Eucatastrophe ~ h.s.

This isn't how I planned any aspect of my life to occur.

The plan was simple: Finish university with a 4.0 GPA, Get a well-paying corporate job that's more intense than the assistant job I've now, Find a man that loves me for me, Get married at a gorgeous ceremony, Have beautiful children, Grow old with the man of my dreams and watch our kids mature right before our eyes, and Then fall deeper and deeper in love with our time together.

That Night wasn't supposed to happen. My life wasn't supposed to turn out like this.

*Contains: Language, mild sexual content, and a bit of violence. Content could be triggering for some.*


49. ✗ forty-seven ✗


27 August

Standing in the doorway of our old bedroom I can't help but shed a few tears at the memories that flood my mind.

I remember when I came up here the day of the party to help Harry find an outfit to wear for the night. We joked with each other until we were both laughing and I was rolling my eyes.

I remember when Harry brought me back to his place to stay, the first night I slept in his bed.

I remember the first time we shared his bed, waking up in the morning cuddled together before we had proclaimed our feelings for each other. Everything that we've shared in this room flashes together like a miniature movie across my field of vision.

The light grey walls with dark wood furniture suit Harry's style. He has a modern sense to him and just from the looks of his home and office, it shows. The bed is made nicely with the white duvet pulled tight and four pillows that look to die for. I've yet to sleep in days and all I can think about is how nicely this room looks. Though, I can't help but think this isn't the guest room.

"My guest rooms aren't in the best of shape right now, purely because I don't usually host guests." He chuckles at his own words before shaking his head, his hair shaking out. "The last time I had a guest over it was my sister and she got so drunk she slept on the living room floor." I stare up at Harry with widened eyes for his sister's sake. His eyes widen immediately, thinking I'm probably hardcore judging him. "I mean I put her on the couch, but she fell off it in the middle of the night. Anyways, you can stay here, in my room, and I'll sleep in one of the guest rooms."

"That's not necessary."

"Trust me, it is. You deserve a good night's rest." He says honestly. I glance over towards his large, king-sized bed. It does look like a cloud of feathers awaiting my body to flop down upon it. "Plus, my mattress is the comfiest in the whole house."

"Hey, ready to go?" I hear from behind me.

I quickly wipe the tears and push off of the doorframe to look back at Harry. He had just finished loading the vehicle with the last of the stuff we were taking. The movers took his bed this morning round nine, hours ago. Harry puts his hand atop my shoulder and gives it a small squeeze.

"What's wrong? Are you crying?" I nod briefly as a few more tears drip down my cheeks and I wipe them away.

"Stupid pregnancy hormones." I blame the tears on, as I make sure they're all gone from my face. "I'm just going to miss it is all."

I look up to Harry's face to see him frowning into the room as he snakes his arm around my waist. I lean against him, resting my head on his shoulder and staring into the empty room. "Remember the first night we shared your bed?" Harry chuckles lightly and nods his head against mine.

"How could I forget the night you basically ordered me into bed with you?"

"I did not order you into bed with me."

"Oh, but you did." I giggle lightly and turn in Harry's embrace, snaking my arms around his neck to hold him close. I breathe in his heavenly scent and let my eyes close as I breathe deeply. "Maybe you can order me into bed with you tonight."

I can practically hear the smirk across his plump, pink lips as my eyes remain closed. Harry lets out a loud cough, his chest vibrating as I pull away, scrunching my nose at the sound.

I place my hands on his cheeks once he's finished, my eyes narrowing. His face almost looks paler today and his cheeks are incredibly flushed, as if he had just worked out, which he hasn't. I feel around a bit and rest the base of my wrist against him forehead. He seems almost feverish, but I can't exactly tell. Plus he's been coughing a lot recently, but is yet to complain about any symptoms.

"You're really hot, Harry." I mutter, studying his face under my hands.

"Thank you." He says with a grin. I roll my eyes and shake my head at him.

"You know what I mean, I think you might have a fever."

In all my years of working for Harry, he's never once missed work due to being ill. I thought it was an urban myth that Harry Styles could get sick. But his face seems to show the signs as well as the cough he's been sporting for the last couple of days. I don't know why I didn't put two and two together; although the man is rather good at hiding his symptoms from me, as well as other things.

