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The wind sways in spirals, catching tree leaves and lifting them into the air, like birds taking flight. Its whistling sounds drown out the pitter-patter of rain tapping against their window.
Louis, curled up in bed, thinks of tiny little fingertips, attached to tiny little hands, smaller than his nose. In the distance, a siren wails, probably a house alarm set off by the wind, and it keeps him up.
He feels uneasy, not just because of the ache in his ankles and lower back and hips, but because of something else he can’t quite put a name on. It makes him want to jump out of his skin for a while, until everything’s gone back to the way it was, back when his stomach was flat and he didn’t feel like peeing every other minute. The house shivers with the force of the wind.
Yes, he’s a grown man, and yes, it’s just a little wind. Still, he feels scared, and then silly for feeling scared at all.
He desperately wants to toss and turn, fidget his way towards comfort the best way he knows how, but his belly gets in the way, and he knows from countless other sleepless nights that any other position would only make the pain worse in the morning. Besides, getting a sleep-hazy Harry to remove his heavy orangutan arm from where it's draped across his waist, cradling his belly, would be much more trouble than it's worth.
Instead, he wiggles his bum back, wanting to feel Harry’s breath closer against the bottom of his neck.
Long ago now his mum had taught him a trick for the times when it all felt too much, back when he’d only just found out about the pregnancy and wanted all the advice he could get. Close your eyes, she’d said, take a deep breath, imagine what it felt like before, when you wanted it more than anything, how happy you were when you found out you were pregnant.
He remembers, of course, wanting a baby with Harry, wanting to start a family and a life together. He still wants that, so badly. But sometimes, all he wants is for this baby to be born already, to be alive and healthy and not inside his tummy where he can feel her every move.
He wonders if she’s confused about what her life has been like so far, if she’s as eager to come into the world as he and Harry are to meet her. Sometimes he wonders if she’s cold or lonely or afraid of the dark.
Suddenly the room lights up, and through the window, lightly covered in sheer drapes, Louis watches a fork of lightning strike the ground like it wants a taste of earth.
The thunder that follows is unexpectedly loud, and it startles him into squeaking out a pathetic little “Harry.”
After a few moments of silence, he tries again.
“Harry?”
He wants to lift his head, but it feels inexplicably heavy, so he uses an elbow instead, right into Harry’s chest.
“Hazza, wake up,” he whispers.
He feels Harry shift, his movement causing the skin of his forearm to lightly brush against the most sensitive side of Louis’ bump. It feels nice.
“Wake up,” he presses, kind of annoyed.
He feels a puff of breath tickle the back of his head as Harry pulls off and rolls onto his back. “‘wassit,” is all Harry manages. Louis twists his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of his stupid, sleepy husband, who yawns out a slurred “are you okay? ‘s the baby okay?”
“Everything fine you knucklehead. She’s just scared,” he says.
Harry’s hands cup his hips, and before Louis knows it he’s being manhandled across the bed, forced onto his other side so he’s facing Harry rather than the window. The bump is enveloped in warmth as Harry’s hands cups it protectively. “She’s scared? The Baby, you mean?” Harry asks, looking like a confused penguin.
Louis loves him. The bump makes it difficult to be as close to Harry as he would like right now, so he settles for burying his fingers into Harry’s sleep-mussed curls and petting softly.
“Yes, she’s scared. It’s the thunder, I think. She can hear it, y’know?”
Harry sits up, crossing his legs underneath his knees, and rubs a tired hand over his squinty eyes. “How d’you know?” He asks.
Louis glares daggers, lifting his right foot in an attempt to kick a crater into his husband’s stomach, but of course Harry catches it with a single one of his bear paws and holds it still.
“Let go of me,” Louis snaps, wiggling like a maniac.
Harry doesn’t even flinch. “How do you know she’s scared, baby?” His big thumbs press into the arch of Louis’ foot, massaging gently.
It feels nice.
“I can feel it, okay?” Louis huffs, the fight leaving his body. “Do something, Haz, she’s scared,” he demands, pouting prettily.
