Chapter Eight

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The whole world seems to slow down for Harry after that sentence leaves the twenty two year olds lips. His mind slows as he gasps, glancing at his Sub writhing in pain on the bed, his bottom half caked in blood and tears streaming down his face.

He's having a miscarriage

"H-how? He isn't pregnant!" Zayn stutters out, his grip loosening on his Submissive husband.

"He probably didn't know! We need to get to the hospital," Niall pleads, his lips pouting and tears dribbling down his flushed cheeks.

"Do we drive him, or call an ambulance?" Harry yells, kneeling down again.

Niall shudders, his face paling significantly. "See if you can pick him up."

Harry nods frantically, standing and slipping one arm under Louis' shoulders. "I'm gonna pick you up now, sweetheart. It might be uncomfortable, I'm so sorry," he apologizes profusely, picking the kittens upper half up, bending him at the waist.

Louis screeches out in pain, whimpering and pushing Harry away feebly. "No! Nonono!" He murmurs. "Hurts. Hurts, 'addy, hurts."

"I need to lift you up, sweetheart, unless...Zayn," he whips around, peeking the Doms interest. "Call 999, we can't move him without hurting him."

Harry settles down next to his love, brushing his sweaty hair from his pale forehead. "Sweetheart...baby boy...just focus on me. Focus on me. Focus on my lips. Don't think about or look anywhere else, okay? Can you do that for me? Can you do that for Daddy?" He asks, smiling sweetly at his Sub.

Louis shakes his head frantically, panting. "No! Hurts. Hurts too much," he whimpers.

"Please. I'm gonna kiss you and you're gonna focus on me. Just me, okay?"

Louis shakes his head frantically, whimpering and keening as he wraps his arms around his stomach, nursing his sore stomach. Waves of pain wash over him, nauseating him. "I-im gon-nna be sick..."

Harry's eyes widen and he turns to see Niall rushing out to get a bin. He groans, grabbing the rubbish bin under their night stand, ignoring the used condoms inside. He hands it to kitten, who just positions it against the side of the bed so he can turn his head to the side and throw up without straining himself too much. He dry heaves for a few moments with Harry rubbing his back before letting out a wet gag and throws up his dinner from the night before.

Harry sighs, brushing his hair back and cooing sweet somethings into his loves ear helplessly as Louis sobs, crying in pain as he spews sick into the rubbish bin.

"Oh, my sweetheart..." Harry coos, kissing Louis' hair repeatedly. Louis suddenly screams, dropping the bin and squeezing his eyes shut. Harry grabs the bin before it can spill and he is stuck to watching on the sidelines as pain ripples through his small husband.

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"No! Let me be with him! I need to be know he's okay and he gets stressed with me! He doesn't like people! I -"

"Mr. Styles, we need you to calm down," the dry, stuffy lady behind the desk rasps out, her voice of sandpaper sending shivers up the Dominants spine. Her long, lilac coloured nails tap the old keyboard keys obnoxiously and the aroma of smoke wafts off of her like the plague.

"You want me to fucking calm down? I'll tell you what'll calm me down. - "

"A sedative?" the receptionist suggests. Harry shoots her daggers. She sighs. "Mr. Styles, -"

"Are you threatening me, woman? I will not stand here and hear my husband scream behind those closed doors -" Harry yells, pointing to the wide, heavy metal doors separating Louis from the outside world.

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