Battling the Loss You Live For.

Frank’s Point of View
“But I feel like shit!” Sazzy cried, pouting. I rolled my eyes.
“Come on, babe. You said you wanted to go,” I said, grabbing a hold of her hand. She twisted her mouth, her eyes darkening. She looked almost put out.
“I know… but-”
“You can stay if you want. But you’ll ring me up later on, and you’ll regret not going, because you really wanted to, and you probably still do,” I said smartly, a smile creeping onto my face. She groaned.
“Smart arse.”
“You English. Now come on, get ready,” I said, standing up off the bed. She sighed, standing up too, but her eyes widened, and she paled. She ran, jumping over mounds of clothes and wrenching the door open, running towards the bathroom.
“Man,” I muttered, following after her. I hated morning sickness. It always made her somewhat… chaotic. I walked into the bathroom, seeing her kneeled over the toilet bowl. She hadn’t hurled yet. I touched her long black hair, gathering it in my hands and pulling it into a ponytail for her, using the thin black hair-tie around my wrist. I basically had to have one around my wrist all the time now, because we’d somewhat developed a routine.
A noise erupted from her throat, and I pushed her fringe out of her eyes for her, as vomit poured down into the toilet bowl. I rubbed her back for her, just waiting for it to subside. It got a little worse.
“Are you alright, sugar?” I asked, as she wiped her tears, using some tissue to wipe at her mouth. She nodded shakily, standing up and flushing the loo. I stood up too, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as she got her toothbrush out, starting to brush her teeth.

It’s been just over two months, now. Sazzy looked no different size-wise, but she had some tiny cravings, like the cake and sometimes cherry coke. She didn’t like cherry coke usually… and the morning sickness. It never just happened in the morning – it happened about three times during the day. I think once, she only had it in the morning. It made her feel weak and shaky all the time, which got me really worried. Would the baby be okay? Mom said she never really suffered with morning sickness with me – only for the first week. So I got her registered at my doctors, and she had an appointment with her tomorrow.

“Frank? Hello, Frank!” Sazzy called, waving her hand in front of my face. I blinked, moving her hand away.
“…Yeah?” I said, confused.
“You just blanked out,” she said, a worried expression on her face. “Are you alright? You don’t really look that good.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, smiling at her reassuringly. Her forehead was still creased in slight worry, but she nodded, shrugging it off.
“Do you feel alright? I don’t think we should go to Shaun’s place, you-”
“Hey, Frank. You go. It’s your band practise,” she said, putting away her toothbrush.
“But your not-”
“I’m fine. I’ll meet them all some other time, but you have to go, if you want that gig-”
“But you’re ill, and I can’t go-”
“Frank, shut the hell up, I can take care of myself. You should go, you can’t stay cooped up in here with me all-”
“But there’ll be no one to look after you, and I-”
“Mum?”
“Yeah… but… alright,” I said, sighing in defeat, as she smiled triumphantly.
“Good. Now come on, your late,” she said, pulling me up by the hand, and we ambled down the stairs, Sazzy picking up my keys from the table on the side. She handed them to me at the door, turning to me and placing her arms around me in a hug.
“Have fun,” she mumbled, pulling away. I leant down, placing my lips against hers softly, my eyes fluttering closed. She pulled away gently, her lips tugged up in a smile, and I opened the door, stepping out into the summer afternoon, to band practise.