Fratboy Harry and Other Stories

You've Gone To The Bathroom Fifty Times Today

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your dress and smoothing out the fabric with your hands.

"You look beautiful," you heard from behind you.

You grinned in the mirror as Harry came up and wrapped his arms around your waist. You lightly brushed the backs of his hands with your fingertips as you leaned into his body. Feeling him hum against your neck, you suddenly felt a twitch. You threaded your fingers through his, pulling his hands away from you.

"Be right back," you said.

"Again?" he frowned, dropping his arms.

"Sorry," you called as you hurried to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

As flushed the toilet, you replayed the scenario in your head. The moment you would tell him. How you would tell him. You'd had it sorted out for the past week. You thought you had it down, that everything would work out smoothly, without a hitch.

Only today you'd started feeling incredibly nervous. You were worried that he'd started to catch on. You'd made so many trips to the bathroom, surely he had to think something was up.

You heard a knock on the door then, making you jump.

"Babe!" Harry called from the other side. "We're gonna be late if we don't leave now."

"Okay!" you answered. "I'm coming."

After you washed your hands and touched up your lipstick, you felt it again. Then you shook your head and opened the door. Harry cocked a brow as he looked at you in question.

"You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," you nodded, grabbing your clutch from the bed that matched your shoes. "What time are we supposed to be there?"

"Twenty minutes," he replied.

You sighed, knowing you would probably be at least ten minutes late as it was. All because of you.

"Let's go," you muttered, following him out of the bedroom.

The dinner party was already in full swing when you arrived, just like you'd anticipated. You cursed under your breath as Harry lead you through the doors to the dining room, his hand on the small of your back.

"It's okay," he assured you as he whispered in your ear.

The fortunate thing about your tardiness was that you'd missed cocktails. You had already decided you would politely decline when offered any, but at least now you could just sit down and not have to awkwardly mingle with a glass of water in your hand.

Ten minutes into the meal, however, you stood and excused yourself. This time Harry gave you a quizzical look, but you didn't have time to explain before rushing to the toilet. You did manage to hear him say that you'd been under the weather, no doubt trying to give his own assumption to the other guests.

You hated this. This was supposed to be a wonderful, magical night. It was only a couple hours before you were going to tell him. But you hadn't anticipated feeling like crap.

Finally cleaning up, splashing a bit of cool water on your face, you opened the bathroom door to see Harry leaning against the wall.

"What are you doing out here?" you inquired.

"Checking on you," he said. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, giving a tight-lipped smile. "Sure."

"You've gone to the bathroom fifty times today."

You chuckled nervously. "Fifty? That's a lot."

"C'mon, love," Harry urged, pushing himself off the wall with his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you shrugged. "Just been drinking a lot of water. Makes me have to go."

He stepped closer to you, reaching for your hands. Then he gazed into your eyes, making you melt and breaking your defenses like he was always so good at doing.

"Do you have something to tell me?" he asked softly.

You swallowed hard, looking down at your joined hands. Harry's thumbs ran across your knuckles, silently urging you to speak.

"Wh-what might that be?" you stumbled.

When Harry didn't reply, you lifted your eyes again. His seemed to be twinkling, though his mouth had yet to curve into a smile.

"Baby, are you..."

Though he didn't finish his sentence, you knew precisely what he was asking. You bit your lip as you felt the tears begin to well in your eyes. Harry's face lit up then at the unspoken confirmation.

"You are?" he choked.

Still unable to speak, you nodded silently.

A smile now spreading across his face, Harry cupped yours in his hands before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

"I'm so happy," he half laughed, half cried against your mouth.

This wasn't the way you had planned to tell him, in the middle of the hallway at a dinner party. But seeing him so completely giddy with the knowledge, you couldn't have picked a better time or place.

"Let me hear you say it," he sighed.

"Say it?"

You looked into his eyes again which were now utterly dancing, and you knew what he meant. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his nose.

"I'm pregnant, Harry. I'm having your baby."

Harry giggled with glee before resting his forehead against yours.

"Our baby," he whispered. "You're having our baby."