Life is Beautiful || 5sos

VIII.

The one where a negotiation is offered; a shower is given; the tip of the iceberg is hit.

||

Lena has come to the decision that being 8 months pregnant has got to be the worst experience ever. Although she is no longer sick - the morning sickness fleeing after the first trimester - and her hormones are nowhere near as explosive as they were just a month ago, she finds that being 8 months pregnant is almost the equivalent of looking like a beached whale. She hasn’t seen the tops of her feet in months and her back is always crawling with aches. Luke tries his best to remind her daily that she is beautiful and that in the end it’ll all be worth it, but Lena really just wants this baby out.

At the moment she is lounging on one of the leather couches that occupies the space in the Hemmings’ living room, the book in her hand now acting as a makeshift fan instead of a piece of literature. She huffs at the heat swarming around her in the house and also outside in the atmosphere. She’s debating on opening the rest of the many windows throughout the house when Luke strolls in through the archway, having just come down the stairs. His blond hair is tucked under a maroon snapback and he has tonal gray paint coloring his nose and cheekbones along with his black t-shirt and basketball shorts being coated as well.

“Everything alright?” Lena questions when Luke plops down next to her on the couch. “You seem a little overwhelmed.”

Luke nods at her and takes a swig of water from the water bottle that’s settled on the coffee table. “I’m fine,” he answers once he’s chugged all the water down his dry throat. “I just never realized how much work and effort it requires to assemble a nursery.” The back of his snapback has come to rest on his paint and sweat covered face as he leans his head back against the top of the couch. Luke’s not exaggerating though; he’s honestly never thought that creating a nursery would be this hectic. Arranging furniture in the other rooms of the house hasn’t necessarily demanded so much putting together and then placing. When he and Lena had first purchased the home, two weeks before their wedding day, the couple already had a few pieces of furniture to move over from their previous apartment and then when the wedding rolled around, they received newer and nicer pieces that came already put together. The only thing that the couple had to do was place and paint.

Now though, Luke has rallied up Calum, Michael, and Ashton to accompany him on his journey of transforming one of the spare bedrooms into a magnificent, calming masterpiece for both Lena and the new baby. Maybe that’s why everything has been so stressful for Luke. Instead of Luke investing in the help of his tasteful wife, Luke has sought help in his three friends who can’t seem to tell the difference between blue and purple or a screwdriver and a wrench. But Luke wants to surprise Lena, which explains why his wife is a little on edge.

It’s not that she doesn’t trust Luke’s color scheme or his ability to arrange furniture in a nice and organized manner (okay, maybe a little bit, but she’d never tell him that).

Lena offers him a sympathetic smile and swings her legs so that they’re now hanging off the couch and her feet touch the plush rug below. She scoots closer to her exhausted husband and her hands soon find his shoulders, her long and slender fingers seeming to work a little magic on his tense, broad shoulders.

“You know,” she whispers after a moment of massaging his shoulders, “if you let me help-”

“No.” Luke deadpans, but doesn’t move a muscle. Lena’s fingers stop dancing lightly across his collarbones and Luke knows for a fact that she is pouting at him, despite the fact that his eyes are closed and he has a hat covering his face. “Luke,” Lena whines, “why can’t I at least help a little bit?” Luke shakes his head back and forth and the snapback falls from his face, allowing him to look at his wife. Sure enough, Lena sits there with her well-mastered pout present on her lips and at first Luke heavily resists the urge to take her right there on the couch (the thought of her large stomach creating a barrier between themselves seems to slip from his mind). “No, Len. I’ve already decided that if I can’t carry our baby around for 9 months and then give birth to him, then the least I can do is design our son’s nursery.”