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Louis kicks the door of her flat shut, falling back against it as it closes. She drops her bags on the floor and then slides down until she’s beside them, her foot resting on the book bag. Liam keeps telling her that it’s good to read to the baby, something his mum told him the other week, and so Louis bought the first Harry Potter this morning. She doesn’t know if that’s what Liam and his mum meant but she never got round to reading them when she was a kid and so it'll be something for everyone. She’ll get some picture books soon, that cool one about snails and whales and the one with the giant's clothes.
She tips her head back against the wood and groans. Her feet hurt and there’s a twinge in her back right where her spine curves and her head is pounding. This baby, it better be worth it.
“Louis,” Niall calls through from one of the back rooms. “Is that you?” This is her apartment, isn’t it? That’s her Iron Man movie poster on the wall over there and those are her shoes kicked under the table but she can never be too sure. She's barely been here since her and Niall made things semi-official and Niall keeps turning up where she least expects him. He asks if she’s okay and slides his arm around her like she’ll topple if she doesn’t have his support and he freaks out over every grimace she makes. It’s great, he’s great, and she’s so glad he’s doing this with her, but she needs some space every now and then, that’s allowed, right?
Now, though, with the way she feels, lethargic and hungry and sore, she's glad to hear his voice.
“Yeah. I’m back.” She only wanted to be out for half an hour. She needed bread and milk -- all that time at Niall’s she forgets things like use-by dates and that bread goes blue and mouldy if she leaves it for a fortnight and she woke up this morning craving french toast -- but she forgot that she is in a world famous band for a moment and that she can’t walk into a Tesco Express without ten people spotting her so she had ducked into the Waterstones down the street and hid for an hour. She’s not proud of it but she’s tired; she just wants to sleep and eat.
She’s contemplating getting up when she hears footsteps and Niall’s in front of her, smiling down at her with a hand outstretched. "Y'alright?"
"Fine," she sighs, reaching up to grab his hand but pulling him down beside her before he can help her up. He falls with a yelp, landing on Louis' legs making her bury her face in his neck and laugh breathlessly. "I got mobbed going to Tesco."
Niall makes a sympathetic noise, his hand curling at her knee. "We don't have any milk."
"Or bread," Louis agrees. "I wanted to make French toast."
"Is that a craving?" Niall tilts his head to look at her upside down. Louis shrugs. "I can go get milk."
Maybe Louis should say no it's fine there's plenty of other stuff to eat but it's been a shitty day and it's only half twelve and she's pregnant she can exploit that as she sees fit. She cards a hand through Niall's hair, twisting it into a quiff. "Can you," she says, and if she whines a little like this the fatigue is obvious in her voice. She's an awful human being. "You're a saint, Niall Horan."
"I know," Niall sighs, the burden of such a title so heavy, and gets to his feet, stretching out his knee with a groan. "What's in the bag?" He kicks it gently, jumping away when Louis shoves his ankle off the bag.
"Surprise. I'll show you when you get back," Louis promises. "You'll love it."
"You think you know me so well." Niall ducks down to kiss Louis quickly. He touches her hair, his eyes soft. "I'm sorry for what happened. The fans are great, they really are, but sometimes the whole thing is shit."
"It wasn't your fault, Ni," Louis says, so grateful he said about the fans so she doesn't have to. Because it's the truth -- they wouldn't be here without the fans, she can't thank them enough, honestly, but she misses walking down a street or going to the cinema or playing football in the park without groups of screaming girls following her, blocking her in. Her dislike has increased ten fold since her bump has grown. It's not just her anymore getting bundled into a car or being pushed against a wall or risking traffic to get away -- she has this life inside of her now, this baby. “Oh. Can you pick up chocolate too? Any kind.”
“Sure. Go lie on the couch I’ll be right back.” Niall nudges at her thigh with his shoe, gently pushing her out of the way so he can slip out of the door.
Louis gets to her feet slowly, bending back at the waist to ease her back. This is month five almost month six which means another three months of this; she's beginning to think this glow everyone goes on about is fictional.
“Your dad’s gone to get us food, baby,” she coos at her stomach, her hand curving round the bump. She's starting to really show now in the way that it's obvious she's growing a baby inside her, she hasn't just put on a few pounds. The bump rests on the waistband of her jeans; the feel of it reminding Louis that she's always got someone with her, sharing her food and body, even if she can't exactly have a two-way conversation. "He's a good dad, isn't he? Do you like him? I do too."
She regrets buying one of those hard leather couches to fit in with the minimalist effect she was aiming for when she didn't think the flat would be lived in as much as it has been. These cushions are unyielding when she sits down, swinging her legs up, and the armrest under her head is too hard to be comfortable. Reaching back behind her head she grabs a couple of cushions from the chair beside her and fashions herself a sort of den, her feet tucked down the seam in the middle.
"You okay in there?" She lifts her top to peer down at her stomach. "You warm enough? Good, me too."
The door opens just as her eyes are shutting and it's too soon to be Niall, it can't be more than ten minutes since he left, but she can hear his whistling and the squeak of his trainers on the kitchen floor.
"Ni?"
"Louis?" he shouts back, a laugh caught in his throat. "What was it you wanted? Toast?"
