so cool.

he has a big night planned for the two of you, a movie in one of the historic theaters followed by dinner at one of the nicer restaurants in town.

so nice he even had to make a reservation, in fact.

he’s all ready, dressed in one of his button downs and jeans. he, of course, is still sporting his white converse. he checks his wrist watch. ten minutes until the two of you need to leave.

he makes his way towards the bedroom, the old floorboards creaking under his weight.

“hey, sweetheart,” he starts, knocking softly on the solid door before moving to peek his head in. “we need to leave—” the end of the sentence dies on his tongue as he takes in the picture in front of him.

you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand pressed against your stomach as the other is placed on your knee. your head is hanging, but it snaps up when you hear him speak.

“hey, what’s wrong?” his tone morphs into one of concern as he pushes the door open and closes the distance between the two of you. he kneels in front of you, placing his large hand onto your own that’s resting on your knee.

“i just feel bad.” he hears your soft voice say, and watches as you put on a small smile for him. “it’s grown all day, this feeling. slowly taking over and now i physically feel it, a big ball in my stomach, and it hurts, ry. i just don’t want to disappoint you. i know you put a lot of thought into our day and—”

it makes sense to him now, the quiet withdrawal. his heart still almost cracks in two at your words, hearing how you’ve kept the feelings in and have worried yourself that he would be mad at you for something completely out of your control. he interrupts your rambling before you can begin to spiral even more than you already have.

“disappoint me? you’re not disappointing me, sweetheart. you aren’t feeling well, we’re not going. end of discussion.” he says the words with finality as he uses his thumb to rub soothing circles into the soft skin of your hand.

“really? you’re not upset?” your voice is a little louder now, but there’s still a slight sound of disbelief in your tone.

“no way, not even close,” he shakes his head as a smile makes its way to his lips. “this means i just get to stay here with you all night, cuddled up in our cozy clothes and making sure you’re comfortable. how could i be mad at that, silly?”

he watches as your lips curl up into a smile again, only this time it’s a real one. he raises your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles before he’s standing again, moving towards the dresser to pull out a pair of pajamas for you, and a pair for him.

“strip, get these on.” he orders gently, handing your set of pajamas to you before ditching his date night outfit and pulling his own comfy clothes on.

“i’ll be back, get nice and cozy and pick us out something to watch, okay, sweetheart?” he places one more kiss against your forehead before he leaves the room, venturing off to the kitchen to start a pot of tea and cancel your reservation, then he’s off to the bathroom to fetch you that old heating pad that he’s sure is shoved into the closet.

when he returns with his hands full, you’ve done exactly what he told you to do. you’re nice and cozy under the covers, your pajamas are on, and you have one of the original star wars movies queued up and ready to go.

he softens at the sight of you and he’s sure that he’s just fallen in love with you a little more right then and there, something he didn’t even think was possible, but he has been proven wrong. incredibly wrong.

“one chamomile and peppermint blend tea,” he presents the warm mug to you, which you eagerly take with a small thanks. “and one heating pad.” he reaches down to plug it into the outlet before placing it on your stomach, on top of the covers so it won’t burn you, before cranking the heat up.

“anything else, my love?” he asks the question genuinely. he would do anything to make you more comfortable.

“just you, i think.” you tell him sweetly, patting the space beside you to signal for him to join you.

and he does, gladly.

he slides into the bed beside you, scooting closer so that your legs are touching, but not too much to overcrowd you and make you uncomfortable.

“good?” he cranes his neck to look at you. you’re taking a sip of your tea.

“good.” you finally respond, turning your head to meet his gaze. his eyes are glued to yours. they’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, he thinks. “thank you, you know—for this. i really appreciate it. i love you.”

he knows you mean it.

“you don’t have to thank me, i just want you to be comfortable. i love you a lot, sweetheart.”