March
33 Weeks
Apart from Harry's soft snores I woke up to the sound of silence, which doesn't happen very often in London. Quite like New York, it's a city that never sleeps. So no matter the time, I can always here traffic and voices from the pavement. We're so far out in the country here, I can't hear a thing.
I regularly wake up sweating because most mornings I could liken my body temperature to that of the sun. This morning, I think it has more to do with the radiator like creature lying draped over me. I always assumed Harry would be the little spoon, I can imagine he likes the feeling of being cradled and held. I can now a-testify that he makes a pretty decent big spoon.
As usual I wake up with my hands clasped under my cheek and the heat source has his chest pressed tight against my back and his arm wrapped round my middle, his hand holding his baby gently.
I wince slightly as said baby starts his or her morning gymnastics routine. Despite the fact he's still snoring away behind me, I shift Harry's hand lower, so it's covering the area where there's a foot or an arm sporadically fighting to get out.
I lie for a moment, just appreciating the miracle of feeling my baby move, knowing that it's only a matter of weeks until I finally get to meet whoever this little baby is.
I hear Harry's breathing shift as he takes a sharp intake of breath through his nose. His hand shifts slightly so his palm is over where the kick came last and he waits in sleepy silence for the movement to come again.
"Good morning baby" He coo's and for a moment my heart constricts, as I think the endearment's directed at me but it's almost just as sweet that it's directed at our unborn child.
"Morning Daddy" I smile quietly.
Harry lets out another small laugh. "Good morning beautiful" He hugs me tighter before I feel like he realises that this early morning affection is falling in to dangerous territory and removes his arm from around my torso. It gives me a good excuse to go to the toilet and avoid trying to maneover this awakard conversation.
When I come back from the bathroom, I find Harry in the same position as I left him so I get back into bed and under the covers. Seeing as he hasn't made a mad dash to separate our close proximity.
"This is nice" I smile as I turn to face Harry.
"Mmmm?" He asks as his eyes flutter open.
"This peace and quiet" I mumble as my hand twitches to fix a lock of his chestnut hair that's fallen over his face. I give in to temptation and gently push my fingers through his hair, combing the lock in the messy mop on top of his head.
He watches me intently as I pull my hand back to my chest, tucking it under my shoulder to deter the urge to touch him.
'It's a nice bit up here" Harry sighs contently. "If life was different, I'd love to raise a child here"
His eyes glaze over, clearly deep in thought.
"Do you ever wish it was different?" I watch as his gaze flicks to mine, a wave of confusion passes over his face, so I clarify. "Do you ever wish your life had turned out differently? That you weren't famous and you had the luxury to raise your child wherever you wanted"
His gaze never leaves mine but I can see him thinking. "It's too difficult a question to answer" He admits as he lets out a sigh that I feel fan across my face.
"Sometimes, especially in recent months I've found myself wondering what my life would be like if I'd stayed in school and never auditioned for the X-Factor. Yeah I might have more privacy, people wouldn't want to know every detail of my private life, I could chose to raise my child in whatever city or state I wanted..." His voice trails off but his eyes never leave me.
"...but?" I ask, knowing there's one coming.
"... I don't think I'd be happy. For all this life is difficult, I get to do what I love, what fulfils me. I think if I'd got a normal job, and kept singing as a hobby or something I just did at family parties or karaoke, I don't think I'd be a very happy person. My singing career might give me a lot of difficulties in my life but it also gives me so much freedom. Freedom to be who I want to be, to be the kind of performer I want to be, to say what I want to say, I think if I didn't have that I'd be a totally different person. And I kind of like being me" He adds.
"I kind of like who you are too." I almost whisper as my voice comes out a little huskier than I meant.
"Do you wish my life was different?" His intense gaze finally leaves mine and flits to my lips, then to my hands clasped in front of me then somewhere over my shoulder. I can tell he doesn't really want me to answer, so I'm unsure why he asked.
"I suppose there's parts of your life I wish were different. But as a whole, I don't wish you were someone different" He looks confused but not scared so I chose to continue. "I agree with the sentiment that if you weren't doing this job you wouldn't be the same Harry Styles you are today. I also know 100% that I wouldn't have slept with you if you hadn't been famous" a frown crosses his brows as my words sink in.
