Our Nine Months [Zarry]

Chapter Twenty-Four

Note: This last chapter, wow oh wow, I'm sad rn. More of this note at the bottom (bottom like Zayn) I want you all to get on with the reading already.

Zayn's POV

 

Six Months Later...

 

3:42 am

 

I am tired. I am so tired. Six months of waking up at un Godly hours of the night to tend to Isaac. Harry's been some help, sometimes getting up to care after the baby, but most often than not it's been me. 

I get out of bed, walking across the hall to Isaac's room. I open the door, walking over to his crib, leaning over it as he stops crying, watching me for a few seconds before he continued on with his previous actions. Fat tears rolled down his chubby cheeks, which were turning red, from all the crying. He reached out to me, small hands balled into tiny fists.

I reached in to pick him up as his tears calmed and his crying quieted down a bit. I laid his head against my shoulder, feeling his tears fall onto my bare shoulder. I rubbed at his back in slow circles, bouncing from foot to foot, and then walked over to the changing table to change him.

After getting him changed and freshened up a bit, cooling down his heated skin, by taking off a few layers. I left Isaac in just an onesie that the light blue with white polka dots scattered around on it. I picked him back up walking over to the rocking chair in the corner of the room, sitting with Isaac in my lap again with his head on my shoulder. By not his cries have stopped and he was more or less quiet. Like any baby he made the odd sound at the random moment.

Isaac was now seven months, just about seven months, maybe a few days or weeks shy from being seven months. He’s grown a bit and has put on some weight after losing some a week or so after he was born. His hair was turning into a curly mess, almost as messy as his fathers; the only difference Isaac's hair had the cute baby softness to it. His hair color had a dark brown color to it, but it was so dark it could pass off as black.

For a baby he sure had intense hazel eyes, that shown through we happiness when you got a smile out of him, which wasn't such a hard job. His skin tone was a soft light olive, almost like the perfect tone mixed between Harry and I. It was still undecided who he looked like more. Personally I'd liked to say he looked like me more because of his eyes and skin tone, but Harry would argue on the fact of his curly and the rare time his eyes looked more green then hazel. When Isaac smiled you could see the dent of a dimple it wasn't deep, but you could tell it was there.

Everything else about him was normal. He was like a normal baby. His is. We still have to keep an eye on his breathing but it's gotten better. It's stabled enough so that he can sleep in his own room with us having to worry too deeply. I remember the first night we have him sleep in his own room; Harry and I had stayed up most of the night to keep an eye on him still. The day after was absolute hell, with one well rested baby and two dead tired fathers. We called in the God-fathers that day. We left the little guy for Liam and Louis to take care of seeing as we were just too tired to keep up with him.

I looked down at the baby in my arms, who was sleeping soundly. I got up walking slowly over to his crib, laying him back in it gently. I stand back watching my baby as he slept peacefully. I jumped, but remained quiet when a hand snaked around my waste. I only then noticed the second person in the room with me. Harry smiled at me, and I turned back to looking at Isaac.