Charlie Robin Styles [Addition to We're Having Our Baby]

Symptoms

Harry's P.O.V. Charlie 11, Sophia 3

"Em?" Despite being the end of June, it's cold when I wake up. I'm surprised when I see the time, 3:04 am, and Em isn't next to me.

Rubbing my eyes a bit, I sit up and begin searching around with my hands for the shirt I discarded when we first fell asleep. Finally, I find the shirt and start looking for my missing wife.

The bathroom light isn't on, so I exit our bedroom and check the girls' rooms to make sure Em isn't there. She's not, so I head down the stairs and that's when I see a faint light coming from left of the staircase landing.

I quietly creep down the rest of the stairs and find Em sitting at the bar with her back toward me. I don't want to startle her too much, so I whisper a "hello," to get her attention.

"Hey," she spins around after setting what sounds like a spoon or fork on a dish. I can't see because Em's in front of the counter and the room is dim.

"What are you doing up?" I ask as I make my way towards her.

"Couldn't sleep," she sighs, "And I was hungry."

I peer over her shoulder to see the ceramic bowl, almost empty from the chocolate peanut butter ice cream.

"Ice cream?" I speak.

"Shut up," she rolls her eyes and spins back to face the counter and finish her midnight snack.

I pull a stool closer to hers and take a seat. Resting my head in my hand as I lean over the counter, I observe my pregnant wife practically lick the ice cream bowl clean. It's quite amusing, but I'm also just so in awe of her. I am so in love with this woman, I could literally watch her eat ice cream all day just to adore her.

"What?" she turns her head to me with the spoon hanging out of her mouth and a bit of chocolate ice cream around her lips.

"Nothing," I shake my head and bite my lip to contain my laugh. "You just have a little something there," I gesture to her mouth.

"Oh," she blushes and reaches for a napkin.

"You're cute," I smile.

"Thanks," her cheeks continue to get rosy.

"Are you still hungry?" I ask, reaching to grab her dishes to clean for her.

"No, I'm good. You don't have to wash those, I can do it," she responds but I'm already walking towards the sink.

"It's okay, I like taking care of you," I tell her, putting a drop of soap onto the sponge to wash the bowl and spoon.

"Sorry if I woke you," Em says after a few minutes. I finish towel drying the bowl and then place it next to the spoon to air dry overnight. Honestly, I could just put them away now, but I'm lazy.

"Don't be. If you're awake in the middle of the night I want to be too."

***

Three hours later, and Em is puking up the ice cream I caught her eating.

We had finally laid back down and Em had drifted off to sleep when she shot up out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Knowing what was about to come, I groaned, but ran after her to help.

So that's where I am now, sat behind her, pulling her hair back and rubbing her back as she empties her stomach into the toilet.

"I'm sorry Emmy," I whisper, "Remember, it will all be worth it."

She doesn't respond, but she doesn't need to. She just flushes the toilet and spits into the water below her.

Once I think she may be done, I ask if she feels any better, to which she replies, "kind of."

"I shouldn't have eaten that ice cream," she complains.

"It wasn't the ice cream that made you throw up, love. It's better to have some food in your stomach before you vomit anyway."

I guide Em to lean back and rest on me as I hold her and press sweet kisses to her shoulder and neck.

"You don't have to stay up with me," she says, "I know you haven't been sleeping."

"Baby, I told you earlier. If you're up all night—whether it's from discomfort, cravings, puking, anything—I'm up with you. It's already not fair that you have to experience all the bad symptoms of pregnancy while I just enjoy the end result. And why would I ever want my darling to be uncomfortable? I want to help in any way I possibly can."