butterfingers (l.s mpreg)

eighteen, week 18

He had been trying to move on. It felt like years, like the pain of his growing emptiness was going to swallow him whole then spit him back out just to restart all the pain again.

Even after all the time they had spent together it felt like it was worth nothing, like it was just being thrown away.

Which was why it had felt to good to open his eyes to see him, in his green and teary eyed glory, leaning into him as if he could push into him like two mounds of clay.

"Are you crying, you sap?" Louis asked hoarsely, chuckling in a wheeze as he eyed his boyfriend, who sobbed into his shaking chest.

"Louis!" He yelled, heaving and crying and smiling. He ignored the degrading comment (it was the only ones Louis has ever muttered, he was sure of it.)

His eyes glossed and his hands shook as they snuck into the hair of the blue eyed and bruised man in front of him, combing through the grease that had dulled his feathery locks. Both held on for dear life, even though Louis' grip was slightly compromised.

The following few minutes grew less romantic, as Louis spotted his mother.

"Who let her in?" Louis scowled, using his single free hand to rub little circles on Harry's tummy (he could tell the babe was being a extra little hard on him today. Goddamn Louis, always putting others first (but truly only Harry comes first.)) The little cuts on Louis' face were still dried with crusted blood and the gashes along his side were still fucking bandaged, yet he uses his one arm to reach out to Harry.

It was love, Jay was sure of it! So she smiled, collecting her bag and removing a Starbucks napkin from her purse along with a pen. She scribbled her number for Harry, grinning at him and heading towards the door.

Beneath the digits a message was scribbled in cursive, handwriting similar to the notes Louis would leave himself on the fridge (and everywhere else.)

Tell Mr. Butterfingers to be a little more careful next time! Xo.

So, as horrible as it was, Harry began to giggle. His big green eyes crinkled and his teeth clamped over his cherry red lips. His "husband" had just woken up from a 48 hour coma and he was giggling! He felt foolish and giddy, folding the brown napkin neatly and putting it in the pocket of his sweats. Louis' brows furrowed, yet he stayed quiet, admiring the little curves in Harry's lips and the growing bump against his hips.

Still, The following three days were hell. 

Louis' Audi was nearly massacred in the crash and even though the joke he made about Louis riding his new "wheels" home was hilarious, he figured it might be a bit difficult to get across the city of Chicago with his pregnant boyfriend pushing him in a wheelchair.

In addition to the lack of automotive support, Louis' left arm and leg were both badly injured during the accident, leaving him quite handicapped and uncomfortable at all hours of the night. He begged to go home, his pregnant boyfriend was wearing himself out by trying to fit in the tiny twin bed with him (and then on the especially ugly chair in the corner.)  Yet, Dr. P was insistent he won't be leaving until his arm begins to heal. It wasn't broken, per-say, just had shards of glass in it that had to be removed before he left and risked infection while meandering throughout his home.

As if Louis' strife and miserable visit wasn't enough, Harry barely got any sleep and only left Louis' room to visit his doctor, go home to feed Mark, or score himself some clam chowder in the cafeteria. The poor boy absolutely reeked, and missed the way laundry smelled when Louis sang as he folded.

He ached to do laundry again, and as soon as that hit him he was sure rock bottom was near.

And of course poor Mark, who slept all day at home longing for his Lou to come home and feed him the meatballs he likes. He really wished Harry would pat his head like before (the fact it had only been a week barely phased him, it felt like a month.)  All he wanted to do was sleep between the two, one paw on Harry's tummy and another on Louis' favorite pillow.

The family was drained, to say the least, and so when Louis' arm procedure began Harry woke right up. Not even mark slept during that event, his ears even perked up (and not just at the episode of Friends that Harry had left on for him during his last stop by.)

And finally, after Dr. Payne collected the windshield out of Louis' arm, Louis was loaded into his new chair and pushed out by a resident with Harry in tow.

Home felt like home again, (for Mark's sake.) For some odd reason it felt new.

The summer air was extra hot that morning, and the sun smelled like fresh laundry and April rain. It felt so nice to breathe again, clean of everything but bruises.

The elevator was a struggle, and so was the fact Mark couldn't rest in Louis' lap.

Still, Harry did the laundry, and Louis typed away (with one hand.)

Mark even got a bit of a head rub.

Finem

HI HI HI HI HI ITS 2:30 AM AND I AHVE SCHOOL TMRW MORNING I CANNOT WXPRESS TO YOU HOW TERRUBKE I FEEL ABOUT THE FACT I CANT SEEM TO UPSATE LIKE THE WATTPAD SLUT I USED TO BE AND ALSO ABOUT THE FACT THAT THIS CHAPTER IS SHIT BUT IM REALLT EAGER TO GET TO THE GOOD SHIT ASAP

BUT ANYWAY I LOVE YOU AND HE REASON THIS IS SO SHORT IS BC THIS IS THE END OF HE FIRST PART OF BUTTERFINGERS AND THERES GONNA BE ABOUT A MONTH TIME JUMP TO THW NEXT PART BC NGL Louis HEALINF MIGHT GET A LITTLE DRAGGY AND BORINF BUT

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH THIS STORY ILL BE BACK AS SOON AS I CAN

!!!!