Both of You [ Harry Styles ]

Both of You (Part I)

You pad your way across the wood floors of your home, shuffling into the kitchen and towards the far right of the room. After a long, long day of meetings at work you're more than happy to finally be home. You had hoped that a long, hot shower would be the cure all for the tension coursing through every muscle in your body, but apparently not. You bite your bottom lip as you reach the refrigerator and pull on the handle, the light from within illuminating your otherwise dark kitchen. Hoping to find a well past midnight snack, you squint into the fridge and bend down as far as you can to peer into it. The contents inside the fridge isn't sparse in the slightest, but as your tired eyes look through it, nothing seems appetizing. While you're debating between the plethora of flavors of fruit smoothies Harry had stocked your fridge with, you let out a sudden gasp. Your hand on the fridge curls tightly around the cold metal, while the other one flies on instinct to the middle of your tummy. Your brows furrow together as you stare down in shock at your ever growing stomach. The feeling was one you haven't felt before through the course of your pregnancy and it makes you pause for a second. You're so exhausted, you aren't sure if it was painful or if the baby had just kicked.

"S'going on down there, little one?" You whisper softly, pushing the fabric of the long sleeved, oversized shirt you're wearing up to snake your hand onto your bare skin. You rub it in soothing circles, and then the three rather annoying beeps of the refrigerator steal your attention. You shut the door of the fridge and settle for grabbing the near empty pack of Chips Ahoy cookies from the counter before making your way up the stairs and to your room.

You set the cookies down on the right side of the bed and flick on the tv in your room before grabbing your charging phone from the nightstand. You have a few work emails that recount today's work, a text from your mum, and one from your boss. You let out a soft huff before setting it down, pressing your hands into the mattress and slowly plopping your way down onto it. After squirming around getting comfortable under the covers, propping your aching back up against the mound of pillows behind you, and letting out a groan of relief you pick your phone up again. You read through the thank you text your boss had sent for coming in to handle things today, smiling to yourself as you type a quick reply and then another to your mum wishing her a goodnight before locking your phone. You open the package of cookies with one hand, and fumble with the remote in the other. After a few minutes of looking through Netflix, you impatiently pick a Nicholas Sparks movie that's in your 'watch it again' section. It's a bad idea, but you're far too tired to talk yourself out of it.

***

You wish you had, an hour later when you have tears rolling down your face and the blanket clutched in your palms tightly. You sniffle pathetically and wipe your tears on the sleeve of your shirt as Noah tells Allie that he wrote her everyday. The pack of cookies next to you is long empty and your eyes are stinging from how early you had awoken combined with how many tears you had shed in the past hour. You shake your head in defeat and grab the remote, switching the tv off and leaving you in the haunting darkness.

You slide deeper under the covers and onto your right side, one hand curling under your head and the other resting on top of your tummy. You blink the last set of tears out of your eyes and nuzzle your face deeper into the crook of your elbow, letting the days events finally take toll on you.

It's silly, you very well know that. You blame it on the lack of control you have over your hormones these days, although part of you knows the reason you're crying is something that will reside in the back of your mind for a long, long time. You want, in fact you crave, a love like the one from the film. All consuming and sweet, a love where no matter how tough the circumstances got, nobody left. You want a love that you thought you had.