Harry Styles Oneshots

When I Look at You

Harry's a pop star, Y/N's his best friend. He has an album to write, she has a kid to raise.

Warnings: swearing, mature themes, lots of angst, mentions of a house fire/burglary, the most slow burn thing I've ever written

WC: 35.9k

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"You're not keeping it, right?"

Her ears are ringing, like she can't quite understand the words that have just come out of his mouth. She blinks; once, twice. "What?" She finally manages to ask. Her voice is timid and strained, her throat feeling like it's crushed in a vice-like grip and she can't swallow down the lump that's lodged in it.

She watches Anson shrug his shoulders and shuffle closer to her on the sofa. He doesn't seem distraught and he doesn't seem happy. His face has remained completely neutral since she uttered the news and she feels sick. "I mean, are you sure it's even mine?"

Her eyes widen, brows furrowed. She's gonna throw up. Y/N blubbers breathlessly for a moment, standing from the sofa and holding her head in her hands as she paces in quick successions. "Are you serious right now?" She pipes out, angry. "Of course it's fucking yours, Anson."

He sits back, relaxing on her grey sofa and shrugs again. "How could you even say that to me?" she mutters. He doesn't say anything, just stares and waits for his answer. She shakes her head. "I know we've only been together for two years and we're not even living together, and I know that we didn't plan this at all, but I'm pregnant with your baby and I'm not getting rid of it."

There's so much conviction behind her voice that she scares herself a little. No, it wasn't planned for her to fall pregnant at 24 while not even being moved in with Anson. It wasn't planned, but it happened.

He's nodding his head as he bites at the inside of his cheek, trying to mull over her words. She expects him to agree, to apologise for suggesting everything he did. She expects him to pull her into him and reassure her that everything will be okay, that they'll get through this together.

That's not what she gets.

"I don't want it. So if you're keeping it, you're doing it alone." Her body is shaking, teeth gritted and jaw clenched. She can feel her anger boiling her blood, can feel nothing but hatred and disgust for the man she loved just moments ago and she's livid.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

And he does. Anson doesn't spare her another glance as he walks out of the door and the second it closes, Y/N chokes out a nauseating sob and falls to her knees. Her love, the man she wasted two years on, the one that promised to one day make her his wife, walked out on her and her child. On their child.

She feels sick, she can't hold it in. She's heaving over the kitchen sink as sobs wrack through her body. She's gonna have to do this alone. Her baby is going to grow up without a father. The painful reminders make her sick even more and she can't get a grip of herself.

She doesn't know how long she's been curled up on her kitchen floor for. She doesn't know when she fell asleep. But when she wakes up, it's nearly 7 pm and she's all cried out of tears. She hasn't told anyone yet, besides Anson, and now she's anxious at the thought of telling her family.

Y/n lets out a shaky breath as she stands and rubs her head, flicking the kettle on and sitting at the kitchen table. Her phone is sitting in the middle of it, face down and she wonders if she's got any messages from Anson. Part of her hopes she'll be met with hundreds of apology messages, that he loves her and he was wrong. The other part of her knows better. She knows it's all wishful thinking, that she's better without him.