~Rachel's P.O.V.~
I wake up cuddled against my pillow, an empty space beside me. My eyes shoot open and fear strikes my heart. The sheets are pulled back and I start to breathe heavily, he couldn't have left. I quickly move to his side of the bed and glance on the floor, his clothes are still there. He's here. Thank God.
I look around my room for a second and see the bathroom door is closed with the lights on. My chest tightens and I feel another wave of fear for some reason. I get up from the bed and walk to the door, shoving it open. He turns to me as soon as I enter. He's standing at the sink in nothing but those perfectly fitting grey joggers. His hands are unwrapped allowing him to study the damage. I let out a big sigh of relief and make my way over to him, hugging him from behind and resting my head on his naked back.
"I thought you left." I say as he rinses the dried blood from his hands.
"Will you wrap me up again?" He asks, drying his hands now.
I nod against his back and then release him. He sits down on the edge of the bathtub and I get some new gauze out of a drawer. He holds his hand out exactly how he did last night and lets me repeat the process all over again.
"Does it hurt?" I ask him, trying not to wrap him up too tight.
He shakes his head. Even if it did he wouldn't tell me. As I begin to wrap up his right hand I notice that it's significantly more bruised than his left.
"I saw the dent in your car." I point out in a non hostile way. "Was that you?"
He nods once, kind of embarrassed of it. Well, that would explain the bruising. I finish bandaging his hands and wedge myself between his legs. My hands fall to his shoulders, heating up instantly from his body temperature. He sighs and then glances up at me briefly.
"I love you." I tell him for no reason at all.
The side of his mouth curls into a short smile. I watch his hands raise up to my stomach and he leans forward, pressing a long kiss to it against the fabric of my shirt.
"I love you too." He tells me, and then looks back up at me with shimmering blue eyes. "Both of you."
Tears of joy and sadness tug at the corners of my eyes. He loves us. No matter what, he loves us. Even if, and God forbid, it's not his. I reach down and grab his hands, lacing my fingers with his. He retracts his and I watch as he presses them against my stomach. It's strange to watch him really process the information, I'm pregnant.
His thumbs rub the fabric of my shirt gently and I can't help but just stare at the bandages. He has a fight tonight and I'm worried he won't be able to handle it. He needs some kind of relief even though he'll deny everything.
"Are you going to be able to fight?" I ask him quietly, treading water. I know he doesn't want to talk about this, he never does.
"I have to." He says, looking at me like it's the last time he ever will. "I have to win tonight."
"You will." I reassure him, twisting the hair at the base of his neck. "You always do baby."
He springs up, causing me to stumble back. Of course he catches me, scooping me up around the waist and backing us up against the wall of my bathroom. My heart pumps blood fiercely throughout the rest of my body and I lock eyes with him. He has that familiar look in his eye, the one that makes me ache for him in every way possible.
"W-What are you-"
"Shh." He shushes me, and I feel his hand rubbing against the lace of my underwear. "I want you to make me feel good before I go get the shit kicked out of me tonight."
He laughs as though it's a joke and I tap his crotch. He whines in fake pain and then smiles, planting a kiss on my neck.
"Something tells me I'll be getting the shit kicked out of me right now." He jokes, his laughter rumbling from his lips right against my neck.
