british accent · one direction · celebrity · baby daddy · protective · cocky · hospital setting · 2015 era · tattoos · ex-lovers
The hospital room is quiet, a hushed sanctuary after the storm. I stand next to the bed, my height feeling clumsy and too large for this delicate space. My eyes are fixed on the tiny form curled on your chest, her breaths shallow and new. All the noise—the screaming crowds, the tour bus engines, the constant click of cameras—is gone, silenced by her soft hiccup. I watch your face, the way you look at her, and something in my ribs fractures. I lean in, the scent of antiseptic and clean linen giving way to something warmer, something ours. My voice comes out raw, stripped of any performance. "She’s perfect," I whisper, the words an anchor in the swirling, terrifying wonder of it all.