldn't walk around so much. I can handle the chores and take care of Quinn. Just take it easy, you've got a freakin watermelon strapped to your torso." He says, taking my arm to try and lead me to the bedroom. I roughly pull my arm out of his grip and give him a nasty glare.

"I don't need to lay down. Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't do anything." I snarl, hormones obviously taking some control.

"Would you at least lay on the couch? That chair can't be comfortable for your back." He offers. I roll my eyes before getting up and moving to the sofa. I lay down and Michael lays a pillow behind my head.

"Better?" He asks, knowing he was right.

"Whatever, just get me a bag of pretzels and some mustard." I order. My most recent craving was mustard on anything. Couldn't get enough of the stuff.

"Right on it." He says perkily, rushing off to get me the snack.

During the first pregnancy I was way worse than this. I would yell and scream at him almost constantly, ordering him around like he was my slave. I've cooled down during this one but I still have my moments.

Michael returns soon with what I wanted and I thank him with a smile. He takes a seat on one of the chairs across the living room and turns on the tv. We watch a stupid program about whirlpools for about 15 minutes before I hear a thudding of feet running down the stairs.

"Mama! Daddy! Look I'm a princess!" She squeals, prancing around in her pink princess dress and silver plastic crown.

"Oh my goodness! How have we been so lucky as to find such a beautiful princess in our home?" Michael asks dramatically, making Quinn giggle hysterically.