I awoke not long after to a strong steaming smell of breakfast food. The white soft cotton sheets and blanket were warm and toasty, the afternoon sun shone brightly across them.
My tired eyes blurred and reddened as I rubbed them with my small dry hands.
I pulled on my fluffy white dressing gown over my silky pink pyjamas, the material feeling as soft as could be on my paled and smooth skin. The white fabric made me look even more pale than I thought I really was.
I guess I hadn't been seeing the sun much lately..
I took it off, after realising the white did not go with my skin tone, "should've thought that one through" I whispered to myself. I leaned down and picked up Zayn's dark grey Abercrombie and Fitch tee he had been wearing the night before. I tossed it over my head, smiling as it flowed loosely around my pregnant belly. I smelt the collar it smelt strongly of his familiar scent, pine, spices and something else that I couldn't quite recall, but overall it mixed together and smelt amazing.
I looked in the long white standing mirror (another gorgeous accessory we scored) in the front bedroom corner. My long brunette hair was messy and tasseled down to my belly button. My face was makeup and blemish free. My cheeks were highly moisturised from last nights daily face cleanse routine.
I walked out through the doorway and walked toward the small kitchen next room down. I walked in to see a shirtless Zayn, in white tight boyshorts. I paced up behind him, tapping his butt, and kissing his neck soft and seductively. HIs face changed from concentration to a huge white toothy grin, that seemed to cover his whole face.
"Hey beautiful" he said charmingly in the sexy, hot voice he owned.
Feeling daring and outgoing I replied in a voice I hoped was just as sexy and alluring, "hey handsome" adding in a flirty wink at the end. He giggled and I giggled back in the high pitched laugh I'd unfortunately been born with. Although he confessed to me one night it was one of the many favourite things he 'loves' about me. I'd blushed so hard when he'd said that.
He moved his eyes away from the scrambled eggs and sausages in the two small oily pans on the shiny new stove top. The cloud of smell drifted and exploded in my nose smelling absolutely deliciously divine. Offering all it's marvellous flavours.
I moved to the beautiful white marble island bench in the middle of the small kitchen and sat graciously on the tall white leather barstool.
I dished up the eggs, sausages and bacon onto two black acrylic plates. Harper at only a little bit more than me, but a lot more than her usual amount. I sat down beside her to her left, and we both ate in silence. The doctor says she needs to eat more to feed for her and the baby. Her appetite and hunger agrees. I smirked quietly. She looked up from her breakfast smiling,
"what?" she asked teasingly.
"nothing" I teased back, while poking her in the ribs, her tickles spot. She squirmed uncontrollably and dropped her fork onto her plate with a clang. She rushed from the kitchen into our bathroom.
I could here her throwing up loudly. I rushed after her. As I ran through the door, I saw her hair sprawled over her face some sticking to her face. Kneeling onto the charcoal bathroom tiles.
I quickly rushed over and swiped her hair out of her face.
Then grabbing a nearby black face towel. Damping it under the silver taps and wiping her face, as she sat on her cute bum and her legs crossed. Her white painted toe nails stood out from the dark tiles.
I smiled as I remember how not long ago she'd painted them and insisted they were perfect. She'd then stubbed her toes and took of some paint. She yelled in frustrations.
"fuck!" she'd yelled angrily. I'd then spent half an hour painting it for her getting it perfect, for my love.
Her sobbing brought me back to the present and I held her.