The Artist [h.s.]

fourteen

Harry had just pushed the crib up to the wall when Carter spoke softly, "I haven't felt her kick in a while..."

Harry stood up, rolled his shoulders, and wiped his hands on the back of his jeans, "Huh. I'm sure it's nothing, sweetheart. Sometimes there are babies that don't move around or kick as much."

He smiled at her warmly and she sighed softly in return, "You're right. Doesn't mean that I don't miss it though."

She missed more than what she told him, but he was probably right. Every baby was different and she didn't need to be thinking negatively again.

Harry kissed her softly and linked their hands, "I love you."

Carter smiled, he always knew how to make her feel better, sometimes without saying a single word, "I love you too."

"So, since we spent all day finishing up this beautiful nursery, how about we go out for a nice dinner? Sorry, no wine for you Mrs. Soon-to-be-a-mummy."

In all reality, he did all of the work with the nursery. All Carter did was pick out furniture and watch as he assembled and arranged it all. But, she wasn't going to say no to a nice dinner and she adored the look on his face whenever he mentioned the fact that they were going to be parents soon.

"For the record, you did absolutely all of the work, and, yes, I would love to go out for a nice dinner Mr. Soon-to-be-a-daddy."

Harry laughed and playfully rolled his eyes, she'd added the little remark at the end just to make fun of him, but he didn't mind it at all. "Nice-nice, or normal nice?"

Carter thought about the question for a moment, weighing her options. She really loved it when he wore a suit, she found that he was ten times more attractive when he did, but she didn't feel like dressing up and normal nice was always better than nice-nice.

"Normal nice, I vote pizza."

Harry laughed again and Carter took a moment to revel in the sound. He still hated his laugh, but he hadn't ever hidden it from her and she loved it to death, especially when it was the really high pitched one that made him cover his mouth with his hands and brought out all the crinkles by his eyes.

"Whatever you want, sweetheart." He knew better than to argue at this point. Sometimes she even changed her mind last minute so there was really no point, that and hormones were a scary thing to deal with.

They were heading out the door only a few minutes later and Carter regretted not choosing nice-nice because a) Harry in suits was her absolute favourite (besides when he was naked anyway), b) She missed out on all the kisses Harry would give her while she got dressed and she also missed his hands over her stomach, and c) she kind of wanted to dress up now that they were leaving.

She didn't say anything though and pushed the thought aside, just being with Harry was enough to keep her happy, even if he accidentally pushed her buttons recently.

Harry held her hand the entire car ride, his fingers squeezing hers lightly every now and then and his thumb running over the top of hers.

He could tell that she didn't feel right for more than one reason and was trying to comfort her without prying or upsetting her. Carter appreciated his actions tremendously. She really didn't want to talk about how upset it was making her that their little girl had just decided to not be as frequent with her kicks or how she felt detached, like she'd lost her. Talking about it would only make it real and she didn't want it to be real; she didn't know if she could handle it again, especially at six months.

There was also the fact that she felt like something else was wrong. It felt like someone was following them or watching them and it made her beyond nervous and beyond uncomfortable.