"I feel fine, Shay. Trust me." He says, leaning down to peck my cheek. "Besides, I thought I was the one to be worrying about you, not the other way around." I roll my eyes and shake my head at him. "Shay, quit looking at me like that, I'm perfectly fine. Now, can we get a move on? I want to see your face when you see the house for the first time."

I huff loudly and drop my hands from his face, turning and walking out of the room, leaving Harry in a trail of dust. He calls after me but I simply ignore him as I descend the stairs, one hand on the railing the other placed on my small bump.


"Why can't you just let me take care of you?" I question, my tone coming out a bit harsh. It's not that I'm mad, but... I don't know my emotions are taking over.

I reach the bottom of the stairs and turn to look at the man following me. "You care for me 24/7, so why can't I do the same? I don't know why but it makes me kind of angry."

Harry frowns at me and hops down the rest of the stairs, taking me in his arms.

"Shay, I'm fine, really." I pull my face from his chest and narrow my eyes at him. Harry lets out a deep sigh. "Okay, if I must be completely honest, I feel a bit under the weather, but I didn't want you to worry. It's not good for you."

"Well, neither is illness for you." I pout. "I just want you well, I need you well. I'm eighteen weeks pregnant, Harold, two weeks until we find out the gender of the baby. I need you healthy for that, we need you healthy for that." I say, placing both hands of Harry's hands on my bump.

Harry sighs with a slight grin on his face, running his thumb across the mint coloured fabric covering my bump. I know he hates it when I call him Harold.

"Okay. I've a bit of a sore throat, my stomach is a little quezzy, and I'm rather warm. Other than that I'm fine."

"Stop being all tough." I scold as I take his hand in mine and tug him towards the front door.

I pick my handbag up off the ground and snake my arm around Harry's waist. I smile up at him and lean in like I'm going to kiss his cheek, but instead slide his car keys out from his back pocket. "You can remain tough all you want but I don't need you passing out at the wheel."

"I'm not going to-"

"Nope, let me handle this." I say, taking Harry's hand yet again and leading him from the house.

As soon as we step out onto the front stoop Harry's phone rings loudly, causing us both to jump. I look to the pocket of his jeans where the noise is coming from and watch as Harry pulls the device out of his constricting pants. "Anything important?" I question.

It's Saturday afternoon and Harry always takes his Saturday's away from business, unless he's out of town. Granted, he says he takes Saturday's off but there used to be many of weekends where he'd call me up on a Saturday inquiring about business things and asking me to help him out with some paperwork. Who was I to judge? I'm kind of a workaholic too.

"Just Louis." Harry says, denying the call and sticking his phone back into his pocket.

"Could have been important."

"It's Louis." He reminds me, coughing loudly. "He's probably just curious about what we did last night."

"We didn't do anything last night." I say, scrunching my eyebrows together.

After dinner, Harry and I returned to the house. I was half asleep in the car and as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out. I got a few birthday kisses throughout the day, but nothing more than that, unfortunately I was just too exhausted.

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that."

We stand on the front stoop chuckling with each other and taking one last look at the place before closing the door and locking it. Harry and I climb into the vehicle and we begin the short drive to the new house the only sound between us the annoying ringing of Harry's phone. I tell him to answer it again and he persistently denies the call again and then shuts his phone all the way off. His excuse: he wants today to just be about us, and this new home.

I've never been before, but Harry has and he knows the way. He spent many days within the past week making sure everything was coming into place. He had taken it upon himself to go over to the house after work, arranging his driver, which he doesn't use often, to take me home. He'd come home around dinner with paint-splattered clothes and a huge smile. To say I'm excited to see the home is an understatement.

In a matter of minutes, if that, we've arrived outside the brick building I've seen in many pictures.

"This it?" Harry glances out my window to my side and smiles, nodding his head. I smile back before cutting the ignition and hopping out. "It's beautiful." I say as I wait for Harry to join me at this side of the Range Rover. When he does, we go hand in hand towards the building, my eyes scanning our new home rapidly.

I love how quiet it is around here, the noise from the street a bare minimum. The home itself gives off a city vibe without us having to live directly in the city.


I nod my head as Harry leads me to the front door. He takes my keys from my hand and flips to the correct key; with a large smile he slides it into the lock and clicks it. I hold my breath as he pushes the brown door open, there's nothing but a closet and yet another door ahead of us.

