Songs:
Yours: Ella Henderson
Smash Into You: Beyonce
I Love How You Love Me: The Paris Sisters
A.J.'s POV
"Babe, is that you?" Harry shouted as soon as I opened the door.
"Yeah," I shouted back, throwing my things on the floor as I walked in.
It was only two in the afternoon and I was already ready for it to end. I wanted to wake up tomorrow and not have to deal with an unplanned pregnancy and the looming decision of keeping it or not. If it didn't make things worse, the stupid little pill I'm supposed to take felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. Now I was wishing I hadn't asked for everything to be so rushed. I had to make a choice in such a short amount of time.
I thought I had already made my choice, but after Sammy's little speech, I wasn't so sure. I don't know what I was thinking when I jumped out of the car. All I knew was that I felt like I was being suffocated and I needed to run, just run until I couldn't run anymore. I hadn't even noticed I had ran to the park until I was already sitting on the bench, Pete idly sitting near by, waiting for me to make my next move. He was good, I'd give him that.
Subconsciously, all I wanted was Harry. I wanted to be wrapped up in the comfort and safety of his arms, nuzzling myself into his chest until I fell asleep. But, seeing as I couldn't come home and do that, I went for the next best thing.
"How was your appointment?" He came waltzing towards me from the hallway, kissing my lips loudly. He looked adorable in his grey Packers sweatshirt I got him for Christmas and sweatpants, just casual and lovely. "What's wrong baby, you look pale, are you feeling sick again?" His hands connected with my forehead, trying to feel my temperature.
"I'm fine, Harry," I assured him, struggling with my words, my lungs feeling strained.
Just then, I felt my knees buckle beneath me, my lower limbs going numb and my body began to sway in every direction, trying to catch my balance. Harry looked blurry, but I could swear there was two of him, he was saying something, but I couldn't exactly hear him. My vision was suddenly disturbed by little white dots floating around, as my eyes began feeling heavy until I felt myself fall, darkness taking over my vision.
The next thing I knew, I was blinking away the heaviness from my eyes. It took me a minute, but I was finally able to open them fully, seeing a concerned Harry sitting right next to me. His lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. I sat up, only to be forced back down by a numbing pain in my head.
"Don't try to get up," Harry pressed me back down to the soft surface underneath me.
"What happened?" My voice came out groggy and strained.
He put his hand to my forehead, again. "You fainted," he informed me while moving his hand all over my face.
I eventually grew irritated with him, shoving his hand away from me. What frustrated me even further was the fact that he decided that his hand should rest on my stomach. I shoved him away, not meaning to be mean, but he needed to learn some boundaries. At this moment, I didn't want any part of him to touch my stomach.
"I guess, I forgot to eat or drink anything today," I informed him, which was true. I had not eaten or drank anything since five o'clock the previous day. Which, I have gone longer, but I guess having a baby inside you would call for a little more attention.
His face grew angry, his lips pressing into a fine line and his brows hooding over his eyes. Without a single word, he left the bedroom. I shoved myself into a sitting position. My body still felt heavy, so going after him would just be foolish. I'd probably end up falling or something.
Within a few minutes, Harry returned with a tray filled with food along with four water bottles in his hand. It still amazed me how large his damn hands were. "Eat," he commanded, setting the tray on my lap while discarding all but one water bottle onto the bed.
"I'm not hungry," I really wasn't, not now.
He scolded me, his nostrils beginning to flare. He was pissed. "I'm calling a doctor to come check you out, I don't like this anymore," I could hear the concern and anger laced together in his voice.
"I'm fine Harry," I assured him. I'm just carrying your child inside of me and I forgot to feed it. And I am probably not going to keep it.
"Bullshit, you haven't gotten better since we've been in Mexico and you're throwing up and not feeling good, and now you're fainting. I don't know, but where I come from, that is not fine," he practically yelled at me, his face turning slightly red.
I covered my face with my hands, avoiding the spoonful of food he was trying to feed me like a little kid. It smelled gross, who the hell eats soup anyway? I moaned, shaking my head from side to side as he tried to pry my hands away from my face.
"Damn it, Katarina Avery-Joy Sloan Rivera, if you don't take your hands away from your face and open your fucking mouth and eat something, I swear I will stop talking to you for a whole month." His voice boomed, softly. It was full of threat, but it was just above a whisper.
"You would not," I shouted through my hands.
"Try me."
I stayed still for a moment. He was dead serious, but would he really stop talking to me just because I refused to eat? He was pretty stubborn and he usually had a habit of doing something when he put his mind to it. Fuck it. If he didn't want to talk to me, I didn't want to talk to him either.
"Five. Four." Damn it, he was totally serious. I mean, not talking to him would put a damper on our relationship. Not to mention, I would get a little bored without our back and forth banter. And the jokes, as cheesy as they were, they were still cute. "Thr-"
"Alright, geezus," I interrupted him, mid count, still not removing my hands from my face. "But, I don't want that, it smells gross."
I heard the spoon as it clattered against the bowl. "What do you want?"