Louis untangles herself from her nest and pads through to the kitchen, grabbing a blanket from the back of a chair on the way and wrapping it around her shoulders, hoisting herself up onto the table. "French toast please. You're so good at it, Niall, have I told you that?"
He's already opening the fridge with one hand and flicking on the cooker with the other, still whistling. She wonders when the cooker was used last. That time she made brownies with Zayn probably, a year ago.
"Tell me again."
"You, Niall Horan, are the best chef I've ever had the pleasure of meeting," she simpers, falling back in a swoon when Niall shakes his hips and shuffles around the kitchen with a dishcloth hanging from his hips. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"You always tell me exactly what I want to hear, darlin'." He leans in close then, his grin wide, the smile growing when Louis kisses him. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, the shitty parts of the day disappearing when she presses their chests together.
"How did you get back so quickly? You were barely gone five minutes."
"I borrowed stuff from Harry. He's going up to his mum's tomorrow so he wasn't bothered about me taking all his milk. And here." Louis reaches out to take the bar of Dairy Milk Niall is holding out to her, sitting it on the table beside her. She knocks her ankle against Niall's knee as a thanks. She remembers when everyone thought she and Harry had their own language, the fans making post after post about what each hand movement meant until Louis found herself questioning everything she did around Harry when cameras were near just in case sticking her hand in her pocket meant she wanted to fuck him, but with Niall it was so different when one day she woke up and knew what he was saying from the way his hand ran down her back.
"He said it's to be roasting all week -- a heatwave or something," Niall says, turning back to the cooker where he's got a pan sitting. "Wanna do something?"
"What did you have in mind?"
Niall shrugs, spinning back to Louis and grabbing one of her swinging legs with his hand. "Whatever you want."
"Hmm." London in above average temperatures. Lots of bodies pushing through crowds, shouting from all angles. Fun. "Why don't we make a trip home?"
"Together?" Niall checks and there's something so endearing in the curiosity displayed so clearly on his face. Louis nods. "Yours or mine?"
"I dragged you to mine to break the big news," Louis says, wrapping Niall's t-shirt around her finger. "Ireland can't be that bad in the summer."
"Ireland is the superior country and you're gonna have to admit that one day. This baby is going to be half-Irish, you know."
"It is? But its father is from a posh little town called Holmes Chapel."
"Your hurtful comments are angering Tiny," Niall says, his hand curved on Louis's stomach and there he is, kicking away like they know his own special language. "What's that? Of course I'll buy you a Derby strip, good choice, Titch."
"Stop that," Louis laughs, batting his hand away. "The things we tell them at this time is crucial to their learning according to Liam."
"Liam won't stop reading facts from those bloody books out to me." Niall drops his head onto Louis's shoulder with a low groan. "What's he going to be like with his own?"
"We'll be living in a castle in the Irish countryside by that point," Louis reassures him, stroking a hand down his back. She doesn't even consider what she's saying next, just lets her mouth run with what sounds right. "Up to our knees with mini Niall and Louis's."
Niall stills then lifts his head to meet her eyes. "Yeah? You up for making more with me?"
"Let's see how this one goes eh? You're not the one lugging him around."
He beams at her, toothy and infectious. "I love you."
"Your eggs are burning," Louis points out, her reply in the way she leans up kiss his cheek before pushing him towards the smoking pan, his fucks getting lost in the smoke alarm.
--
"What did you get?" Niall asks. "From the bookshop earlier."
Louis blinks, stretching out along the bed. She's tired but there's an energy thrumming under her skin that makes her want to run laps around the room. Looking at Niall beside her she forgets sometimes that she can't actually do all that. "What? Oh, lemme get it."
When she comes back Niall has moved to lie on his back, his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. She crawls over and straddles his hips, laughing at the surprise that flashes across his face. She holds the book in front of his face, the picture of Dumbledore shielding her from the look n Niall's face.
"Harry Potter? Amazing!" The book is grabbed from her grip and examined eagerly, fingers flipping through the pages. "My mam used to read me and Greg this sometimes. I don't think we ever got to the end."
"I've only ever seen the films," Louis shrugs, placing her hands flat on Niall's chest. She ducks her head, tracing over a scar just under his collarbone. "I saw it on a display when I was hiding. You can say if it's a stupid idea --"
"What? No it's a great idea. Greg said something about reading on the phone the other night, did he phone you too?"
"Liam. He heard it from his mum," Louis adds when it looks like Niall might die from giggling. "Why don't you read those baby books then and tell him the facts first?"
Niall's face is red from laughing, his skin flushed all the way down his chest to Louis's hands. "Nah I couldn't take that away from him."
"You're an idiot," Louis says for lack of anything better to say and it's said so fondly Niall laughs again, his head back and all his teeth showing. She loves him, she knows. She loves him so much she thinks she might burst and out of the whole One Direction experience this is the biggest surprise of all. It's the best, too.
"I'm your idiot," Niall grins, his hands finding her hips and pulling her down to kiss her. When Louis pulls away she looks down to see Niall's hand splayed across her stomach, his long fingers pressing gently, and the baby kicks, saying hello here I am I'm part of this too, and Louis thinks yes.