Naomis POV
I've never been the type of person to let other people call the shots. I haven't ever taken criticism well. I don't let others tell me what to do.
Harry had come to me very bluntly with his opinion of things. It seemed he had thought long and hard before approaching me. He probably sat on the sidelines observing in the way he did for a while before deciding to get involved. It was interesting seeing him develop a personality outside of his addictions. He was becoming more like a real person to me and less like a concept, or the shell of someone I used to know.
I was surprised to find myself admitting he was right. Truthfully, nothing he said was remotely different than the thoughts already swirling in my head, but to be called out was like the push I needed to get out of my own head.
We had ended up driving for upwards of an hour. After our conversations about my inadequacy as a partner, Harry had actually convinced me to drive him through the countryside so that he could "Look at springtime," before returning home. We talked about nothing, aside from Harry musing about some of the horrible things he'd been caught doing in public as a means to ease my anxieties. His argument was essentially that I couldn't be worse than him. He had a point.
Then I'd asked him about Lux and he'd gone pink in the ears before telling me it was none of my business. Then he'd added that he didn't think Louis liked her. I reminded him he hadn't used to like her either. He'd just laughed and muttered "details." Then he'd reminded me that he was a "nightmare" but at least Lux wasn't scared to be photographed with him.
Louis had been pretty shocked to see the two of us returning together. He'd raised his eyebrows and inquired about what was happening. Harry had just smirked and told him, "Mind your business."
So much for our business being collective.
Still, that night, when we were lying in bed, I decided that Harry was right. There was no time like the present.
"You make me happy," I said carefully. We were lying on opposite sides of the bed, which didn't ignite the calm and happy feelings of belonging that I had previously felt with Louis at bed time. My hesitations have ebbed there way into other parts of our life. It was time they stopped.
Louis seemed to stiffen in bed, as if afraid of this conversation. Harry had told me that Louis anxiety was unmatched. "I probably caused it," he'd added. Louis constantly worried about what would happen next in his life. I'd only made that worse.
I felt him sit up behind me, but I kept my back turned. "Do I?" He inquired hopefully.
"You do," I answered. "And I don't want to keep making you feel like you don't."
"Is this because of something Harry said?" Louis questioned. I felt his hand touch my shoulder lightly.
I shook my head rolling over to face him. "No. Harry's fine." That may have been a little bit of a lie. Harry was actually kind of a nightmare, although I say that in the most loving way possible. He was a teenager in the body of an adult. Teenagers were just difficult.
Louis eyes were boring into me skeptically. The blue was piercing and intense.
"I want to go public with you," I added nervously. "I don't want to make you hide with me anymore."
Louis eyebrows furrowed. I sat up to be face to face with him. "You don't have to do that," he responded in a sad voice. "I don't want to rush you."
I nodded and tried to put a smile on my face. "I want to. For you. You deserve to be loved in public."
He allowed a hopeful expression to slip over his face, but only slightly. He still kept his eyebrows furrowed, like he was waiting for me to yell: just kidding, go back to sleep.
"You can't take it back once it happens," he informed me. "Once we're out there, things won't be the same for you."
He was right. Lux had been out with Harry several times, but once pictures released from the party, she was the subject of speculation immediately. It had died down after a couple of days, but she told me that the few times since then that she'd ventured out with Harry, they'd been stopped and she'd been recognized by name by his fans. She wasn't even sure where they'd learned her name. Harry was starting to enjoy the attention again. She told me that sobriety was slowly helping him remember how to be outgoing.
"I know," I agreed nodding. "But that's your life. It's inevitable and if I want to be a part of your life, then I am going to do it on my terms." Or, as Harry had reminded me, my other option was to wait for it to come out on its own and then see what happened. I didn't want to do that.
Louis broke a real smile. "You'll have to quit your job," he reminded me.
I smirked. "I'll be busy being a homeschool mum anyways."
Louis and I had many conversations about the best way to introduce me to public life, but in the end, we decided it would just be easiest to go out with Harry and Lux as if it were no big deal. The four of us had become very close knit and having Lux at my side as arguably the most comfortable person in the group was calming.
We decided to go to dinner at some place Louis and Harry used to order food from. It was very fancy and very expensive looking. I was still getting used to hanging out in the portions of London where people had money. That had never been my experience before. Louis told me they had to rsvp in advance and when we arrived, the workers immediately ushered us to a roped off section clearly meant for the elites. Louis and Harry didn't exactly look like elites, but the workers definitely knew who we were.
Once seated at our table, Lux nudged me. "Quit looking so nervous," she said with a smile.
"Lux," Harry scolded. "Of course she's nervous. She hasn't done this before." Lux rolled her eyes but Harry gave me an empathetic look. "Just act how you would normally," he instructed. "You're already super cookie cutter polite. They eat that shit up."
