Chapter 5

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Heyyyy. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

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Hamilton seemed rather pissed when he came to pick us up.

Thomas was pretty much asleep when he got there, small snoring sounds coming from his bushy hair. His head was resting on the steering wheel, one hand on his stomach.

"I am not picking him up," Alexander said, sounding tetchy. Incredibly tetchy.

"Who put laxatives in your coffee this morning?" I asked testily, pretty pissed myself. He gave me a dirty look. "I'll wake him up."

Lightly tapping his shoulder, I murmured something to him about getting up. He simply mumbled incoherently. Hamilton rolled his eyes and gave him a hard shake. Thomas leapt a foot in the air, yelling about something or other as the horn beeping loudly. Unfortunately, the top of the car door got in the way and he whacked his head on it. He slumped back in the seat, groaning and clutching his head.

"Oh my God, are you okay!?" I yelled, trying to pry his hand away from his head. "Here, baby, let me look."

Trembling a little, he let me see his head. A small bruise was beginning to form, a tiny, shallow cut, but other than that he seemed okay.

"I-is the baby alright?" he stammered, clutching at my hands. He was on the verge of an anxiety attack, his breathing quick and panicky. "Sebastian has to be alright!"

"He's fine, Seb- hang on a sec," I said, suddenly stopping as I realising what he'd said. "Sebastian? You've picked out names?"

"Sebastian or Eston for a boy, Martha or Lucy for a girl," he muttered, looking ashamedly at the floor.

"I love them," I replied, completely truthfully as well. He stopped for a moment, then beamed at me after throwing a murderous look Alex's way. "Drive us home now?" I said to Alex, who nodded in a way which can only be described as loathingly.

"Move, Jeffershit," he grumbled, pointing a finger to the back seat.

"Jesus Christ, who shoved a stick up your ass?" Tom shot back, scrambling slowly into the back seat. Hamilton narrowed his eyes and got huffily into the car, slamming the door. Thomas groaned and slung an arm over his eyes.

Alexander pulled out at a ridiculous speed, the tyres squeaking on the tarmac. I gripped the side of the dashboard, glancing back at Tom. He looked terrified, both arms now wrapped securely around his belly.

"Slow down!" I snapped to Hamilton, who gave me a nasty look, but took his foot off of the accelerator a little. Thomas didn't relax.

Thank God the ride home wasn't more than 10 minutes. I didn't think me, Thomas or our unborn child could've handled it for any longer. By the time we got back, Thomas was panting, sitting bolt upright. Hamilton pulled up, the tyres squealing.

"You'll have to walk back," Thomas said, trembling as I helped him out. Hamilton looked disgusted, huffing as he turned on his heel and stalked down the road without so much as a goodbye. I raised my eyebrows and unlocked the door.

"I don't feel so good," Thomas groaned putting a hand to his head. "I think I'm gonna lie down for a bit."

"I'll join you," I replied, and we got changed before crawling into bed together. Thomas was shirtless, dressed in a pair of pyjama trousers, but I still wore a t-shirt. You know why.

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