Pregnant Pause [H.S]

Chapter 16

My

It wasn't often that we experienced heat waves, but that weekend, the heat rolled in. On Sunday after brunch, the four of us – Niall, Finley, Fitz, and I – lounged around the flat, complaining about the heat but too lazy to do anything about it. It was probably much cooler outdoors. The building was old and poorly ventilated, and heat travelled up. For us, it felt like we were boxed in an oven.

Finley sat on a stool at the counter, guitar in her lap as she quietly strummed away. She paused every couple of minutes to scribble something on a notepad – she was writing. With his back to her, Niall sat at the table behind the couch, syncing several of his devices at once with a fan aimed at his face on full blast. He'd been ignoring Finley since the party on Friday, and I was partially to blame for that. I'd apologized to him for going back on my promise and offered to clear things up with her, but he'd declined and brushed it off as if it didn't matter.

But there was a reason he sat with his back to her and a reason he looked elsewhere when she walked into a room. Similarly, there was a reason she'd scampered back to her flat the day before after letting herself in to practice – and that reason made itself clear once Claire strolled out of Niall's room in the early afternoon.

It was a drag to Fitz, who had hoped Friday's party would bring Niall and Finley together. Then again, she had bigger problems occupying her mind, such as how to go about getting her brother away from her flat, back in school, and out of trouble with shifty operators.

The two of us were on the couch in front of the droning telly with bored expressions, too hot to move. With my legs stretched out and propped on the coffee table, I wore nothing but mesh football shorts and continually reached up to push back my hair. Maybe I did need a haircut, as Fitz had suggested – there was too much of it, and it was so bloody hot. I wanted to rip the bandage off my hand, too, as if that was what was overheating me. But I'd been to the doctor to have my gash stitched up, and I'd been instructed to keep it bandaged for three days minimum.

Fitz, also sprawled out with her long legs on the table, wore a tiny pair of shorts that would have caught my attention if I weren't sweltering. She had her tank top rolled up to her rib cage and was lazily fanning herself with a magazine, eyes closed and lips parted.

And the four of us sat there, silent and unmoving, lost in our own miserably humid worlds for God knows how long.

Until Fitz sneezed.

"Yeah," Niall said with an empty chuckle. "I feel ya."

I froze, hand in my hair as I pushed it back. I glanced at Fitz. Her eyes were wide as she slowly turned her head to look at Niall over her shoulder. Niall sensed that he'd aroused her attention.

"What? You sneeze when you're horny, right?"

I was watching her for her reaction as her eyes landed on mine, realization dawning there. There was no way I could control the tug at the corners of my lips, nor the silent laughter rumbling in my chest.

"For serious?" Finley asked, setting her guitar aside with interest.

"Fuckin' weird, by the way," Niall said pointedly, "but I'm not judging."

I couldn't recall a time I'd seen Fitz's darting eyes so panicked and horrified, and I couldn't help that it was hilarious to me.

But my laughter was quickly smothered by a pillow hurled straight at my face.

"Agh!" I cried as my head whipped back.

"Come on! I didn't tell!"

"Fitz, you're so cute," Niall said, standing up and ruffling her hair. (She was quick to shrug him off and shoot daggers his way). "It's like you think these walls are soundproof. The number of times you've sneezed holed up in that bedroom doesn't correlate with the number of times Harry's caught a cold. Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out."