"I can't do this. I can't even properly stand straight anymore"
"Oh, honey, just relax. Don't worry"
"That's easy for you to say. You're not the pregnant hippo"
"No, I just have to deal with her", he chuckles, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"That's not even remotely funny, Seth"
"Just…lift your shirt up", he gestures at you.
"Don't tell me what to do"
"Honey, you wanted to do this. If you want to do this properly", he approaches you, his hand covers your hand on your belly, his lips press against yours, "you need to lift your shirt up". His hand tugs underneath your shirt and slowly starts to lift it up.
"This is ridiculous. I don't even look good"
"Nonsense. You're beautiful. You have this… glow…surrounding you", he says near your ear between kisses, his mouth attacks your pulse point.
"Can we just get this over with already?", you say with a sigh, not sharing his esthetical point of view concerning your body.
"We would've already if you hadn't protested", Seth takes a step back and holds up the camera, squinting with one eye. You look back at him, a deep frown upon your face.
"I'm fairly sure you're supposed to look a bit more happy than you're currently showing"
"How can I if I'm not enjoying myself?"
Seth sighs loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. "14 more days, and all of this will be over", he whispers underneath his breath.
"Oh, you just wait", you laugh, too maniac for Seth's liking, "It's not going to get much brighter than this. All hell will break loose after it's here. The sleepless nights, no sex for weeks, someone else sucking on these babies..". You cup your breasts, lifting them up.
"Remind me, why are we doing this again?"
"Child support", you say serious, resulting in a genuine giggle from Seth. Your expression softens when you closely watch his features, his eyes wrinkling with joy, a bright, perfect smile present, "You're just too damn adorable, you know that?"
Immediately, he stops laughing, "Yes. That's what every grown man loves to hear from his darling wife". Abruptly, in an instant, before you can even prepare for it, a quick flash lightens the room, and it hurts your eyes. You blink hard a couple of times, your eyes lightly burning while you slowly regain proper eyesight. Seth looks back at you, a smug grin plastered all over his face. You watch him lick his lips, tongue brushing his parted lips. Straightaway, you let go off of your breasts.
"You're going to delete that picture"
"No. It'll be good for the family album", he says, hiding the camera behind his back. You slowly walk to him, "It's going to be deleted, one way or another"
"Hmm", he smiles, "you'll have to retrieve it from me first"
You purse your lips, "You're really going to do this, aren't you?". He giggles, and before you can run to him to get that damn thing, to rip it from his grasp, he runs away.
"Bastard! The picture still needs to be taken", you shout after him, and in the far distance, you can hear him laugh out loud.
A couple hours later
Seth drops himself down onto the sofa beside you. He places the album in front of you onto the coffee table. He opens it, and flips through it to the back. You give him the photograph and he carefully pasts it in the book.
"There", he says, making sure the photograph is securely stuck to the paper, pressing the edges to make sure it sticks properly. He then takes a hold of a pen and starts to write underneath the picture. You wrap your arm around his waist and place your chin on his shoulder, peeking to see what he's marking down, even though you know what he's doing. You eye his elegant, smooth and beautiful handwriting, "34 weeks", it says just below a picture of you caressing your bare baby bump. You're 34 weeks pregnant and due in two more.
You lay your head to rest on his broad shoulder, and Seth places his against yours after giving you a loving peck on the forehead. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulders, you automatically retrieve your arm from his waist and he draws you closer to him, bodies pressed against one another.
"Are you sure you want to deliver in water?", he hesitantly ask.
"You won't be able to get help straightaway", he coughs, suppressing the emotion that comes to surface, "If anything goes wrong.."
"There will be a doctor present. She's going to help us just fine. Besides, these methods of giving birth are the least painful. My mom completely bashed my father to the ground during labour. I don't want the same thing happen to you"
He smiles, "I have a feeling you're going to verbally abuse me anyway, comfortable or not".
You shrug lightly, "Yeah, probably".
You both chuckle as his hand covers yours, fingers sliding down the back of your hand in a tender manner. His fingers intertwine with yours.
"You're going to be a father soon"
"I know"
"Scared?"
"Terrified"
You smile, your face buried in the crook of his neck, his manly scent overpowering you.
"I meant it", he says you of the blue, confusing you.
"You meant what?", you frown, looking up at him to meet his eyes, but he stares absently in front of him.
"What I said this morning: you're beautiful, even if you're a gigantic, pregnant hippo… or whale", he finally locks gazes with you, he smirks sweetly, his expression softens, his words sincere as those familiar brown pools regard you attentively. You secretly hope you're soon to be daughter or son will inherit more of his gene pool, his genetics, than yours.
