More Than Words (a Pesy story)

I think of you, I'll never be alone

A/N: Title taken from Little Mix's More than Words.

Enjoy!!

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I pick up the phone and then put it down again for the third time in a minute. It's 3am and I don't want to bother her, but who else can I call?

I pick up the phone once again and click her contact before I can talk myself out of it.

"Hello?" she answers groggily, and I immediately regret calling.

"Hey, sorry-" I say, my voice shaky. "I, um."

"Jes, what's wrong?" She asks, suddenly sounding much more awake.

"Well, I. The baby won't stop crying, and I've tried everything and she's not hungry and-and I'm worried she might be sick, and I'm just so tired, Pezza, and I can't-" I say, bursting into tears.

"I'm coming over," she says, and I can already hear her rustling around, looking around the house for a suitable pair of shoes.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"Don't worry, baba. Just give me 15 minutes, okay? I'll be right over."

"Okay," I say, wiping away my tears. Not that it makes a difference, because for every one I wipe away there seems to be 2 to take its place, but whatever. I'm trying. "Love you."

"Love you too. I'll see you in a few, okay?" She says.

"See you in a few," I parrot, hanging up the phone. The baby is still crying from her place in my arms, and I just look down at her, helpless.

"Please tell me what you want," I plead, though I know she can't understand.

She just cries, as she has been all night. I try walking around, bouncing up and down on my feet, and finally she stops crying. But then I start to get dizzy from the bouncing, 'cos I'm just so tired, so I stop because I don't want to drop her and then she starts crying again, so I try and bounce her sitting down but that doesn't work.

I'm legitimately at my wits end when finally, blessedly, I hear a key turn in the door.

Pez has had a key to my house since I moved in, and I've never been more grateful that I gave her one than I am in this moment.

"Hey," she says gently, wrapping me in a hug, squalling baby between us and all. I know I must look a state, with my saggy sweats and my spit-up stained white t-shirt and hair that hasn't been washed in a week, not to mention my tear-stained cheeks and the screaming 5 month old in my arms.

"She wants to be bounced, but I got too dizzy to bounce her 'cos I haven't slept, and I didn't want to drop her, so I tried to bounce her sitting down but she doesn't want to be bounced sitting down and I-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Perrie says softly, placing a gentle hand on my arm. "I can bounce her for a while, okay? I've been asleep since 9pm, so I'm good to go. You go sleep for a bit, alright?"

"Are you sure?" I ask. I desperately need sleep, and even though I trust Perrie completely, the baby's hardly left my side in the five months she's been on this earth.

"Go to sleep, Jes. I've got Parker, she'll be alright. You need to get some sleep to be able to keep taking care of her, right? Just let me have her for a bit, let me get her to sleep, and then I'll bring her into your room. You still keep the bassinet by your bed, yeah?"

"Yeah," I nod.

"Alright, then. Try and sleep, okay? Baby P and I will be in there with you before you know it. Isn't that right, peanut?" she asks the baby, who has quieted down considerably since Perrie started bouncing her. "Go to sleep, Mama," she says in a baby voice.