1. Close to Nothing *Finished*

Maisey-- the "weakling". The quiet one. The one everyone leaves out. The one no one understands. The one often called "loner" or "wimp". The one that does all that she can to understand others, but just can't. The one that finally meets the guy of her dreams, but there's no way he'll ever be into her.
Maisey... The one who has close to nothing to live for. But only one person can change that. But first, he'll have to notice her. Or maybe... she'll have to notice HIM.

(Warning: some scenes that may not be appropriate for readers younger than 13-15 years old. Reader discretion advised.)


9. Confrontation

Harry's POV

After spring break, I was in a little bit of a shock. We were pregnant, first of all, and I was fixing to go on tour within a matter of weeks. I hadn't broken the news to the guys yet, but it was bound to happen soon. Maisey seemed rather upset about being pregnant, but to be honest, I was excited. I'd always had the paternal instincts, they'd just never been put to use, obviously. 

The first day back to school was a rough one. Maisey clung to me in case of an Elizabeth attack (as we called it). Every time we passed one of her entourage, Maisey would whimper softly, pressing her side to mine. 

She had told her mum and dad about her pregnancy, and they responded surprisingly well. We went in for her first checkup within the next few days after school. The doctors explained that she needed to keep low on activity, because of her naturally weak stomach, which was going to be difficult when we left for tour. 

I spotted her in the hall at the end of the day. Her eyes darted nervously around the hallway, when they suddenly stopped and widened at their sighting. I quickly rushed to her, placing a firm hand on her waist, "Hurry. Let's go." Heavy footsteps behind us rang out, causing me to whirl around in instinct.

"I've heard on Twitter that you'll be leaving with Harry on tour, Maisey," Elizabeth sneered, as if I wasn't even there. 

"You heard right," Maisey shot back with an annoyed glare. 

"Hmph," Elizabeth smirked, puckering her lips. "Better watch out... I don't think the fans are very happy with you." She had a suspicious look on her face. I had to step in.

"It doesn't matter if the fans like her or not," I defended Maisey. "I'll love her the same. Hate on her all you want, but she'll always be mine." I decided not to mention the whole pregnancy thing to avoid any further interrogation.

"You're making a mistake," she muttered, stalking off. Right-- the mistake of not punching Elizabeth straight in the nose!

"Are you okay?" I asked Maisey, who was staring blankly into her locker. She glanced at me, nodding.

"Yeah," she said softly. "Just thinking."

"Don't let anything she says go to your head, love,"

"I try not to," her voice cracked a little. "But sometimes I think that some of it is true... Especially with  what she just said."

"No, no," I took her face in my hands, kissing her mouth briefly. She nodded slowly, her light eyes gravely solemn.

"Harry," we began walking out of the school. "They're going to hate me even more for being pregnant with your baby."

"I don't care,"

"You should! It's a big deal! I'm just afraid that it'll make us...." she trailed off, staring at the ground..

"Never," I interrupted, stopping her in her tracks. "Promise me that you'll never let the fandoms get the best of you."

"I-I promise," she murmured. I led her to my car, allowing her to get into the passenger seat. I felt so much protection towards her that I couldn't even express. She was carrying my child, and I had to defend her no matter what. 

Maisey's POV

"Harry, are you packed?" I called to him, zipping up my suitcase.

"No," he groaned. "So tired." I plopped next to him on the bed, putting my face by his.

"Please pack," I pleaded, kissing his temple. A smile crept to his plump lips, and his green eyes opened slowly. 

"Can we have some fun first?" he begged, grabbing my waist. I grabbed his hands, shaking my head, though I wanted to.

"No!" I pointed him down the hall to go pack for tour. We were leaving in only few hours to fly to America. I was truthfully nervous about fans noticing my slight belly bump. But really, they'd never seen me before, so maybe they'd just assume I was a little fat? I giggled silently to myself, following Harry down the hall with my bags. He threw his things into the suitcase, zipping it up quickly.

"Done," he gave me a cheeky smile. "Now can we?" I rolled my eyes, but nodded, finally giving in. He put his hands on my hips, pulling me into him; crashing his lips into mine. I ran my hands through his loose curls, tugging on them slightly, receiving a slight moan from Harry. He carried me to the sofa, hovering over me with a dirty smirk. He ran a hand up to my shirt, pulling my it half up to reveal my growing belly. 

"What do you think it'll be?" he stared at my stomach with such interest. "Girl or boy?"

"There's no saying," I shrugged. "I'd like it to be a surprise, though."

"I wouldn't!" he complained. "I want to know so we can think of names when the time comes!"

"No," I pursed my lips. "It makes things more exciting when we don't know."

"Fine," he pouted, leaving kissing up my torso, then leading down to my abdomen. As his fingers slowly unbuttoned my shorts, the door swung open.
"Haz, ready to--" Louis stood at the door, eyes widened, embarrassed grin on his face. "Er, my bad..."

Harry jumped off of me, allowing me to button my shorts, "Nice, Lou." he said sarcastically. 

"The boys and rest of the girls are waiting on the bus," Louis informed us. "We're waiting on you two, but apparently you had other plans." He smirked.

"Shut up, Lou," I joked, slapping his stomach playfully. I grabbed my things and made my way downstairs to the awaiting tour bus. We'd be flying a private jet to America, just taking the bus to the airport. There was a crowd of fans gathered around the bus as I walked out of the building.

"It's Maisey!" One of them shouted, causing a crazy commotion of fangirls scrambling to try to get to me. All I could do was keep walking, not knowing what they were going to do. A bunch of them asked for autographs, which I gave gladly. But one of them stood there, staring at me in a peculiar way-- as if she noticed something was different. I avoided her as much as possible, though I could feel her cold eyes scanning my body.

"Okay, that's enough for now, girls," Perrie came out of the tour bus, breaking up the crowd. "Let's go, Maisey." I took her hand, rushing to the bus.

"Thank you," I mouthed to her. She winked with a beautiful smile. Her purple hair was up in a high top-knot, and she was wearing a pair of white studded high-waisted shorts with a tucked in blue, crop-top. She was flawlessly pretty, with expressive eyes and high cheekbones. I longed to look like her. 

"Hey, Maisey!" Dani, Eleanor, and the guys greeted me, giving me hugs and pecks on the cheek. I received a little bit longer of a kiss from Niall, but shook it off. 

"Excited for tour?" Zayn asked as we sat down. I nodded with a smile.

"Very, but also really nervous,"

"Why?" Liam asked, brow furrowed. "Tour is no time to be nervous! It's a time to have fun."

"Well..." I began as Harry walked in.

"Guys, Maisey and I have something to tell you," he butted in with a nervous air to his voice.

"Of course," Niall gave him some room on the sofa.

Harry took my hand, rubbing gentle circles on it with his thumb, "Well, we found out a couple of days ago that we're... Er, we're..."

"Pregnant," I finished, keeping my eyes on Harry. Eleanor drew in a breath, but then allowed  a huge grin to come to her lips.
"Pregnant?" the boys asked, everyone was smiling but Niall. 

"Yep," Harry put an arm around me, scooting me closer to him. 

"Harry, that's wonderful," Dani breathed. "But, don't you think you're a little young?"

"It wasn't exactly on purpose," Harry admitted. "But I'll be the best father I can be."

"We're happy for you two," Liam put an arm around Dani.

"As are we," Eleanor squeezed Louis' knee. 

"Same," Zayn held Perrie's hand. I could tell he had a longing to be like us. 


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