Hollow (Harry Styles) #Wattys2016

Chapter 68

Within a few minutes, Harry returned with a tray filled with food along with four water bottles in his hand. It still amazed me how large his damn hands were. "Eat," he commanded, setting the tray on my lap while discarding all but one water bottle onto the bed.

"I'm not hungry," I really wasn't, not now.

He scolded me, his nostrils beginning to flare. He was pissed. "I'm calling a doctor to come check you out, I don't like this anymore," I could hear the concern and anger laced together in his voice.

"I'm fine Harry," I assured him. I'm just carrying your child inside of me and I forgot to feed it. And I am probably not going to keep it.

"Bullshit, you haven't gotten better since we've been in Mexico and you're throwing up and not feeling good, and now you're fainting. I don't know, but where I come from, that is not fine," he practically yelled at me, his face turning slightly red.

I covered my face with my hands, avoiding the spoonful of food he was trying to feed me like a little kid. It smelled gross, who the hell eats soup anyway? I moaned, shaking my head from side to side as he tried to pry my hands away from my face.

"Damn it, Katarina Avery-Joy Sloan Rivera, if you don't take your hands away from your face and open your fucking mouth and eat something, I swear I will stop talking to you for a whole month." His voice boomed, softly. It was full of threat, but it was just above a whisper.

"You would not," I shouted through my hands.

"Try me."

I stayed still for a moment. He was dead serious, but would he really stop talking to me just because I refused to eat? He was pretty stubborn and he usually had a habit of doing something when he put his mind to it. Fuck it. If he didn't want to talk to me, I didn't want to talk to him either.

"Five. Four." Damn it, he was totally serious. I mean, not talking to him would put a damper on our relationship. Not to mention, I would get a little bored without our back and forth banter. And the jokes, as cheesy as they were, they were still cute. "Thr-"

"Alright, geezus," I interrupted him, mid count, still not removing my hands from my face. "But, I don't want that, it smells gross."

I heard the spoon as it clattered against the bowl. "What do you want?"

I removed my hands from my face slowly, taking in his face. He was angry, but he was still composed and trying so hard not to let his anger get the best of him. "I want a hamburger and french fries, and a chocol- no, vanil- no, a strawberry shake," I placed my order, shyly, not knowing what he would say.

He watched me curiously for a few moments before pulling out his phone. "Fine, but I am sending Pete, I'm not moving away from here. And I'm serious about the doctor coming to check you out." His fingers typed out a text quickly, tossing it off to the side once he had finished.

We stayed in silence for a little bit, neither of us even looking at each other.

"I don't want a doctor to come," I finally spoke. "I already went to one," I reminded him.

"Did he tell you what was wrong with you?"

I shook my head, not knowing if my voice would betray me. "I'll find out sometime this week," I lied. When I can find out a convincing lie. We stayed in silence for another long moment.

After about five minutes of nothing being spoken and no eye contact whatsoever, I decided to break the ice. "Can I ask you something, and you have to answer me honestly?"

"Always."

I picked at the hem of my shirt a bit, not knowing exactly how to phrase my question, well, I didn't even know what my question yet. I lifted my head, my eyes meeting his expectant ones. "I was wondering, hypothetically speaking; if I were to ever become pregnant, by accident, would you, well, how would you react?"