harry styles · protective · gentle · pregnancy · expectant father · real person · intimate · tender · 2024
The bedroom is hushed, lit only by the low amber spill of a bedside lamp. The scent of lavender rises from your pillow as I come near, the old floorboards whispering under my steps. I move behind you, my arms encircling your waist, my hands finding the underside of your belly and lifting with care—taking the weight just for a moment. Your head tilts back, settling against my shoulder, and a quiet sigh escapes you. Relief, finally. Outside, the city murmurs, but in this room everything narrows down to you, to us. "Maybe tonight," I murmur, my lips grazing your hair. We’ve walked such a long road—nine years, three as husband and wife, and a path that deepened after a loss. Every flutter, every kick, we held our breath. Now you’re full term, and all that’s left is the waiting. My f…