Just A Few Numbers Away

Chapter 160

The Crucible

At thirty-seven weeks pregnant, she had officially crossed into early term, with just two weeks left until full-term.

The nursery was fully stocked, Gi-an was moving with strong, deliberate rolls that made Yoongi press his face right against her shirt in awe, and the final countdown to holding their baby boy had officially begun.

​Aen stood in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom, pressing a hand to the top of her bump as she caught her reflection.

Then, a pair of familiar, warm arms slipped softly around her waist, pulling her back against a solid, comforting chest.

Yoongi rested his chin gently on her shoulder, his dark eyes meeting hers in the glass.

​A soft, breathless smile touched his lips as he pressed a tender kiss to the curve of her neck, his hands resting protectively over her swollen belly.

​"My beautiful Yeobo," Yoongi murmured, his voice a low, rumbling whisper against her skin.

"Look at you... look at us."

​Aen covered his hands with hers, leaning back into his embrace as a profound wave of peace washed over her.

The long months, the physical exhaustion of the third trimester-it all melted away in the steady, anchoring warmth of his hold.

​"We're almost there, Yoon," she whispered back, watching the way his smile softened into something infinitely fond.

​"Yeah," Yoongi agreed, closing his eyes as he felt a familiar, gentle nudge from their son against his palms.

"Almost time to meet our boy."

***

Two weeks has passed by and the quiet peace of the morning shattered without warning.

​Aen had just taken a few steps away from the dresser when a sudden, searing wave of pressure seized her lower back, wrapping tightly around her abdomen with a breathless, crushing intensity.

​Her breath hitched sharply, her fingers flying out to catch the edge of the bedframe as her knees buckled under the sudden shock of it.

​"Yoon-" she gasped out, the sound strained and breathless as another fierce contraction tore through her, stealing the words right out of her lungs.

​Yoongi, who had been folding a stack of tiny cotton onesies across the room, dropped them instantly.

In a split second, the easy warmth vanished from his face, replaced by sharp, blinding panic.

​He was across the room before she could even blink, his strong hands catching her by the waist and shoulders as she doubled over, trembling from the sheer force of the pain.

​"Aen-ah? Yeobo, look at me," Yoongi ordered, his voice tight, adrenaline spiking hot and fast in his veins as he felt the hardness of her bump contract beneath his palms.

"Is it-is it time? Right now?"

​"It... it hurts so bad," Aen choked out, her fingernails biting into the fabric of his shirt as her water broke, a sudden, warm rush soaking against the hardwood floor between them.

​Yoongi didn't hesitate for a single second.

The meticulous, calm producer was entirely gone; in his place was a man entirely driven by fierce, protective instinct.