"We should probably get up," I mumble, sliding off Niall's chest. "We need to get the bed's for the twins and I won't feel safe until we atleast get a restraining order. If you're right about how crazy she is, I don't want the twins or my baby around that."
"Our baby," He corrects, sitting up and reaching forward, grasping my hands in his. "And we need to get down to the center and arrange for when the twins will be coming. Hopefully soon."
"Exactly! If we get the bed's and rooms set up they can be here by either tonight or tomorrow morning! Now come on! Get up, put some actual pants on, and lets get a move on!"
"You're very excited." He mumbles, pulling on his shirt and grabbing his phone.
"It's the hormones," I murmur and grab my bag. "They're everywhere, I don't even want to think about what it's going to be like farther along."
"I do. I can't wait until you're stomach gets in the way and you're waddling around, and complaining about how you're hungry, or about how tired you are, or how much you want to cuddle." He wraps his arms around my waist, nuzzling his head into my shoulder.
"You're the cutest man alive, but now's not the time. We have to get going, okay?" I tap his chest and grab my bag. "Like, right not. Let's go!" He laughs walking out the bedroom door, me following behind him. "Do you have your keys?"
"Where are they?"
"Who's shoes are those?" I ask and point to the red high heels leaned up against the wall.
"Aren't they yours?" Niall asks, raising an eyebrow.
"No, you know I don't wear high heels."
"Than who the hell are they?"
"Mine."
