Strong [h.s]

"Pregnet"

     I s i s

"Don't you think we should tell her?"

Harry sighs, leaning forward to gather his hair in a bun. "I just don't know if it's the right time yet. . . you know how she is about grandchildren."

I rush to the opposite side of the room, where I unplug my phone from the wall and stuff it in my pocket. I woke up fifteen minutes later than I meant to this morning, and Harry's excuse for not waking me up had to do with me surely being exhausted from growing a baby.

"Harry, she's your mom. I would give anything to be able to tell mine."

Harry pulls on a long-sleeved black button-up and reaches for his cross necklace, a solemn look on his face. "I know, love, I know. I just don't want her to overwhelm you, and Randie doesn't even know about it yet."

"So we'll tell everybody over dinner. Text your mom," I say with a pointed look, "and see when she and Robin are available next."

Harry grabs his camera and bag, following me down the stairs. "You're sure?" He opens the closet and takes out my coat as I slip into my boots.

"You saw how she reacted when you didn't tell her about Randie and I living here, just imagine what it would be like if you kept this from her. She'd probably smack you into oblivion." I gratefully slide my coat on as Harry laughs, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

     "Do you want any coffee before you go?" He suddenly offers, looking over his shoulder to the kitchen.

     I shake my head. "Thanks, but I'm already running late." I don't mention the fact that nothing has even been brewed yet, instead bending over to zip up the sides of my faux leather boots.

     Harry's eyes trail slowly down my body as I stand up, taking in my disheveled appearance before his gaze snaps back up to meet mine.

     That look.

     "What about breakfast?" He rasps, wetting his lips, "I'm sure Louis won't mind if you're a little late."

     I take a step back towards the door, well aware that if I don't leave soon, I won't want to leave at all. "I already am late with the time it takes to get out there. . . and Liam will be here soon."

     Mirroring my step back, Harry takes one forward. And then another. He reaches out and gently brushes hair behind my ear, his fingertips barely grazing across my skin and sending chills down my spine.

     I can smell his cologne, some genius mixture of leather and frankincense, and I'm suddenly fully aware of our closeness. Fully aware of how that shirt makes him look, accentuating every flawless feature. The top buttons are undone, and my eyes linger where his cross pendant lay against his chest.

     It all happens in the blink of an eye: Harry's hands grip my waist as his lips catch mine, and I feel the cold surface against my back as I'm pushed against the door. I instinctively reach for the tufts of hair that have fallen loose from his bun, but he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head. He only needs one hand to hold them there, and I'm not making any moves to struggle against him. His free hand snakes down my side and under my shirt, his thumb tracing circles around my navel as he searches my eyes for permission.

     A few heavy knocks come from the door behind me, causing both of us to startle. Harry immediately releases his hold on me, taking a step back as I smooth out my hair and open the door, hoping I don't look too flushed.