"We've a nice little storage area to put our coats." He points to the sliding door at my right before going to the door and pushing it open. My eyes are met with stairs going up and a small foyer.

"I already love it."

"Oh baby, this is nothing." He says with a grin. "Here we have a small toilet and our laundry room. I'm thinking I'll handle the laundry especially with all the stairs, actually I volunteer to do all the cooking too since the kitchen is located down here as well. Wouldn't want you to tire yourself out."

Harry leads me to the kitchen and dining room, a gasp leaving my lips.

The kitchen is even more beautiful than the pictures had presented it to be and the dinning room table from Harry's old home sits perfectly near the roll away floor to ceiling windows at the back of the house.

"This is beautiful!" I exclaim with a happy smile. The pictures didn't do this house justice. "I can't wait to do some cooking in here or eat as a family at the table." Harry saunters over to me where I stand in the center of the room and wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin against my shoulder.

"I'm on cooking duty and I don't really think we'll be spending much time down here anyways, we can always eat upstairs."

"You speak of me like I can't walk. I can take stairs, Harry."

His lips make contact with my shoulder before trailing up my neck until they're kissing the case of my ear.


"I'm pregnant."

"Which is the perfect excuse to stay in bed all day and watch movies."

I laugh lightly and turn in his embrace, his hands landing on my hips.

"What about work?" I question.

If his idea is to have me stay in bed all day long then when will I ever have time for work? I know for a fact that he needs me there; he's a bloody mess without me. Plus, I can't just sit around all day in bed. I need to be productive, it's in my genes.

The look on Harry's face says it all. He wants me to stop working, or take a break at that. I shake my head immediately and wiggle from his grasp, rounding the room so that I'm standing near the floor to ceiling windows, looking out onto the terrace.

"I can't stay home from work Harry. I'm going to work until I can no longer walk or until this baby is ready to pop out of me." I say, resting my hands on the small bump. "I've still got nearly five and a half months left of his pregnancy. I'm not taking that much time off from work, even if you insist."

"Come on, love. I want you to rest. Lately, you've been really tired and run down when we come home from work. It's not good for you or the baby." He says standing beside me and wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"I'm not ready to quit, or take time off, yet. Give me a couple more months and I'll let you know when I'm ready." I look up to Harry's pale face and his eyes scan my own. A sigh leaves his lips before a small grin takes place over his pink lips. "Plus, I want you to rest. It's not good to work ill, now is it?" Harry rolls his eyes at me and sighs loudly.

"You're so stubborn."

"I know, now show me the rest of the magnificent place."


The jolting motion against my body as it's pushed off the firm body beneath me sends me startling awake. My eyes spring open to the meet the darkness of our bedroom as I slowly sit and look to the place that now resides empty beside me.

In utter confusion, I reach over and flip on the lamp, taking a glance at the clock as I do so. It's three in the morning and Harry's just gone missing from bed. I can only assume the jolting motion I felt was him sneaking out of the bedroom only seconds ago.

"Harry?" I call out lightly into the silence around us.

The silence is soon torn when I hear the haunting sounds of vomiting coming from the on-suite bathroom. Not sick my ass, I think as I push the duvet off my lower half and stand to my feet. I walk to the door of the bathroom and peek around the corner seeing him kneeling on the ground before the toilet.

"Awe, Harry." I mumble as I rush over to him and gather his hair away from his face.

He continues getting sick for a few moments before he wipes his mouth and flushes the toilet. I rub his back and kneel down beside him as he falls onto his bum and leans back against the wall. His face is incredibly flush and there are trickles of sweat along his forehead. He looks worse now than he had before.

"I'm fine, Shay. Go back to bed." He mumbles his voice hoarse as he shuts his eyes and takes deep breaths. I shake my head at him and feel his forehead.

"You're not, you feel incredibly warm."

I stand to my feet and walk to the sink, opening the cupboards above the porcelain to try and locate a thermometer or something to ease the vomiting and sickness. I open different cupboards in hopes of finding something. I don't know where much is in this house since yesterday was the first time I ever stepped foot in it. I finally locate a thermometer and sink down onto the floor beside Harry.

"Open up."


"I'm in no mood for arguments and neither are you. It's three in the morning. Don't be stubborn and open up."