"Shit ok, that didn't come out right"
"I hope not, cause you just implied you only slept with me because I was famous" His voice trails off. "And that's kind of a dick move"
"That's not why I slept with you. What I mean is..." I pause as I try form a proper sentence before I open my mouth and say something equally as ridiculous. I can feel my palms sweating as Harry continues to frown at me.
"... I wouldn't have went home with you after only knowing you for a couple of hours. Had you not been famous. Well I don't mean famous. Just, someone well known" I tried to clarify. "Someone in the public eye"
"Why not?" He asked, the frown still marring his face.
"Because despite the connection I felt with you, I wouldn't have been comfortable leaving with you having only just met you"
"But because I'm famous..." He said the word like it left a nasty taste in his mouth. "... you were happy to leave with me?"
"Yes" I admit. "But you're misunderstanding what I mean. It's got nothing to with you being 'famous' I didn't leave with you because you were famous, I left with you because I was comfortable with you, something I wouldn't have felt so quickly had you not been... someone in the public eye" I avoided using the word famous as I learned of his detest for the word.
Harry nods slowly. "So you wouldn't have left with me, if I hadn't been on your radar before that night"
I shrugged. "It's irrelevant really. I can't answer that honestly because I don't know. I did know who you were, but I left with you because I felt a connection with you, and I fancied you like fuck..." I grinned, shrugging my shoulder that wasn't pressed into the mattress. "So there's that..."
Harry's frown finally eased out of his brows. "Well there's that" He tried to feign modesty but I could see the flash of pink that appeared over his cheeks.
"So should be we get up and do something with our day?" He asks before I have a chance to make any more crude remarks and embarrass him further.
"I guess so" I rollover as gracefully as my lumping great body can manage, to sit on the edge of the bed. I let my centre of gravity settle for a second before I push myself off the bed. I grab my toiletry bag and my clothes for the day and head for the bathroom to take a shower.
I pause as I hold onto the large oak door and catch Harry's gaze as he watches me leave the room. "I don't regret leaving with you, I don't regret sleeping with you, and I don't, for a second, wish you were anyone other than you"
*
"So how far are we from the house you grew up in?" I ask as we cross the fields surrounding Anne's house. Anne was feeling much better today but not enough that she wanted to join us on our adventure across the countryside. Harry had decided the fresh air would do me and the baby good, and the walking would encourage the baby to get into the right position for labour, despite it being too early for the baby to arrive it couldn't do any harm to be prepared. Or at least that's how Harry was justifying dragging me across field after field.
"Not that far, I could take you if you wanted. Show you around where I grew up?" He took my arm as he helped me climb over a style through a fence.
"As long as you know you're going to have to carry me home" I huffed as I climbed down the other side.
"Fine by me, Sweetheart" He smiled as his hand ran from my arm, down, till he linked his fingers with mine. The contact had heat running through my bones as his hand warmed mine. "Come on" He grinned as he tugged me along behind him.
Despite our earlier conversation I couldn't help but dream wistfully of how different our life's could be if this was our norm, not hiding out in Harry's house so as not to be caught by the paparazzi. Would our relationship progress further if I wasn't scared of the backlash of Harry's over-enthusiastic 'fans' and he wasn't scared of condemning me to his hectic life.
We walked in comfortable silence for what felt like miles before we reached some form of civilisation. Harry's warm palm was encompassing my hand like a glove and helping to keep me warm. We ambled around the village of Holmes Chapel as Harry pointed out his childhood home, the school he went to and the bakery where he had his first weekend job. Harry shared stories of the ladies he worked in the bakery with, stories of his time at school and of his first girlfriend, telling me all about his romantic first kiss down beside a bridge and pointed out where his childhood best friend used to live.
"Do you miss not being able to keep in touch with your friends as easily as you would like?" I asked as we strolled back towards Anne's after picking up our lunch from his old bakery where the women were overjoyed to see Harry again, even if it was only for a few minutes before too many people got wind that Harry was back in town. His fingers were still intertwined with mine as he swung the bag with our lunch in his free hand.
"I guess" He gave a nostalgic sigh. "Hey, you make it sound like I don't have any friends anymore" He feigned offence as he bumped his shoulder with mine.
"Well...." I grinned. "You don't exactly have a lot of friends do you? I mean people that aren't on your payroll or in your band therefor forced to spend time with you."
Harry slowed as he turned to look at me. "I don't need them, I have you."
Despite my gentle ribbing, his intense gaze told me he was no longer joking. I stopped completely to look up into his vivid green eyes.
"Yeah, you do"