Arthur felt the mattress move as she sat up, but didn't move. He was scared to look at her, scared that if he moved from his slumped position the fragile atmosphere in the bedroom would shatter. He should have come home earlier. But his heart was pounding in his chest, a shadow of the panicked beat it had picked up when he left earlier. A part of him wished that he was still out, delaying this conversation. She could leave. She could yell at him again, too, and that was nearly as frightening.
"I love you," he said, which was like answering her question. The truth was that he didn't know - was not sure how to handle their conversation from earlier, was not sure how to handle anything. She ought to be the unwell one - she was the one who was pregnant, and didn't want to be, because it was his baby and he was going to be a terrible father. And because of Quidditch. He should have remembered that earlier.
"I love you," he said, which was like answering her question. The truth was that he didn't know - was not sure how to handle their conversation from earlier, was not sure how to handle anything. She ought to be the unwell one - she was the one who was pregnant, and didn't want to be, because it was his baby and he was going to be a terrible father. And because of Quidditch. He should have remembered that earlier.
![[Image: AAgFt3c.png]](https://i.imgur.com/AAgFt3c.png)
set by MJ <3