You try to envision your child before you. What will he or she look like? What will be its personality? Will it be more skilled with its hands, create things, build thing, like Seth, or will it use its ratio, it's mind, to wander, to float through life, like you?
"Something wrong?", you suddenly hear beside you in a low mumble, interrupting your thoughts.
"What? Hm.. no", you smile, attempting to hide your curiosity concerning your offspring. You catch Seth eying you suspiciously, an eyebrow raised – he's not buying it, yet.
"I was just thinking about how nice this is", you say, crawling against him, your body warming up because of his, placing your hand on his chest while you feel him pulling you even closer to him, "even though you're not much of a cuddler", you quickly add, earing a hearty chuckle. His laughter, accompanied by yours, finally dies own later, his face abruptly serious.
"I'll do anything to protect you two", he whispers. You can barely hear him. You blink a couple of times to register it.
"Anything"
"Well, if you want, you can 'protect' my shoulders?", you ask him hopefully, hoping to lighten the mood as you turn your back to him, pouting. A smug smirk appears when you notice him leaning in and placing those skilful hands of his on your aching shoulder blades. He begins to massage, kneading just right, massaging the right tensed muscles.
Unexpectedly, his phone buzzes, vibrating furiously on the marble of the counter. You roll your eyes. Your mind is in the moment, you're clearly enjoying it and hope to saver it just a little longer. You manage to whisper, "Please, don't pick it up".
"I'm sorry, honey, but I need to get that"
In an instant, his hands disappear from your body, your aching returning. You watch him speed off towards the kitchen to quickly accept the call.
"Seth", he more or less grunts in the phone because he sees you watching him, your eyes begging him – no, pleading him, to come back and spend this day as it should be: together. But, seeing as he's frowning heavily, that's not going to happen.
He places a hand onto his hip. He looks, overall, annoyed, frustrated. You watch how the scenery before you unfolds – a lot of cursing, running a hand through his hair several times and several glimpses in your direction further, Seth ends the conversation, "Okay. I'll be there in 15".
He exhales deeply and you bat your cute puppy eyes at him.
"Please don't give me that look", his gaze is directed at the ground, both hands are positioned on his hips now. He chews onto his lower lip.
"You're supposed to have the day off", you begin to protest, hoping to win him over to your side, desperately hoping he'll change his mind.
"I know", he puts the phone in his pocket after slamming his hand flat against the counter, "But duty calls". He sounds awfully irritated and you shoot him a sad look. You feel let down. He must've noticed, because he approaches you, cups your face in his hands and brushes his lips against yours. He quickly pulls back.
"I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll be home early", his thumb caresses your cheek before he places his lips against yours. You two share an intimate kiss before he pulls back again and starts to make his way to the front door.
"See you tonight", he says, turning round to wave before disappearing into the afternoon sunlight. You slowly wave back, letting yourself – carefully – drop down onto the sofa after the door closes.
You sigh.
There goes your fun quality time together.
You reach out in front of you, grab the remote and turn the TV on.
You suddenly wake up. You leisurely lift your head from the soft, fluffy pillow to stare at the alarm clock on the nightstand beside you.
5:00 AM
Your hand reaches out, fingers digging into the furry sheets. The bed feels cold, empty. He's not there. He didn't come home – again.
You yawn as you sit straight up, stretching yourself out. You've had dinner all by yourself, well, you've shared some with Chester, the old devil. You swallow a couple of times, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You're crestfallen, feeling baffled – Seth always promises, but never seems to follow up on it, even though you believed he would. You always believe. Always.
It might be the current hormones surging through your body, but it starts to piss you off. Annoyed, you go downstairs to get something to drink. Your throat feels extremely dry. You switch the light on in the kitchen and walk towards the refrigerator to get some orange juice.
You pour some in a glass and while you take a sip, you vaguely remember you've forgotten to turn off the television. You turn around, your eyes widen straightaway. You suppose he came through for you, because there he was, laying down on his back on the couch, dozens of papers surrounding him. He's fast asleep, probably fatigued from working practically non-stop without proper time off.
You grab a blanket and pillow from upstairs. You smile to yourself as you make your way to him, noticing how he's surrounded by, what seems like, a dozen copies of the family Griffin and scribbles, which you assume are lyrics. You cover him with the blanket, laying it on him. You gently place the pillow underneath his head and a hand goes through his hair in an affectionate manner. You make sure he's tucked in nicely, the naughty thought of putting his hand in a glass of water strikes you, but you wave it away and head back to bed, flickering the lights off.