Snow kept falling and falling outside the house — it was peaceful, quiet, unbothered by what was going on inside. Richie tried his best to not lose his mind and grab the phone to call an ambulance; but you had assured him all was fine. How could it be fine? You were in labour.
Perhaps you were right — the snow was falling heavy, Richie wasn’t even sure if an ambulance could get there before the baby.
He took a deep breath and relaxed, it would do nothing to panic right now when you needed all the help you could get. His hands moved as he grabbed towels, a sheet, and some blankets before walking back to the bedroom you were resting in.
“I got everything you asked—” he told you, moving on your side, putting the items away to hold your hand. His other hand brushed the hair away from your sticky forehead, and he smiled at you. You looked so determined, like nothing could stop you from your task.
He didn’t ask you how you were feeling; how would someone having contractions and a baby out of their body feel? The answer was probably: horrible. Yet, you never chased the shy and sweet look from your face, as if you want to reassure Richie that everything was alright.
“This baby better love winter after that.“ he joked, booping you on the nose. His hand moved away from your forehead to caress your round belly — his hand was warm against your skin, it made you sigh.
When a contraction showed the tip of its nose, and your body stiffed, Richie got closer. His hand kept moving on your stomach; he let you crush his other hand in yours without a complaint.
“Come on love, you can do it. It’s just a contraction, yeah? You’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you.” he smiled, trying to grab your attention to his voice instead of the pain. Richie was nervous, yes, but he would do everything if it meant making you relaxed and alright.