🌷Ana🌷

Freddie and I load the last of our suitcases onto the conveyer belt, sweating from the sheer weight each one holds. As it happens, packing light when you're travelling with a newborn is fucking impossible. I've barely squeezed mine and Freddie's items into one bag with Charlotte's things taking up an entire suitcase. She's currently strapped to Freddie, head butting him in the chest. She's happily sucking on her dummy and I have about ten spares in my bag, just in case. Freddie and I were up most of last night Googling ways to make flying with babies easier. In the end, the only piece of advice we took was to take spares of everything.

"Ready?" I ask, taking hold of his hand.

Immediately, I notice he's shaking.

"Whats wrong?"

He stares ahead, looking towards the large screens displaying various flight times.

"Freddie?"

"I—Umm..."

Charlotte gargles and he doesn't notice, which is unusual for him.

"Babe?"

Nic flies into him from behind, inundated with excitement.

"Paris, baby!"

Freddie attempts a smile, though it comes across borderline painful. Luckily, she doesn't notice and asks for us to wait for her while she checks her bag in. James and Sloan are already in Paris, having left on a earlier flight. Nan and Helen are waiting for us in the airport lounge, no doubt knocking back the complimentary champagne.

"How long is our flight?" asks Freddie, losing all the colour from his cheeks.

"About an hour. Why?"

I swear he's about to vomit.

"I'm scared," he whispers, playing with Charlotte's ears. "I've never flown before."

"That's okay," I soothe. "Anything for the first time can seem scary. But you're safe."

"Will it shake?" he asks.

I nod. "A little during take off. But after that, it's smooth all the way."

He nods, resembling a frightened puppy. I squeeze his fingers and press my body closer to his, letting him know I'm here for him. I don't want to go on and on about it because I know from experience the best way to overcome fear is to work through it in your own time. Freddie is nervous and he just needs to process things at his own speed.

"How much do you wanna bet Nan is already drunk?" I ask, distracting him.

He laughs, but it isn't genuine.

"Done!" announces Nic, unaware of Freddie's dilemma. "My baby's first time on an aeroplane! How exciting!"

Freddie couldn't look any more appalled.

"Where's Catherine and Helen?"

"Bar."

Nic laughs, loving that for them.

"Shall we get going?" she asks, practically wiggling from excitement.

I nod and take hold of Freddie's hand, slowly showing him the way. He's a bundle of nerves the entire time we wait for our flight, coming in and out of conversation. At one point, he goes to the bathroom and I'm pretty sure while he's in there, he's looking for a way to escape.

"Is Freddie okay?" whispers Nan, gesturing towards the man in question.

He's sat a few feet away, bouncing his leg nonstop.

"Nervous flyer," I inform.

She nods, understanding the complexity of the situation. After a few more minutes, I sit next to him and gently place my hand on his restless leg.

"Hey handsome."

"Hi," he replies, resting his head on my shoulder.

"How you feeling?"

"Not good."

Nic has taken Charlotte to look around all the shops, leaving Freddie with nothing to do but fester in his thoughts. I'm moments away from calming his nerves when they announce our flight is boarding.

"Oh, fuck," he says. "I really don't want to do this."

"I know, baby, but you'll be okay. I'm there. Charlotte's there."

He nods.

"Flying is supposed to be the safest way to travel."

"Is it?" he asks, hanging onto that one piece of information.

"Yeah, I'm sure it is," I say, pulling out my phone to confirm my thoughts with good old Google..

I show him the statistics on my screen.

"This next hour will zoom by and then we'll be in Paris. Me, you and Charlotte."

He smiles and this time, there's a bit more to it.

"I can't wait to see the Eiffel Tower."

I slide my hand in his and smile. "Me too."

Nic arrives with Charlotte, handing her over to Freddie who, for the duration of the flight, must sit with her on his lap.

"Ready?" asks Nan, using her gentle voice for the sake of Freddie and his nerves.

By now, the others have all cottoned on to what's happening and are trying their best to remain calm.

"Sure!"

I position Freddie by the window, figuring he can distract himself with the view from outside. Thankfully, we don't sit for long on the runway and before we know it, it's time for take-off.

"It'll get noisy soon," I tell him. "Just while the engines work to get us up. It soon quietens down."

"Okay."

Charlotte blabbers and attempts to grab the safety booklet from the seat in front.

"You can close your eyes and hold my hand if you want?"

"I should be okay," he replies. "I don't want Charlotte to think I'm scared."

I nod, respecting that. Yet, the second we gain speed and the engines roar to life, Freddie clings onto my hand and slams his eyes shut. "Fuck, Ana, fuck!"

I wrap my entire hand around his arm and squeeze, letting him know I'm there. "You're okay. I'm right here."

Charlotte faces me, wondering what on earth that loud noise is and—in a moment—begins to cry. Hearing this, Freddie immediately abandons his own fears to comfort his distressed little girl, hugging her to his chest.

"You're okay, princess. Mummy and Daddy are here."

I lightly tickle her chin and kiss her on the cheek. Thankfully, within seconds, she's her usual self and with the engine noise lessening, she eventually calms down, alongside Freddie.

"Are we all okay?" I ask.

Freddie laughs a little. "Yeah, you're right. It's not so bad once all the noise stops."

***

Paris is a fucking dream. Freddie and I dump our bags and head out immediately after, desperate to wander the streets of France's capital. We stop for coffee and pastries, taking in everything as we go. We take turns pushing Charlotte in her pram and before long, the princess is happily sleeping.

"Do you ever wanna get married?" he asks, sipping his coffee.

