Niall heaves a large sigh and leans his body upward from the pile of white wooden boards and screws. "Alright, what's the next step?" He asks, looking to you on the other side of the room. You sat in a chair, observing your husband who was donned in only his boxers and slaving over your son's crib—which had yet to be constructed.
"It says..." you began reading directions from the pamphlet, and see Niall's large, calloused hands moving in your periphery. Midway through one of the final sentences to the first few steps, you halt upon Niall's screech of pain.
"Ah! Fuck me!"
"I kinda already did," you snort, sparing a glance to your swollen stomach. Staring back up, you immediately attend to Niall's side once catching his face contorted in pain.
"Baby, what's wrong? What is it?" You grab hold of his left hand that he was clutching in desperation, and twist it around for your eyes to spot a wound. "Oh, honey..." you coo, "you just have a splinter. Come with me." You grab hold of his injured hand gently and guide him to the bathroom. Niall's grumbles of aggravation never ceased from your nursery in progress, to the nearest bathroom of your house.
"Alright, sit." You demand, patting a hand against the countertop surrounding the bathroom sink. Niall stares at you for a few moments, lips downturned, and brows furrowed. "You want the splinter out or not?"
With no further objections, Niall seats himself onto the counter. You dig through all of the drawers while Niall hisses continuously through his teeth from the ache in his finger. Finally, you retrieve the pair of tweezers and reach out for your husband's injured hand once more. While inspecting his wound, an unbridled grin of joy climbs onto your lips as you graze your thumb over his fourth finger adorning his wedding band. Eventually, you focus on the main task of pinching the small piece of wood lodged in Niall's skin and remove it with loving caution.
"There," you announce, pressing a kiss against the small hole on his digit, "all better." As you do this, Niall allows his thoughts to wander to the future, where you would lay a kiss on your son's first scraped knee or stubbed toe. While unwrapping the clean bandage to further aid his hand, he embraces your nimble fingers with his. You lock eyes while he offers you a sincere smile, flooding with adoration.
"You're gonna make the most wonderful mother." His eyes shine as he takes in the sight of you, similar to the first time he met. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, skipping more than one beat as he tries to steady it. "I don't know how I'd live without you." Niall jokes, lifting his ringed--and now bandaged--finger.
"Me either," you sniffle, casting your teary eyes up to meet his.
