Y/n's POV
"And that's why," His murmurs through the phone make me shiver of happiness, or maybe it's just the fact of me feeling so loved, but either way it feels amazing, "i love you, there I have named off at least 50% of why I love you," he laughs at the end making me giggle.
I check the time seeing it's midnight, we've been on the phone for a whole hour and I sigh in disappointment, he'll have to go soon.
"Shawn where's my other 50%," I say in a childish tone, grinning widely to myself.
"Your other 50 is for tomorrow baby girl, I need to go soon," His tone reads uncomfortable, he hates not being able to talk to me.
"That's okay," i smile unconvincingly to myself, I really wish we had a schedule for phone calls because it's a shot in the dark when it comes to communicating with shawn. I fight back tears as I focus on his shaky breathing.
"You know," he pauses, me being able to hear him take in a deep breath, "I wish I could be there for you more, I realize how unfair this is."
A tear falls down my cheek, maybe it's because of the hormones of being pregnant, but I really don't want shawn to end up worrying about me.
"Baby boy I promise I'm okay, besides in a month you'll be here and you'll see your daughter when she's born," I laugh out of excitement, the tears still falling, "a-and we'll raise her together." I let out a sniffle involuntarily, it dawning on me that I just gave away I was crying.
"God I made you cry again didn't I," I can basically hear him put his heads in his hands out of defeat and I roll over on my side on the bed.
"No I'm not," I lie, the last thing he needs is more stress before his big show tomorrow, "I'm just you know hormonal, can't exactly control my emotions," I laugh trying to bring the mood of the conversation to a light hearted state, failing miserably.
I hear someone on shawn's end, probably andrew, telling him that he needs to go and I hear him scoff angrily, "tomorrow," he says confidently, "tomorrow I'm calling you and I don't care what I miss, what damn interview he has booked for me and we'll talk until we're bored of each other and just begging to hang up," the anger in his voice makes me look down, saddened, wishing I could cure his stress and make him happy all the time, kind of like he used to be.
"And if you can't," i croak trying to comfort him, "don't worry about it, I know you have a lot to do."
He whispers goodnight and that he loves me, and I end up drifting off in a peaceful sleep wishing he'd come home.
________________________________________~well that sucked.
~Leah
