“Be careful,” Howl says, taking the knife out of your hand. “I’ll cut up your food for you. Here.”

He’s been treating you like you’re made of porcelain since he found out you were pregnant. Howl slides your plate back to you, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Do you want more water?” he asks. “Is it too hot in here? Are you tired?”

He feels useless. You’re carrying the baby and he’s just… existing. It’s why he’s so adamant with helping you.