After Dunkirk [Discontinued]

Sixty ~ Delivery

A/N:

I apologize in advance.

As you well know, I haven't updated in a while. There are a few reasons, one I haven't been inspired, two work has been crazy hectic and three for personal reasons so I'm going on a permanent break.

I won't delete this profile, but I'm turning off my notifications and won't reply. I'm still on Twitter, but I'm not as active on there anymore for the reasons listed above.

I realize how unfair this is to all of you, but I have to take care of my mental health. Writing Harry Styles fan fiction was fun for me and it helped fill a void in my life for a couple years. It's no longer fun and I don't feel inspired to write any more. I knew it wouldn't last forever; it was for a season.

Thank you so much for all your votes, comments and encouragement.

From Harry and Angie, Harry and Hope, Harry and Libby, Harry and Niall, Harry and Louis, Harry and Hannah, Harry and Annie, Harry and Bea, Harry and Abby, Harry and Georgina, Harry and JJ and I, thank you.

I've had this next (unfinished) chapter written (not edited) for a while when it inspired me, so I'll publish it now. You don't have to vote or comment if you're upset with me on my decision. I understand.

Xoxo
B.

***Alex's POV

"Why am I not allowed in the room with her? This is ludicrous. I want to be with my wife, for Christ's sake."

"Calm down, Al. This is the best hospital in England. I'm sure Mum and the nurses are taking real good care of Georgie."

"Yeah, I know, but I just want to be by her side a-and hold her hand while she . . . y'know," I gesture with my hands so I don't have to say the word. "I just want to be there when our child is born. I don't know why they won't let me go in the delivery room with her. I won't look . . . down there."

Soft laughter coming from across the small waiting room captures my attention.

"This is your first one, innit?" the bloke sitting in the chair across the room asks, sounding quite sure of his assumption.

His posture with one leg crossed over the other and newspaper open across his lap prove he's anything but a novice in this situation. He has a few silver streaks in his jet black hair, however the lack of wrinkles on his face proves he couldn't be but a few years older than me.

"It's complicated," I reply. "This is my first that I get to be a part of. M'just nervous is all."

"The tracks you've scored in the carpet told me that," he says in jest. "Relax, mate. These things take time. One of the nurses will bring the baby up to that window right there so you can see when the time comes. Just have a seat and take a load off. You'll wish you had this downtime when you're up at three in the morning changing that nappy."

I guess he's right.

I glance over at the window with the pale green curtains drawn shut on the other side and I take a seat next to Tommy, huffing out a breath.

"You seem rather calm," I point out to the bloke and he folds the newspaper.

"This is my fourth."

"Fourth?" I repeat in shock. "You've had to go through this torture of waiting four times?"

"Yes, sir. The name's Bailey," he extends his hand and I politely shake it. "Floyd Bailey."

"Pleasure, Mr. Bailey. I'm Alex Rutherford and this is my brother-in-law, Tommy Hughes."