Broken Misery (H.Styles Fanfic)

Little Bean

A chapter in their lives…

The first ultrasound at twenty weeks went smoothly, but Harry decided that he didn’t want to know the sex of the baby. I, on the other hand, disagreed with him. We already fought enough on how I should take care of myself–he thought I couldn’t even make the bed, I always tried to lift heavy boxes–that not knowing the sex would just bring more fights in the future. The color of the room, for instance. Or baby name ideas. We couldn’t agree on anything.

“Fucking hell, Elena. How many times do I have to tell you not to get up on a chair?”

“Do you want your God damn pancakes or not?” I asked. All morning he’d been nagging me about wanting pancakes, and all I did was to get up on a chair and reach in the upper cupboard for the flour. “Go in the living room and leave me alone.”

He growled. He fucking growled. “Don’t speak to me like that, El. This is my baby you’re putting in danger, for fuck’s sake.”

“Your baby?” I hiss, jumping off the chair once the bag of flour is secured in my hands. “Excuse me. Remind me who the fuck is carrying your baby? Remind me who the hell looks like a whale and eats for two? Or who has to pee every two minutes? Oh, I’m sorry. Did you have to go through morning sickness for three months? Or fatigue and muscle pain and migraines?”

But he simply rolled his eyes at that. “So, maybe you’re carrying it, fine, but who put it in there?”

I couldn’t believe he was saying that. I was all for using the ‘We’re pregnant!’ expression, even though technically, I’m pregnant, he’s just watching me gaining weight, but this was too much. “Oh, you little piece of shit. That’s not my fault if you couldn’t keep it in your pants for one night.”

“Don’t speak to me like that, or don’t speak like that at all. You’ve giving a bad influence on Bean. Jesus fucking Christ.”