I removed my hands from my face slowly, taking in his face. He was angry, but he was still composed and trying so hard not to let his anger get the best of him. "I want a hamburger and french fries, and a chocol- no, vanil- no, a strawberry shake," I placed my order, shyly, not knowing what he would say.
He watched me curiously for a few moments before pulling out his phone. "Fine, but I am sending Pete, I'm not moving away from here. And I'm serious about the doctor coming to check you out." His fingers typed out a text quickly, tossing it off to the side once he had finished.
We stayed in silence for a little bit, neither of us even looking at each other.
"I don't want a doctor to come," I finally spoke. "I already went to one," I reminded him.
"Did he tell you what was wrong with you?"
I shook my head, not knowing if my voice would betray me. "I'll find out sometime this week," I lied. When I can find out a convincing lie. We stayed in silence for another long moment.
After about five minutes of nothing being spoken and no eye contact whatsoever, I decided to break the ice. "Can I ask you something, and you have to answer me honestly?"
"Always."
I picked at the hem of my shirt a bit, not knowing exactly how to phrase my question, well, I didn't even know what my question yet. I lifted my head, my eyes meeting his expectant ones. "I was wondering, hypothetically speaking; if I were to ever become pregnant, by accident, would you, well, how would you react?"
His expression became puzzled in contrast to his angry face. "I would be in shock, obviously, since we decided on not having kids," I decided, you just went along with it. "but I would love it none the less and I would still love you just as much, or even more." He shook his head, regretting his words. "I mean, having a baby is a big responsibility for a woman and can take a toll on them, I would be more grateful for what you are doing to bring our baby into this world as well as respect you even more," he corrected himself.
"Why do you ask?" His body straightened out.
I shrugged. "Just a weird dream I had," I lied.
He surprisingly bought it, which I found odd. He usually kept pressing issues until he got the truth out of me, but he hadn't been since the whole incident with Alice. I probably could have told him I was an alien unicorn sent from space to destroy the planet and he wouldn't question me.
"What are you doing?" I asked as he grabbed his phone and began to type out a new text.
"I had agreed for us to go have dinner with my friend, Ben and his wife tonight, but since you don't feel good, I'm going to cancel."
I grabbed the phone from him before he could finish. "You don't have to cancel, just go without me."
"I'm not going without you, especially if you don't feel good. Besides, it's couples thing, James and his wife will be there too, so if you don't go, there is no point in me going." He moved the tray onto the nightstand, taking the space next to me and wrapping his arms around me, easily nuzzling me into his chest.
It was a little frustrating that he had a shirt that actually covered his entire body. Right now, all I wanted was skin contact and he was denying me my right. "Harry, were you really going to stop talking to me?" I found myself asking out of the blue.
"Mhm, well, for like a few hours. I would probably forget after a bit," he chuckled.
We stayed like that for another few minutes. Neither of us moving or speaking. I eventually felt myself drifting off to sleep every once in a while, but Harry would nudge me out of it. He was determined to get me to eat something. Now that I was a little more aware of my surroundings, I was feeling kind of starving.
Once Pete had arrived with our food, Harry had put on one of my favorite TV shows. He had also taken it upon himself to take away all my electronic devices and calling Olivia to cancel the rest of my week. I didn't protest too much. Had I decided to go into work, he swore he would follow me and not let me out of his sight. As much as I love him, having him around while I was supposed to be working wouldn't have been the best of ideas.
He was being demanding and very dominant, which I didn't know how I felt about that just yet. On one hand, he was being caring, taking care of me, which I didn't mind so much anymore. It was who he was as a person. But, on the other hand, I couldn't stand the way he so easily thought he could control me and make me do whatever he wanted.
It made me wonder what type of parent he would be. Part of him was authoritative and demanding, which made me think he might be strict and the rules guy while I was the push over. But, he was also a huge softy, his kids would probably have him wrapped around their little fingers. He could easily be either one, but I decided to believe he would be a perfect mixture of both.
Ugh. Shut up already. You do not care what type of parents you're going to be 'cause you're not having this kid. The little voice in my head scolded me. She was right, I needed to stop thinking up what-if's, it was going to drive me insane.
"Come with me, I want to show you something," Harry ruined the comfortable silence, clearing up our mess.
I took one last long sip of my milkshake before following him. He took my hand in his, leading me down the hallway, stopping once we had reached the door to the office, well, the library, I suppose. It was covered in a dark green wrapping paper with an over sized bow in the center and an over sized tag hanging off the side.
"This is a late Christmas present, I wasn't able to finish till today. Open it," he smirked. At his instruction, I grabbed the tag first and began to read it.
To: Katarina
I hope you enjoy it!
H.
I looked at him curiously for a moment, turning the knob and pushing the door open. It was different than the last time I had been in here. Instead of sleek, modern furniture, it was all scattered in a different array of colors and furniture, nothing really matched. The only thing that was set up in a sort of proper fashion was my computers. It was a larger desk than I was used to, which I later realized was meant for two people, or at least two stations. Harry's laptop occupied the other space. In the center of the desk was a picture of he and I from the night we had first met along with pictures of his sister and the picture with me, Robbie and Odie, surrounded by various office supplies. Sitting next to the picture of us with Robbie was an encased, dirty old baseball. It was his "lucky" ball, which I hadn't seen in years. It was signed by him as a joke when he would pretend to be a famous baseball player and toss it to me. I thought it had been long gone.