Harry's eyes fit mine before he slowly opens his mouth. I place the covered thermometer underneath his tongue as he closes his mouth.

Standing from the floor and walk aimlessly around the bathroom I pace as I wait for the beep of the device. Once it sounds I capture the thermometer in my hand and stand tall, reading the temperature. A sigh leaves my lips as I dispose of the cover in the bin and put the thermometer away.

"What'd it say?" Harry croaks from the floor, staring up at me with sad eyes.

"38.4 C (101.4 F). You've a fever."

Harry moans and crosses his arms over his stomach and chest, pouting like a tired child. His hair is absolutely everywhere and his topless body is basically glistening in sweat. He looks so sad to be sick, not that anyone's really happy to be ill.

"You don't have to care for me, baby." He barely whispers, looking up at me through thick eyelashes as I stand before him, pondering what to do. "You need your sleep." I shake my head immediately, there's no way I'm letting him suffer on his own. I can take a nap later, we both can. Right now we need to focus on his symptoms.

"I'm not going to bed until you're feeling the least bit better. I don't care if I'm up all night. Now," I kneel before him and brush some of his messy hair back, "what are you symptoms?"

"Nausea, sore throat, stuffy nose, cough-" as if on cue he begins to cough heavily and I move out of the way as he leans over the toilet and empties his stomach again.

"Oh hon." I mutter, holding his hair back and rubbing his back softly. It's as if the roles have been reversed.

When I was getting ill with morning sickness day and night I was in Harry's position and he mine. His touch always seemed to soothe me; I just hope it'd work vice versa. "I wonder if you caught that nasty flu that's been making it's way round work. It may be the same thing Clark had." I say, remembering back to that night Lou dropped Lux off at the old house.

"I don't wanna go to the hospital."

"Okay, then we need to work on medicating you here and getting that fever down." Harry cleans his mouth once again and sits back on the floor. I scrunch my nose as I take a glance in the bowl before flushing it. It's a good thing the sight of vomit doesn't make me lose last night's dinner.

I leave Harry's side as I rummage around in the cupboards looking for some medicine. To my luck it's to be found right beside the thermometer. I grab two capsules and hand them to Harry before filling a paper cup with water and handing that to him as well. He takes the two of them and swallows them slowly as I pray they don't just come back up.

I place my hand over Harry's forehead again and then feel around his extremely warm face. Biting my lip, I stand to my feet and look around the bathroom. I've absolutely no idea what to do here. I've been sick before, just never really had a fever since being on my own. I remember when I was young my nanny would have me take a cool shower to lower my body heat.

"Alright, we need to get you in the shower." I say, clapping my hands lightly as a loud yawn leaves my mouth. Harry looks up at me from the floor and then glances behind me at the shower. I nod my head as I see the wheels turning in his brain. "You heard me correctly, in the shower." I repeat.

I take Harry's hands in mine and slowly help him to his feet.

His balance is wavering and he's practically holding onto me for dear life. My anxiety rises at the thought of leaving Harry alone in the shower. He could slip, fall, and knock his head against any marble or glass surface in the shower. I'm also not about to climb willingly in the shower with Harry, even if he is incredibly ill.

"I don't think I can shower." He pouts, his arm securely around my shoulders as mine holds his waist tightly. I bite my lip and nod my head, thinking of any plausible option, none of which seeming fit for this moment. I mean I could always give Louis a ring, but let's face it; it's three in the morning on a Sunday he's probably not feeling too hot himself.

Just get in the shower with him, Shay. You can wear a swimsuit if you're not comfortable. But he's your boyfriend and you've been together for almost four months.

My mind wavers the idea of showering with Harry and I find myself leaning more towards doing it. But there's something so intimate about showering together that even I can't get the nerves in my belly to subside.

"I'm going to help you." I say slowly, my voice soft and probably clearly nervous.

"Shay, you don't have to." Harry says. I can feel his eyes on me as I stare at the shower before us. "You're not ready for something like that."

"But I am." I decide for myself in a matter of seconds that I am ready for this step in our relationship.

I'm ready for Harry to see me, all of me. I care about his opinion on me, but I know that I have nothing to worry about with him. Plus, it's not like he would ever take things too far and it's also not like he can really do anything in his state.

"We're doing this... together."

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