The Kissing Pact - One Shot

One Shot: Gabriel Freaking Everett !!

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Ella's POV

Gabe is being a total jerk today. He knows how angry I get when he acts like a seventeen-year-old at twenty five! urgh... Sometimes I feel like marrying him was my biggest mistake and than the next moment, I wanna strangle myself for even bringing that thought to my mind. I mean, he's so adorable despite all the seasonal jerkiness.

Okay, so after three months of our marriage and five months of being pregnant, all I get is: my husband ignoring me on a Sunday morning. But it wasn't entirely my fault...okay, maybe it was; but... He can't ignore me right? Like, months of mood swings, irregular bladder, bearing another human in my body and then fixing up and cleaning the house... blame a girl for so much!

He got angry because I was rambling about how untidy he is and then I took it to a whole new level (oh yes, I am Ella Rosewood, as you also know me as the troublemaker) I dramatically snapped at him for not paying attention to me and stopped listening to his continuous apologies and explanations and that was it. My GabyPoo got pissed.

Well, OK, I was at fault.

Get a grip before the hormones start kicking in, Elle.

Oh how I love my conscience. It never leaves me, no matter how old I become. And then I saw Gabriel coming out of the shower. I pretended to not look at him from beneath the pile of comforter but I couldn't help it. Those blue eyes are still as smoky as they were in high school and his messy wet brown hair just made me want to run and kiss him. But:

1. He would refuse.

2. Running in this situation is pretty risky.

So I just sank in bed, stealthily staring at his bare abs, admiring them internally, while my cheeks fumed with heat just like it did when I was a teen. Gabriel muttered, thinking I wouldn't hear, "She is still the jerkette she used to be. Why wouldn't she just make a move and talk to me? It's not like it'll cost her British pounds!"

That. Was. A. Very. Bad. Move.

"GABRIEL FUCKING EVERETT. How DARE you?! And jerkette is not an English word!" I shouted.

"Oops. Queen Elizabeth is up! Tudors are gonna attack me now." He said, smirking sarcastically.

I threw off my comforter, and was almost jumping out of the bed, when Gabriel pushed me back in and was on top of me, but maintaining distance from my belly to keep the baby safe (aww, daddy Gaby Poo). "Get off of me, you jerk!" I pushed his face, which was on my nose now.

"Na-ah, Ellie. The baby must know her father's a champion."

"How do you know it's a she?" I narrowed my eyes, if there was enough space to do so.

"Because I know. It is a girl."

"It's not. It's a boy."

"Girl."

"Boy."

"GIRL!" He raised his voice.

"BOY!" I raised mine higher.

"Whatever, Ellie. We aren't talking, just so you know." He got off the bed, making his way to the kitchen, taking long strides to get away quickly.

I was shook out of the argument. I didn't know why, I had the urge to keep it going. Like, it gave me a fair excuse to fix things between us. But he- JERK.

Note to baby: Your dad's a jerk.

Just for the sake of argument, I did say I wanted the baby to be a boy, but underneath I wanted his wish to come true. I remember his prediction 7 years ago, how we'll name our first child Clara and the second Ethan. I noticed how cute he looks when he argues. He has a kind of evil expression which is also adorable at the same and it keeps me wanting more of his presence.