Michael Clifford Shorts

BGM - I Don't Want to Look

Haha I promise that this is actually a Michael BGM

Michael:
You paced the room worriedly, clenching and unclenching your fists as anxiety crashed through you in waves. Was it time? Did you want it to be time?

Michael was a stark contrast, your husband was sprawled out on the bed, eating potato chips and staring at you.

"You should really relax," he commented unhelpfully.

"I can't," you groaned and laced your hands through your hair, tugging lightly. "How much time is left?"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You froze and your head whipped down to your phone laying on the bedspread at Michael's feet. Suddenly the air became a whole lot thicker and you had trouble breathing it in.

With a slight tremble in your hands, you reached over and swiftly turned the alarm off.

Michael raised his eyebrows and grinned at you, unlike you, he was all optimism. "Well? Are you ready to look?" He nodded his head in the direction of the closed bathroom door. There, sitting on the edge of the sink was a little pink stick that meant everything to you.

Ever since 5SOS had taken an extended break from touring, you and Michael had been able to more properly settle down. You bought a new house, got another dog, and managed to not kill your house plants. In other words, you were responsible adults now. A happy married couple that had everything but the one thing they wanted most. A baby.

As long as you and Michael had been serious, the two of you had been talking about kids. You both loved them, and wanted one (or two, or three, or eight) of your own, and this was your chance.

But you had been trying for months and thus far you were not pregnant. With every passing period you grew more and more disheartened. What if there was something wrong and you couldn't have children? What would Michael think of you then?

It was an irrational, but very real fear that periodically swirled in the back of your mind. You didn't want to disappoint him or yourself, and you wanted to be able to carry a child. If you couldn't you'd be crushed. There were plenty of wonderful alternatives of course, but you had been trying so hard to be pregnant you'd feel like a fool and a failure if it was all for nothing.

"Babe," Michael pulled you out of your worry-fueled haze with a comforting tone, "no matter what the pee-stick says, we're gonna be fine."

"We'll be fine," you repeated, still rather unconvinced.

Michael sighed and put down the chips. He got off of the bed, which was no small feat, and walked over to you.

"Y/N," a warm hand caressed your left cheek, "it's gonna be alright."

You smiled slightly and leaned into the touch, putting your own hand over his own. "I know," you murmured, "but I also know how much you want a baby and how much I want a baby too. I just don't want it to be negative. Again."

"I do want to have baby with you baby, but don't stress yourself all out over this one test," Michael's other hand moved to your lower stomach, "first of all, if you are pregnant that's not good for the little guy, and if you're not there's still nothing to worry about. We haven't been trying that long, and even if we can't have kids biologically there are plenty of children in this world that need a loving home."

His honesty smoothed down your ragged emotions as you nodded in agreement, "you're going to make a great Dad."

He smiled back and leaned in to kiss the tip of your nose, "you'll make a marvelous Mom," his hand dropped to hold yours instead, "but for now, let's go look."

Your fingers interlaced with his and you held on tightly as he guided you to the bathroom doors. You clenched your eyes shut as Michael peered over the sink to look, "you tell me. I don't wanna look."

A few seconds later you got a breathless answer, "Y/N! We're going to be parents!"

Your eyes flew open and you saw Michael holding up the test with two lines proudly. His eyes glimmered with excitement and he smiled wider than you had ever seen before.

"Yes!" You felt yourself growing emotional, happily of course. Tears of joy sprang into your eyes and you sniffled.

You launched yourself into your husband's arms, and he caught you with his free hand, holding you to his chest.

"I love you," you choked out, your face leaking tears into his neck.

"I love you too. You and the baby."

Eight words had never made you so happy.

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