wrong one//g.d

f i f t y

AN// hey guys! if this sounds familiar too, it's from my sad imagine book. it was an imagine for gray called staying and i thought it would fit perfectly with this story, so i decided to throw it in!! i didNT steal it, its from my own book, i wrote it myself :) i just wanted to point that out real quick xx (also: fifty? FIFTY CHAPTERS im so proud of myself)

(y/n pov)

You closed your eyes tight as you heard the front door open. You'd been trying to sleep, you really had.

It just wasn't coming.

You heard it shut and lock and then the noise went missing as Gray headed up the stairs and to your bedroom.

He opened the door slightly to see the lights off, you curled up on your side of the bed. He sighed as he stepped in, heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Once he was done that, he got into bed, clothes changed and face washed. And it was then that you had to sneeze.

"Bless you," he whispered. You thanked him in a whisper back. "You been up?"

"Yeah."

"You're supposed to sleep more," he grumbled. "What the hell, y/n?"

"What the fuck's your problem, Grayson?" you asked sitting up. Now you were fighting in the dark.

"My problem?" he asked. "The fuck's your problem-- intentionally hurting our baby--"

"Intentionally?" you asked. "What's wrong with you, Grayson?"

"You know that not sleeping enough is hurting her, so just fucking sleep, for god's sake--"

"I can't fucking sleep because of you, Grayson!" He stared at the side of your face that was illuminated by the window behind you. "I'm too worried about you and us, to fucking sleep!"

"How's that my fucking fault-- stop worrying?" You were crying now. How could he put the blame on you? "We're fine-- I'm fine."

"No, we're not!" you yelled. He frowned. "Look at us Gray, we can't fucking stop this crap--"

"Stress isn't good for the baby," he mumbled.

"You think I don't fucking know that?" He didn't say anything and you took the moment to confide in him. "It's not growing properly."

He looked up. "What?"

"The baby," you exclaimed. "She's supposed to be bigger-- I'm supposed to be bigger," you whispered.

"What-- why?" You shrugged. "You didn't ask why?" You didn't want to tell him. "Are you eating enough?"

"Yeah."

"Taking all your prenatal stuff?" You nodded. "Maybe it has something to do with your lack of sleep." You didn't respond.

"Hm."

"What?" he asked straightening up. "Is that it?" You didn't respond. "Fuck, y/n."

"It's not my fault," you whispered. He shook his head, lying down. As he rolled away to face away from you, you wiped at your eyes.

"I don't see how it isn't."

"This is why this is a bad idea," you whispered. He turned a little to hear you better. "Because we're not working right now."

"What's a bad idea?"

"Having a baby."

"What the fu--"

"Gray, we can't stand in the same room without arguing." He let out a sigh, turning to face you again. "That's not good for a-- a potential baby, Grayson." He softened.