Harry’s face goes serious. “Okay, okay,” he mutters, pressing a fleeting kiss onto Louis’ ankle before laying down again, on his side, limbs flailing clumsily. He squirms his body down the bed until he’s laying with his head right across from Louis’ tummy. It’s so blown up by now that not even his two mutant hands splayed wide over it can fully cover it. He can’t keep himself from pressing tiny little kisses on it, licking into Louis’ belly button and laughing when it gets him a smack on the face. He feels the usual thrill tingle down his spine like an electric current at just the thought that this is his daughter. He feels impatient, like he’s been waiting two eternities for her, and now that she’s so close it becomes nearly unbearable.
“Get on it,” Louis whines, irritated.
Harry pays no mind, taking his time. “Hey Baby,” he eventually coos. The shape of the words on his lips rub against Louis, and it tickles.
There’s more silence, and it makes Louis squirm, when he’s the center of Harry’s attention like this. It’s a spotlight he’ll soon have to share, he supposes. He’s not sure how he feels about that yet; he’s almost surprised at how little it upsets him, though.
Just then, thunder rumbles across the sky.
“Hear that? It’s just thunder. Don’t be scared, Baby, it’s just the sky being sad because it wants to meet you so badly.”
Louis groans. “Did you really just--”
“Hush, Lou, I’m talking,” Harry scolds. “I promise, it’s nothing to be scared of. Besides, daddy and I are right here, and we’ll always take care of you, won’t ever let anything hurt you. Right, Lou?”
“Right,” Louis reluctantly agrees.
Harry continues. “Right, see? There’s nothing for you to worry about. All you have to do is grow strong and healthy enough that you can come out and meet us. We’re really excited to meet you, you know? We’ve been waiting a real long time.”
“A very long time,” Louis huffs. He lets his hands drift back down towards Harry’s curls again.
“You’ll love it here, too, Baby. Lou, your daddy, he’ll be such a great dad for you.”
“Harry,” Louis sighs, rolling his eyes to the moon and back. He tugs at Harry’s hair in punishment.
“He will be. He’s the sweetest man I’ve ever know, even though he doesn’t like to think that. And he’s so caring and kind and beautiful, too. Whenever there’s something troubling you, he’ll know how to fix it, and how to make you feel better. That’s just the kind of person he is, you know? Always caring for those he loves, and he always just knows, you won’t even have to tell him if you don’t know the words.”
“Harry,” Louis sighs.
“He’ll be a great dad to you, Baby. You’re so lucky to have him. He’ll never let anything hurt you, trust me, he’ll protect you because that’s just what he does to the people he loves. I love him so much, and you’ll never have to worry about us not being together or anything like that. Because we’ll always be here for you, forever and ever.”
Although the wind has somewhat died down, the rain falls faster and harder. There’s another thunder growl, but it sounds like it’s far away, the hover of an echo.
Harry abruptly looks up at Louis, eyes glittering in mischief. “Is she still scared now?” He asks through his shit-eating grin.
Louis’s mouth twists. “She’s embarrassed because her dad is silly and dumb,” he says.
“So not scared anymore?”
“I guess not,” Louis grits out, but he’s starting to smile now, too.
See? Harry’s got him all figured out.
“That’s good. There’s no reason for her to be scared, you know?” Harry quips. He lifts himself, crawling right over Louis’ body to drape himself along his husband's back, placing an arm back over the belly just like before when they were sleeping.
“I’m right here. If she starts feeling scared again, just wake me and I’ll be right here,” he murmurs sleepily, nuzzling into Louis’ shoulder blade.
“Okay. I reckon she’s okay now, though,” Louis admits, thankful Harry can’t see the way blood has rushed towards his face.
“Can’t wait to be daddies with you,” Harry sighs sleepily, smiling bashfully like a schoolgirl revealing a precious secret. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay? Sleep now, you need rest.”
Louis hums his agreement, letting Harry’s soothing hands pull him to sleep. Later, if he still feels uneasy and weird, he’ll talk about it. Right now, though, he sleeps, resting one of his hands on the bump right over Harry’s and fitting his fingers into the leftover spots. He thinks of puzzle pieces and tiny fingers and tiny hands, smaller, even, than his nose.