The streets are busy, but not in a way that makes this stressful.

"I think so. You?"

He shrugs. "Maybe."

I smile, rather amused by our less than enthusiastic approach to marriage.

"I think if the right man comes along and sweeps me off my feet..."

"What, like this?"

He abandons his coffee and tackles me from behind, lifting me into his arms right in the middle of a tourist-packed street.

"FREDDIE!"

I can't stop giggling.

"I'll ask you to marry me one day, Anastasia Mason."

"I'm sure I'll say yes to you one day, Freddie Hudson," I reply.

I'm still in his arms, him gazing down at me like I'm rare treasure.

"This is on my bucket list, by the way" I share.

"What is?"

I go through the list that has undoubtedly been living in my mind for as long as I can remember. "Visit Paris in summer, get a tattoo and..." I pause, allowing the moment to settle. "Be okay again."

He smiles and carefully puts me down.

"That's a great list."

"I've managed two out of the three," I explain.

At this, his smile widens.

"Let's do three right now! Together!"

"What? No, we can't!"

"Why not?"

"Getting a tattoo is a big decision! I don't even know what I'd get."

Freddie, smiles, letting me know he was only teasing me. Still, as fate would have it, we turn a corner and come face-to-face with a stall offering temporary tattoos. In a second, Freddie and I share a smirk and I know without a doubt we're doing this.

"Let's choose each other's!" I suggest, growing far too giddy for my own good.

I take my task seriously and flip though the booklet, waiting for the perfect one to jump out at me. Freddie doesn't look, having already thought up a—and I quote—brilliant idea. We decide to get them where no one will see them, Freddie going for his bicep and me, my hip. Eventually, I close the book unsatisfied with all of them.

"Got one?"

"Yes, but it's not from the book," I inform. "It's my own design."

He quirks a brow. "Should I be worried?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "No, not at all."

Thankfully, Charlotte remains asleep for the time it takes Freddie and I to get our fake tattoos. They're drawn on by hand, and we make a deal to look at what the other has chosen when we're finished. We pay the artist and walk a little further, still having not looked at our tattoos. I'm nervous the more we walk, and end up completely bypassing the gorgeous view to our right.

"Umm—babe?"

Freddie is now pushing the pram and I look to where he's gesturing, shocked to see the Eiffel Tower right there.

"Oh, shit!"

He laughs.

"I almost walked right passed it."

"Shall we get a family selfie?"

"Hell, yeah!"

Charlotte is still snoring away, but that doesn't stop Freddie and I from snapping a few pictures. A kind lady offers to take one for us and that ends up being my favourite.

"I wanna see my tattoo now," he admits, sounding excited.

"Okay." My voice shakes a little but I try not to let it show.

"Together? After three?"

I nod. "One."

"Two."

"Three!"

I deliberately don't look at mine yet, needing to see Freddie's reaction to my choice before even thinking about my own. He stares at it for what feels like years and as much as I want him to have this moment, I'm left hanging by the edge here.

"Freddie?"

He ignores me, running the pad of his finger over the words I, love and you. In the moment, it felt like a brilliant way to express my feelings. What's more romantic than telling your boyfriend you love him for the first time by getting tattoos in front of the Eiffel Tower?

"You don't have to say it back," I insist.

I hope he doesn't feel pressured into doing some grand gesture. Freddie has never been shy of expressing his thoughts, but I'd hate for him to feel rushed into anything.

"I just wanted you to know, and I thought it was romantic."

"It is romantic," he replies, still slowly running his fingers over the cursive writing. "I wish it was permanent."

I smile, loving that more than anything.

"You haven't looked at yours," he accuses.

"I was too busy watching you," I admit, stepping into his personal space and slowly tracing the outline of each word. "Too busy loving you."

His eyes find mine in a moment saturated with vulnerability and appreciation.

"Look at yours," he whispers, bringing his forehead down to rest against mine.

I lift the material of my top up, my jeans resting just underneath where my tattoo is positioned. To my complete and utter astonishment, I'm staring down at the exact same tattoo. I run my finger along the delicate words, needing this moment cemented into my brain forever.

"Do you really?"

He nods. "With my whole heart."

I throw my arms around his neck and squeal, inundated with happiness. He spins me around and laughs, slyly ticking my waist as he goes.

"I can't believe we got matching tattoos!"

"I can't believe you love me!" I say.

Once again, he brings his forehead down to meet mine and slowly kisses the tip of my nose.

"Of course I love you, Anastasia. I've loved you from the moment I saw you."

"Last year?"

He nods.

"This is in total breech of our agreement, ya know?"

"Fuck the agreement," he says, making me laugh.

I reach up on my tip toes and land the biggest kiss on his cheek. "Yeah, fuck the agreement."

Charlotte—very abruptly—wakes up, demanding our attention. She kicks her legs, wondering why she's in a pram and not strapped to her dad's chest like usual.

"Hey, baby girl... guess what?" He lifts her out and cradles her to him. "Mummy loves me!"

I laugh, playfully poking him in the ribs.

"I've got it in writing and everything!"

I join him in cuddling Charlotte, the three of us embracing in front of the Eiffel Tower.

"You're so lame."

"Whatever. You love me really."

"Yeah," I agree, worming my way into his hold. "I've loved you from the moment we met."

A year ago.

✨✨✨✨

Hi, lovely!💕

JDKNVUBVFSB this is the CUTEST "I love you scene" I've ever written!

Everything is going SO WELL for these two right now.

I wonder when the author is going to ruin it all? 😈

P.S Don't forget to check this chapter out in Freddie's POV!

Speak soon,

Rebecca xo