Across the room there was a flash faced our direction as a teenager with a cellphone tried to take our picture from over the velvet rope. Louis flinched but Harry smiled.
"Ignore them," Louis agreed grabbing my hand under the table. "It feels hard now but it gets easier."
I nodded, focusing on the sounds of their voices. This was just the first of many. I'd be okay. Their reassurances told me I'd be okay.
We ordered our food and I ignored the pointing or the staring coming from the people that passed us. Nobody stopped at our table to bother us as our food arrived. Louis had told me the restaurant wouldn't allow that.
Finally, after our conversations had been exhausted, I made eye contact with Louis and then smiled. It was time for the real reveal. That morning he had accompanied me to the doctor and now we were finally able to tell them the fun thing we'd learned.
"So, the babies a boy," Louis said casually.
Harry dropped his fork and allowed a grin to work it's way onto his face. Lux stiffened and looked directly at me for confirmation.
Harry recovered from his surprise first and then looked at Louis with wide eyes. "Name it after me," he commanded with excitement.
"Absolutely not," Louis laughed looking at me lovingly.
I smiled. "I'll add it to the list."
Louis POV
The same night that we went to dinner, Naomis picture had appeared beside mine in a host of tabloids. My mostly quiet reemergence into music and the sudden appearance of Harry and I in public venues had prompted some tabloid writing. Harry had always maintained some name recognition but that was mostly for the bad things he'd done. Now that we were both out, seemingly happy and healthy and pretending our several years hiatus in the dark hadn't happened, people had questions.
The images taken at dinner left people to speculate about the pregnant woman under my arm. Most things were positive. Some weren't, but Naomi didn't want to see any of it at all and we respected that. Her desire for privacy was something I liked about her. Lux loved the attention and after watching her and Harry ogle at the tabloids on the sofa, I was sure that was absolutely not something I desired to do.
I knew that Harry had something to do with Naomis change of heart. He'd refused me details but I could surmise that he'd encouraged her to essentially "get over it." Apparently it had worked. Harry continually surprised me.
Naomi told me that she planned to work until it wasn't possible, but she found that not much had changed at work yet. She looked different somehow in her little apron. She didn't do her makeup for work and left her wispy hair to fall into her face. When we'd gone out, she'd anticipated pictures and gotten dolled up accordingly. She looked stunning in the photographs but her regular attire acted as a camouflage at work. It wouldn't last, but at least for the first week, nobody had questioned her about me. She even admitted she'd been more scared than necessary.
I continued working on music. Time was passing quickly and I needed to be ready to meet with Melvins team within a few months. Harry even joined me to be a sounding board for ideas. He'd gotten better at the guitar again and although he wouldn't admit it, he was enjoying the chance to be involved in it. He still told me no, when I would ask him to come on the project officially. Melvin kept asking me to ask anyways.
Melvin was actually very demanding. He texted me multiple times a week asking for updates, sound bites and about Harry. He asked my opinion on things I didn't even truthfully understand. Harry told me I just needed to be more firm about boundaries but I was kind of enjoying having someone check up on me. It kept me on task.
"You should be more open minded," Harry told me while reading through sheet music. "Cats are great."
He had brought up the cat conversation again. I wasn't sure where it kept coming from but I was tiring of the subject. He didn't even want a cat. He always changed his mind. He just wanted to talk about wanting a cat.
"Cats pee on things," in informed him while playing a few quiet notes on the piano. I was stuck on something. He was supposed to be helping. Mostly, he was just keeping me company.
"But they look cute while doing it," Harry reminded me. He grabbed a pencil and started aggressively erasing something from the bottom of the sheet. I cringed, but didn't challenge his aid. He looked deep in thought about it alongside his cat thoughts.
"You know they'd pay you, if you were just willing to do this officially," I mused watching him concentrate. "And I'm having a baby. Babies are cute."
He did a half smile. "True. Babies are cute." He ignored the other statement, as I'd expected him to do. "I hope little baby Harry is cute at least."
"I'm not calling him that," I took the sheets back to him to see what he'd changed. His adjustment was actually better than mine. He'd always been good at this when he was sober. Some of our best music had never been released because he wrote it in the period of sobriety just before the hiatus.
"You should," he teased. "Although maybe not, because if he ever sees my old news stories, he'll be embarrassed."
I rolled my eyes. He talked about his issues in the past tense. He'd started doing that more recently. It was comforting to see him starting to separate himself from that person he'd become. We hadn't quite hit the threshold that he'd reached during his last bout of sobriety, but he seemed to be handling it better this time anyways.
He had started trusting himself. He was venturing out alone. He'd started asking for rides and dropping by the hospital periodically without schedule to visit the groups. He told me very little about it still, and he went less than weekly but he said it helped. It made him feel grounded.
