⇾ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 | 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐈

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮-𝙊𝙣𝙚 ➪ 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨

ꕥ August 31, 1966 ꕥ
19 weeks

I woke up next to a cold spot on the bed beside me. Paul was no longer sleeping peacefully beside me, and that caused my lips to curl downwards into a frown. I wearily pulled myself up and went to find him, keeping a fleece blanket around my shoulders. I found him in the kitchen, humming to himself as he made some bacon and pancakes. I found it quite surprising. He didn't exactly strike me as the cooking type.

It seemed that I'd slipped into the room unnoticed, so I stayed in the doorway until he happened to look up, listening to his gentle and melodic humming. It was mesmerizing and I could no doubt sit here and listen to it all day. Finally, he happened to look up and noticed me, and I saw his cheeks turn red, but he smiled nonetheless.

"I was hoping you wouldn't wake up, you silly girl," he teased. "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed."

I smiled. "How thoughtful," I mused. "But, I'm awake now."

"Well, it'll be ready very soon," he responded.

"How about I make some tea?" I asked and he nodded with a bright smile.

"Good idea, that is," he agreed and I went to work, but he continued to stare at me, so I stopped again.

"Look at you," he said, coming over and putting his hands to my stomach. "How did I not notice last night?"

"Not notice what? That I'm a bit fatter than I was when you left?"

He knitted his eyebrows together. "No, that our baby is growing!" he told me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, which really it was. I was just messing with him, of course. "I wonder how big it is now."

I slipped away from him and went to start some tea. "Let me put this on and we'll find out," I told him with a wide grin.

"Brilliant," he replied before returning to the food he was cooking.

Once the tea was on, I went to find the development book we had. When I finally got ahold of it, I took it out into the kitchen, searching for week 19. Paul appeared at my shoulder after a moment. "A mango," he said before I even realized we'd made it to the page."It's the size of a mango."

I turned and looked up at him, wrinkling my nose. "And it's making me this fat?" I asked, only half-jokingly.

"Oh, don't look so down. You're just about the cutest pregnant lady I've ever seen." He gave a wide, dopey grin.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, come on, I know you've got to be lying."

He put on a fake look of shock, then settled his arms around my waist. "Would I ever lie to you, my love?"

"I dunno," I replied. "Better check your food," I reminded him before he could respond. "It's gonna burn." I turned back towards my tea, setting the book aside.

"I would never lie to you," he told me as he carefully put his bacon onto a plate, then went to fix the pancakes.

"Good to know," I responded with a laugh.

"That almost ready?" he asked me after a moment, coming up beside me.

I nodded. "Should just need a few more minutes."

"Brilliant. How about you come to prepare a plate while you wait?"

"You don't have to ask me twice," I told him with a smirk.

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

"What's it like in America?" I asked Paul curiously.

"Hmmm," he hummed. He was sitting on the opposite end of the couch and I was curled up under a blanket, eating on the chocolate he'd gotten me. "I didn't really get to see too much of it between fans and shows, but it's pretty nice over there. Accents are quite strange, though."