Harry Styles Imagines

Still birth

TW* depression
You lay flat on your back, staring blankly at the ceiling above the bed. You had no desire to get up, check your phone or to even eat. You felt like you had been swallowed by the darkest cloud known to man.
"Hey baby, I made food, you want me to bring you some? or maybe you'll come out and eat with me?" Harry hesitantly hopes.
"I'm not hungry" you say emotionless.
"Y/n... you gotta eat. I know it hurts but you need to continue living" he comes to sit next to your laying body on the bed.
"What if I don't want to?" You ask, not removing your eyes from the ceiling. You hear Harry take in a deep breath. He crawls next you, joining your examination of the ceiling.
"It's not your fault. There's nothing you could've done to help her." Harry reasons.
"It was my job to protect her at all costs, not let any harm come her way. I failed." Your voice shaky, turning away from him.

You vividly remember the excruciating pain of giving birth. Wanting nothing more than to hold your little baby girl that you've been so eager to meet.
"Can I see her?" You plead.
"Uh just one moment" a doctor barely gives you the time of day before turning around, whispering to the group of other doctors all around your daughter.
"What's wrong. Harry, what's going on?" You cry, sensing something isn't right.
"I-I don't know" he looks around the room "just relax, alright" he rubs your arm up and down.
"I'm so sorry, your daughter was still born" a female doctor tells you apologetically. It feels like your heart stopped beating, your stomach dropped. A breath gets caught in your throat.
"She's-"
"There's nothing you could've done. I want you to know this was absolutely not your fault." She ensures you. The room begins to spin, every other person disappearing. Harry breaking you free from your abnormal thoughts with a warm hand on you shoulder.
"When she's up for it, I suggest counseling. There are tons of brochures in the waiting room of really great counselors. It will be hard, post partum depression hits as well as the grief of losing a child." You overhear the nurse talking to Harry just a few feet from where you lay.

"The doctors said it was nothing done by the mother. You did everything right baby. It just wasn't meant to be right now." He rubs your back, bringing your attention back to the present. "In a few years, we'll have kids. We will tell them all about their older sister. And we'll have a big yard and a dog. And we'll teach them how to ride bikes, and how to swim." He tries to cheer you up.
"Can you teach them how to sing. and play the guitar and piano." You start to look past the previous month. He nods, satisfied.
"Want to go for a drive?" Harry suggests "you can pick the music"
"Ok" you sigh, sitting up. You take the hand that Harry offers to help you out of the bed. He pulls you into his chest, you relax into his grasp, feeling safe and more comfortable than you have in the past nine months.
"I'm proud of you" he whispers into your ear, causing shivers up your spine.