He started meditating which I struggled not to make fun of. Lux didn't hide her amusement but she still left him to do his thing. He told us he was trying to be more spiritual, but offered no elaboration. I didn't think he'd magically started believing in God, but he said that he liked to think the universe was more connected than we thought. He'd also confirmed he wasn't on drugs when I'd inquired where those thoughts came from. He ordered an audiobook of his sobriety book online, and told me he'd understand it better if it didn't give him a head ache to read. In the mean time, he started listening to Billy Joel, The Rolling Stones, Elton John and the Beatles. That was the music he actually liked. I hadn't heard it slipping out of his room in a very long time.
All of these things were good signs to me. Harry had gotten lost as a teenager. He'd skipped all of his developing adulthood years through inebriation and now that he was on the other side, sober and living, he was rapidly trying develop a sense of self. Watching it form before our eyes was incredible. He was incredible.
He also didn't seem to need me as much anymore. That part was bittersweet. In the month since the party, he had realized he had the ability to care for himself and I loved watching it, although the seats at the sidelines were uncomfortable for me to sit silently in. I would get used to it.
Harry's POV
Maybe I was too paranoid, but the calmness that followed in those weeks was unnerving. Nothing was wrong. Everything was actually seemingly incredible for the first time in a while. I was doing well. I was avoiding conflict. I was safe and sober and cooking and going in public and playing music with Louis. He was trusting me to manage myself which felt huge and scary, but also empowering. He didn't even expect me to tell him ahead of time that I was going somewhere, which felt weird after so many years of watching him fret over me. I didn't even have anywhere to go, I just went for walks around our flat and watched spring take over London.
I partook in exactly one phone call from my sister just a few weeks after I'd taken Naomi on the "awkward relationship talk" car ride. She had rang me twice and I finally answered the second time after fighting off the surge of heart stopping panic I'd gotten at the sight of her name on the screen.
"Baby brother," she'd greeted me in a formal tone.
I'd cleared my throat awkwardly before responding, "How can I help you Gemma?"
"Did you cut your hair? I saw a picture of you with less hair." She asked casually.
I nodded, then remembered she couldn't see me. "I did."
"Mum said it looked better this way," she mused. I exhaled sharply at the mention of my mum. She hadn't called me on my birthday or after the subsequent hospitalization. I had stopped attempting to call her too. Gemma was working her way to the top of my no-contact list too although she had her moments.
"Glad she liked it," I muttered self consciously. I was already letting it grow back out. I had missed the long curls too much.
"Are you doing okay?" She inquired at random.
"I am," I replied. That didn't feel like a lie. Maybe if I keep my answers short, she'll lose interest.
"I saw you were in the hospital," Gemma pressed.
"I was," I admitted although what felt like a very long time had passed. "Briefly."
"A whole week?" Gemma sounded like she was genuinely interested. Personally, I was getting tired of being used as a means for her to boost her ego as the sibling who didn't suck.
"Yeah," I agreed. "A whole week."
"Mum wants to know why," she said carefully.
"Mum can ask me herself if she'd like to know," I retorted. It came out with more attitude than I'd intended but I made no move to soften the blow.
Gemma went quiet for a moment. I think she gathered that she wasn't going to get details from me, because she changed her tone. "You looked better in the photographs I saw afterwards. I was happy for you."
I sighed. "I'm doing better than normal," I confirmed for her.
"Are you going back to work or something? I heard rumors that your boyfriend— I mean your roommate was doing something." She notably tried and failed to refrain from taunting my friendship with Louis.
"No," I said sharply. "I wish people would stop asking me to work. Sounds like a nightmare."
"What are you doing instead?" She asked.
"Working on myself," I informed her truthfully.
I heard her laughter stifled through the speaker. "That's good to hear."
I let a small smile play on my face. "It's good," I agreed.
"I would like to see you sometime," she added. I stiffened. She never said that. She hadn't offered to see me since a time years ago during my quick 4 months of sobriety. I wasn't sure how to respond. "If you're up to it," she added, sensing my hesitation.
"I'll... I'll let you know when I'm up to it," I said evasively.
Our call had concluded shortly after and I'd almost immediately asked Louis for a ride to one of the sobriety meetings, to cut off the desires and temptations brought on by my discussion with Gemma. Family was a huge trigger for me, I was learning.
Still, having Gemma in my life wouldn't be the worst. We did have some semblance of a sibling bond. It was marred by circumstance and difficult family dynamics but we still had history. She still seemed to care for me in her own way. She had called to check up, even if she was months late from the action. That wasn't nothing. It told me she thought of me at the very least.
Truthfully, I used her desire to see me as just another thing to drive me towards doing the right thing. I didn't want to see her until I felt settled, so I focused my energies on becoming settled. I would stay sober. I would stay clean. I would become independent. I would do the right things.
I spent all of my time trying to do the right things.