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“I look in your eyes and it still feels like
Like we just”
Andrew, the cutest kid in the whole wide world—who says so? Me! I’ve officially declared that my Andrew is at the top of the cutest kids' list, and I’ll fight anyone who disagrees.
“I just want to bite those cheeks!” I said, staring at his cherubic face in awe. Seriously, they’re so round and soft, like little marshmallows. Not that I’m literally going to bite him—I’m not a psycho—but the urge is so real. I mean, who could resist? Well… obviously, I can, but you get the idea. Sigh.
“Love, are you alright?” Zayn asked, his tone laced with concern as he eyed me warily. What? Did he really think I might actually, literally, practically bite Andrew's cheeks? I mean, sure, I’ve got a bit of a wild streak, but come on.
“I wouldn’t actually bite him. Calm down!” I reassured Zayn, waving off his worry. “Besides, I don’t want to face Ace’s wrath.”
And I didn’t. Ace would kill me without hesitation if I left even a tiny nibble mark on his precious boy. Zayn, too, would murder anyone who so much as laid a finger on Andrew—except for the man standing before us in a pristine white coat, glasses perched neatly on the bridge of his nose, and a warm smile plastered on his face as he looked at our Andrew.
Zayn cleared his throat in that ominous way of his. “Doctor Whatever, you know the rule, right? One single tear, and I’ll tear you up,” he declared, his voice carrying the kind of authority that made grown men quake. It was almost poetic, really.
My eyes went wide. Was he serious right now? “Zayn!” I yanked him back, embarrassed. “Sorry, Doctor. He’s just a little protective,” I said quickly, throwing the poor doctor an apologetic look. The man looked like he was about to be eaten alive—by Zayn, not me. Though Zayn could definitely maim him if he felt like it.
“Please, proceed with the checkup,” I added, trying to sound more professional. “With caution.”
Zayn sighed but didn’t stop glaring at the doctor. What was his name again? Donny? Tony? Rony? Ron! Right, it was Ron, wasn’t it?
“Wasn’t his name Ron?” I whispered to Zayn.
“All I know is that he’s the best pediatrician,” Zayn replied, not even glancing at the name tag. Classic Zayn—more concerned with credentials than names.
The doctor, who was indeed named Ron (or something close to it), began the checkup, meticulously examining Andrew’s body, height, weight, and overall health. Everything was going smoothly—until it was time for his first vaccine. This is when things got real. Now, Andrew isn’t one of those hyperactive, annoyingly disruptive kids. He’s calm, cooperative, and an absolute angel. Nothing about him is remotely disturbing or annoying. He’s perfection in toddler form. Even during the checkup, he sat perfectly still, letting the doctor do his work without a fuss.
But then… the needle appeared. My maternal instincts kicked in like a gut punch. My arms wrapped around Andrew before I even realized it, shielding him from the impending doom of the syringe. My heart began to race like a rabbit on a sugar high. Why did this tiny needle feel like a threat to everything good in the world? Anxiety, the uninvited guest, made itself comfortable in my chest, settling in like it owned the place.
“I’m scared,” I confessed, because what else could I say?
Zayn’s arm wrapped around my waist, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Don’t worry, love. Our son is strong,” he whispered, his voice calm and reassuring. But did he just say… ‘our’ son?
YOU ARE READING
BLOOD AND HEART
Aksi"He had many people's blood on his hands and one woman in his heart." She woke up with a pounding headache, a strange tattoo, and memories of her family being brutally attacked. All because of the documents she stole. Now, protected by one of the wo...
