What Makes You Beautiful? | h.s.

bonus: announcements

I had snuck the bottles of ginger ale in without Harry noticing, and we paid for the almost £300 grocery tab. We brought it all back to the new house and put it all away, where we stood proud after looking at how good the house had come.

I set the soda on the counter before heading into the bedroom to change.

Harry soon walked into our room clad in only boxers, before he wrapped his arms around me and placed a kiss to my neck.

"Hi."

"Hi princess."

"You know, if the baby's a girl, she'll be your princess."

"That just means you'll be my queen," he hums, pulling the fabric of my robe down to expose my shoulders. My eyebrows rise as he begins to trail small kisses along the newly bared skin.

"Does that mean you're my king?" I question, watching him in the mirror in front. He simply nods before pulling the robe off of me.

I roll my eyes and step into the closet. He follows closely behind, watching as I change into a tight red dress. My eyes flutter up to see him with his bottom lip in between his thumb and finger, and it takes all I have not to burst out in laughter.

His eyes rake up and downy body, before snapping up to my eyes. "Wow."

"Wow what? Is that a good wow?"

"That's a really good wow. Holy shit," he curses, dragging his fingers through his hair and pushing it out of his face. "You look-"

"Fat? I feel it in this dress," I squirm, trying to pull the bottom down a bit more. "It's a lot tighter than it used to be."

"No. Not at all. You're- you look good. Great."

"You don't think I look fat?"

"Far from it. You look wonderful," he breathes, taking a step closer to me. "But if you're not comfortable, don't wear it."

"I just know that I'm not going to be able to wear it for another year if I don't," a sigh escapes, and I place my hands on my hips. "I didn't think I was showing, but this dress just proves it."

"Baby, you're breathtaking. I can't even find the proper words to use to describe how good you look, because I know everything is going to be an understatement."

"Or exaggeration," I pout.

"Understatement of the century," he argues, placing his open palm on my stomach. "Even if you don't think you look good, just believe me. I've never lied to you, and I won't start now. If people have a problem with you being pregnant and showing, then they're the ones with the actual problem. Pregnancy is probably one of the most beautiful things on a woman."

"Harry..."

"Honestly. The stunning side of pregnancy is hitting you, because every time I see you, I can't keep my hands off of you. It's like you're a magnet, and I'm being sucked into you."

"I just think it's too tight," I huff, my bottom lip coming out in a pout.

"Then change. I would rather you feel comfortable, than regret wearing something all night," Harry smiles a dimpled smile, tracing his fingers along my stomach. "I'd love to see you keep it on, because I want everyone to see how beautiful you are."

I let out a shaky breath as I snake my arms around his waist, squeezing them together tightly. "Thank you," I murmur, looking up at him. "I needed to hear something like that just now."

"It's only the truth," he presses his lips to my forehead before detaching from my limbs. "Now, your sisters probably going to show up soon, so take your gorgeous self out of here and let me get changed. If you stay any long I may just have to rip that dress off of you."