"Olivia found it," he answered my unasked question.
Before I could get all emotional, I moved my attention to the area behind the large desk, where a large painting hung just above the center. It was familiar, I knew in the back of my mind that I had seen it before. "Is that-"
"Your dad's last painting?" He nodded, silently answering my half asked question.
"How?" I reached out, touching the edge of the canvas. It was a landscape, something my father never did. But, it was a familiar one, it was Max's backyard, which I had never noticed before. Off to the left was the giant tree with the swing attached to it and a little girl in a floral dress sitting there alone facing the opposite direction. Behind her were dozens of little butterflies of different colors, fluttering about. Discreetly, off the the far bottom right corner were two indentations in the grass; footprints.
"I called Victor," the sudden sound of his voice scared me. "I remember you telling me that your dad was a painter and I figured, if anyone would know where to find one of his paintings, it would be him," he answered cautiously, afraid of my reaction to hearing of Victor's involvement.
Getting no reaction from me, he decided to continue on with his explanation. "This was the second piece in a series you dad was working on."
"Where's the first," I asked before he could continue.
"Victor is looking for it. Your mom, she, um, well, she got rid of it when they divorced," he spoke the last words as kindly as possible, trying not to hurt me. But, it did sting, none the less. "But, I promise, we'll find it and find a place for it. They were meant for you anyway." He handed me an envelope from somewhere behind me, placing it in my hands. "This is from him, whenever you're ready to ready it."
I felt my heart thud faster and harder against my chest. I wanted to rip the damn thing open, but I don't know if I was prepared to read something from my father. Especially in this moment, with what was going on.
I smoothed my hands over it a few times before turning and placing it back on the desk. I was thankful when Harry didn't press me or ask me anything. I continued to inspect the rest of the room.
The rest of the wall behind the desk was aligned with books from top to bottom, as well as the wall by the door and the wall opposite of the desk. I was sure that there was no bookshelves in here before. I had been in here only twice, but I think I would have remembered that.
I walked along the various rugs, inspecting the couches, chairs and lamps that riddled the room. The eye catcher was the giant, purple, velvety one seater that sat off in a corner, it was actually big enough to sit two. It had a large grey throw blanket laying across the back and arm rest, next to it was a little table with a lamp and a small arrangement of white lotus and deep red dahlias. Off to the side of that was a stack of five old looking books. At first I thought they were just decoration, but when I picked them up, they were heavy, like an actual book.
Curiosity getting the best of me, I cracked open the first book. My jaw dropped to the floor when I saw what it was. "Harry, these are all first editions from my list," I gasped, carefully looking through each book. "H-how did-" I paused as I got to the last two books. They were signed copies of Winnie-the Pooh and When We Were Very Young. They were the two books I wanted the most, but I could never find the right copies. My brother used to read them to me at night before bed whenever I was scared. But, Harry couldn't possibly know that, I never told him. I never told anyone.
My eyes went as wide as they could go, my breath leaving me. "Harold, you spent over one hundred thousand dollars on these books, what w-"
"Do you like them?" He cut me off.
"Of course, but-"
"Than I didn't spend anything," he smirked, taking the books from me and setting them back on the table. "Now go finish looking around."
Still stunned, I didn't argue, I just did as he said. The last bit of the room that was left was the area near the french double doors that lead to the patio. In the little corner was a hammock, surrounded by twinkling lights. "I aligned it, so when you lay here, you get the perfect view to the sky," he put his hands on my hips, rubbing small circles.
"Harry, did you do this all yourself?'
"I had help," he admitted. "I build the shelves with my dad, but I painted them myself and installed them with some help from Chris, John and Ed. I arranged the books alphabetically, just the way you like them. Gemma helped me pick out the furniture, which after seeing your bedroom, I'm glad I did and my mum helped me pick out the little trinkets. Louis, Niall and Liam helped me move in the furniture last Monday after we went out for breakfast. I had to face time Odette to help me set up your computers since Samara had no clue, oh and she also sent me the links to the books from your list, which you already knew and Olivia helped me speed up the process." He smiled as he spoke.
"So, literally everybody knew, but me?"
He nodded, the bun on his head shaking along. "I wanted you to have a space you could go if you ever are upset, you are surrounded by the people you care about you, in a figurative sense at least. It's not finished yet, I'm still waiting on a few key pieces from Samara, Eva, Tommy, Alice, Alex and your grandpa. I was going to wait till then, but you seem like you need some cheering up."
I turned around, working against his firm grip on my hips, pulling him down to me to kiss him. He was caught off guard, but quickly began to kiss back. After a few moments, I was running out of breath, but I didn't care. He literally thought of every single little thing and incorporated the people most important in our lives, including my dad and brother. I reluctantly pulled away before I suffocated us both.
"How did you know about the Pooh books?" I found myself asking once I regained control of my breathing.
He smirked, pecking my lips. "You tend to talk in your sleep when you have nightmares."
"I love you," was all I could say before throwing myself in his arms.