Harry - ”So, that’s, like… twelve boxes of diapers, we’ll… we’ll need more, right? But that should be enough for at first, um… hang on, just let me grab a few more, I mean, they always say to buy in bulk, right? And who knows? Maybe we can… you know, give them to the neighbours if we end up with… with too many,” Harry flustered himself, pressing his bottom lip between two fingers, twisting the pink pillow of skin, musing. You chuckled and wrapped a hand around his arm, “babe, just grab the boxes. Before I go into labour in aisle five…”
"Well, we can’t have that," he smirked to one side, reaching up for another box to tip into the trolley. He held your waist the way he kissed you, steadying your legs and the swollen life you were carrying in your stomach, "now," he chuckled, before he bit his lip again, "we’ve got enough bibs, right?"
Liam - he squeezed your hand through the doors, one of his pushing the trolley down a path. You chuckled at his eyes searching. He found the shelves stacked with linen and steered the trolley towards them, “so, like, just a few more and then I think we’ll have enough… and what if, what if she doesn’t like pink, you know? And we need enough in her crib so there’s extra padding for her to lay on. Maybe we… we grab some more yellow and make sure there’s enough in case she’s sick on all the ones we have… and, crap, we’ve got a crib, right?”
You skirted around him, turning when you figured out an expression, smiling down at the linoleum flooring all slick at your feet, “yes, Liam,” you nodded, “we have a crib. We got that weeks ago.”
"Good," he tipped a few sheets into the trolley, packing them in neat squares, "good…"
Louis - ”Okay, let’s see, a few bottles, a few bibs, a few… a few… a few… crap, babe,” he turned around, fingers slipping through his hair where he scratched the back of his head, “what else was on the list?”
"We’ve got…" you pursed your lips, eyes running as they scanned the list in your hand, floral stationery you’d torn off the fridge earlier in the evening, "we’ve got formula, right?"
"Formula…" the word dawned on Louis, corners of his mouth erupting before he pulled them back, smiling still at the way your eyes met his, "I don’t think we do… crap, how could we forget formula?"
"It’s okay," you pressed your hands flatly in front of you, "we’ve, we’ve got time, Lou. Due date isn’t for two more nights…"
"Two more nights," he ran his hands through his hair again. He stepped towards you, and wrapped his arms around your waist, lips finding your neck where you’d swept hair back inside your hoodie, "we’ve got time."
Zayn - you watched the way his fingers tapped along the shelves, tips wandering along, pressing in sections. His lips twisted together where he scanned the labels, “you don’t think we need anymore onesies, do you, babe?”
You looked up, from organising everything in the trolley. You dropped a few boxes from your hands, stepping closer to him, “I mean, I think we’ve got enough… we got, like, ten more from the baby shower last week.”
"That’s true," he murmured, "I just… I just feel like we’re forgetting something. Like there’s something we should have but we don’t. I don’t know. I’m just freaking out so close to the due date," he tilted his head to the side, "we’ve got everything, right?"
"Yeah," you rubbed his arm soothingly, grazing your fingertips across the bare skin from under his t-shirt sleeve, "we’ve got everything…"
Niall - ”(Y/N), come on, get in the car,” he called down the hallway, his voice echoing a little in the foyer. You turned around the corner to face him, “I’m pregnant, Niall, and at this point, the best I can do is waddle. Give me a minute,” you muttered to him.
"I know, babe," his expression softened, "I’m sorry… but… I can’t believe we left it this late to get a crib. We’re crazy."
"I know, I know," you ran a few hands through your hair, bundling it up into a bun atop your head, "we’re nuts. But we’ll get it now, and it’s all good, yeah?" You threw a jacket around yourself, slipping your arms into the sleeves.
"It’s all good," he held you up to his chest, rubbing your swollen belly the way he did, kissing the top of your head, "it’s all good."
