Affluent [H.S]

Thirty Eight

27 September 2020
Emersyn Styles

Delicate bristles coat my mask of powder over my clear skin, disguising who I truly am until tonight when I scrub the makeup from my face and regain my true identity.

Everything about today is wrong, backwards and inside out. The amount of signs I've gotten that this day will be a shit show is unavoidable at this point. For one I was up all night with morning sickness, whoever decided the name got it so wrong... it's all day sickness.

Harry was extremely gentle, doting on me like I was made of glass, feathering his fingers down my spine and combing through my hair. It was nice to have him comforting me, as perfect as Niall was. It's different when it's the father of my child at my side.

When I stopped moping on the bathroom tiles he insisted on carrying me back to bed where he rolled my sweater up and whispered to our unborn child while the sun rose outside.

The room was painted such intense colours during such a soft moment, he looked so beautiful glowing in the sunlight that heated our skin, so beautiful speaking to our baby while they grew inside my stomach.

We barely even spoke, I just ran my fingers through his curls - scratching sweetly at his scalp while he loved part of him he's passing onto a new life. Our intimate moments get locked away to memory, they're so rare between us yet what we crave the most - why do we always want what we can't have?

The stars torture us, they tormented Romeo and Juliet until they couldn't deal with being apart and chose an eternity of loving each other amongst the stars that hated them once before.

If I keep taking life day by day it's not as scary, ignoring the bigger picture keeps me calm so I just need to get through today but focus on tomorrow when I'll be sitting on my dad's private jet on my way to The Netherlands.

"Angel... angel... angel."

Turning my head over to where Harry still lays peacefully in bed I see how he's trying to find my body in the now cold sheets where my warmth once laid. As much as I didn't want to leave him sleeping alone, I needed to get ready for my wedding and stop people from entering the space.

He's muttering in his sleepy state, not fully conscious yet he still knows what he calls me. It makes me smile, placing my brush down before standing from the stool and heading over to where he lays.

I shuffled onto the bed, dressed still in one of his sweaters and a pair of baggy shorts which he liked because he could slide his hand between my stomach and the waistband to feel where I was growing our child.

Smoothing my hand across his forehead, I push some rebellious curls off of his skin - the contact makes him whine sleepily with the smallest smile gracing his lips. "Angel's here, keep sleeping baby." I whisper while running my fingers through his hair in the hopes he can get some more sleep in him.