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.*

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13. ✗ twelve ✗

SHAY

12 May

"Home sweet home." I breathe out, stepping through the threshold of Harry's home with him in tote. Though everything in my life changed, I'm glad that this is constant. His home is a constant. I came here before everything happened and I'm still coming here during. I can't say what the future is to hold, but I can only assume this house will still play a role.

Harry has been oddly quiet since I woke up this morning. The doctors said I could go home last night, but thought it'd be best to keep me overnight, just to make sure that I was truly okay. I know they aren't saying it aloud but they want to check my mental health. I don't know why doctors just don't say that flat out, they'd get a lot farther in life if you ask me.

As for my mental health you ask? Well, it never really repaired since the first shock of my story and it's only continuing to get worse. My mind will be fine one day, but far from grand the next. I'm always in a state of depression, some days worse than others. Today has been a relatively good day. Yes, I still have the lingering issue of pregnancy that keep creeping it's way into my mind, making me feel ill, but even that isn't bothering me too much. I can't explain it.

But back to Harry... since the moment I opened my eyes to the sun shining in through the curtains in my room Harry has been incredibly distant.

When asked a question he'd answer just like normal, but when it comes to those times in between, he says nothing. I know it has to do with the news that was so horribly thrust upon me last night and I won't say I'm okay with it either, yet. I have less than five weeks to make a final decision as to whether I'm going to keep the baby or not. I suppose it's then near after Dr. Surrey sprung that news when Harry got quiet.

I'm not saying that I'm comfortable with the situation, no one in their right mind would be, but I'm not a sobbing mess like I thought I would be. Harry's presence alone is keeping me from acting out or doing something I'll regret. I have a lot to think about in the next five weeks. My choices will shape how I live the rest of my life.

When I found out I immediately wanted to do one thing, but now I want to do the other, and there's a possibility of my mind changing again. I just need time to think.

"It's odd that I'm calling your house my home." I admit, trying to spark somewhat of a conversation with Harry. I should still be heartbroken, but right now all I can worry about is the silent man following me in the door. He's never silent, and that's why I should worry.

"Yeah." I nod my head, taking the silent hint for me to stop talking.

I know the impact of the news on me, but I have no idea in hell what Harry is thinking. He promised me he was going to be with me through this, that doesn't mean he doesn't have his two cents to pitch in. He has absolutely nothing to do with whatever decision I make, but I feel as if he does. I feel as if I need his input in order to do what is right.

I drop my bag down on the floor and kick my shoes off to the side of the foyer so they aren't in the way. The house is silent as we stand still in the entryway. Harry simply closes the door and leans back against it, resting his eyes. I, on the other hand, am staring up at my boss and friend with concern in me. He looks exhausted to say the least.

"What are you staring at?" Though his eyes are closed somehow he knows I'm looking at him.

"I'm worried about you. Harry, you look exhausted." I point out. There are dark bags underneath his eyes and he can go no longer than five minutes without a yawn escaping. He needs sleep. He opens his eyes, looking down at me with a small smile on his lips.

"Shouldn't I be the one worried about you?" I shrug. With a grunt, he pushes himself from the door and walks further into the house with me trailing behind. "You seem oddly, calm, if I may say. I'm not complaining, just concerned." I lick my dry lips and enter the kitchen, taking a bottle of water that Harry was extending to me.

"I don't know; the mind is a weird thing." I hop onto one of the bar stools and lean against the countertop. "I should be a hysterical mess and part of me really wants to if I'm being honest. There's part of me that wants to crawl into bed and just cry, but I also don't want to move backwards. If I go back to how I was before I wouldn't like it. I see now how you saw me those three weeks and I'm ashamed."

"Shay-"

"No, Harry, I am and there's nothing for you to apologize for. I should be the one apologizing." I don't know what came over me this morning, it could be the sneaky visit from the hospital psychiatrist or the meditation she had me practice whilst Harry was getting breakfast, but I feel better, mentally. "And you're right, you should be concerned why I'm acting like this." Worry immediately etches across Harry's features as he approaches me.

"You're not bottling everything up inside like you did the last time, are you?" I can't help but chuckle lightly.

"No, I'm not going to do that again. From now on I propose a no secret household." Harry raises his eyebrows at me and a small smirk forms on his tired lips. "I, Shay Nichols, promise to speak the truth from my mind, no matter how harsh." Harry laughs and nods his head.

"Okay, I, Harry Styles CEO," I roll my eyes, shaking my head at him, beginning to wonder why I even tolerate him, "promise to speak the truth from my mind, no matter how harsh." I raise my hand above the surface of the island and outstretch it for Harry. He follows in suit, shaking my hand and keeping ahold of it. "Shall we start now?"

"Why not?" I say, leaning back in the chair and opening the water bottle. "You first."

"No, you."

"Okay, when am I going to return back to my apartment?" I wonder. We've spoken about how long he expects me to stay, but I'm running low on clothing items. I'm beginning to wear sweatpants and t-shirts all day, everyday.

"Honestly?" I nod my head, that's the deal. "Hopefully, never." I quirk my eyebrow upward; I can only imagine what he's getting at. "This is going to sound incredibly unprofessional and maybe a bit crazy, but I don't want you going back to that apartment. There's too many bad memories there, plus a very large vodka stain on your carpet, which also probably ruined the paint on your wall too. It's also too far away and if anything happens to you I'd never forgive myself. That being said, I think you should move in with me."

"What?"

"You heard me. I think you should move in with me. Actually, I don't think, I know."

"Do I get a say in the matter?" I ask, a small smile tugging on my lips. I know that we've only become "friends" about a week ago, but I have known Harry for almost four years of my life. And I'm basically living with him already.

"Nope." Harry smiles a dimpled grin and raises his eyebrows.

"Okay."

"Okay?" He asks, a bit shocked.

"Well, your home is very nice and my apartment is quaint, but not nearly as lovely as this place. You don't expect me to pay rent," I pause, waiting for a confirmation to which he shakes his head, "so it's already cheaper than my place. There's plenty of space here for the two of us and for a... a..." Once again, I can't get the word out.

"Does that mean you're going to keep the baby?" Harry says. His tone is almost hopeful. I sigh heavily, dropping my head onto the countertop. Why does everything in life have to be so hard?

"I don't know, okay? I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I'm beginning to stress over what decision I should make and I don't want to make the wrong one. I think I need at least a week to think it over, at least." Probably more like five weeks. "But, depending on which decision I make the house will still be big enough. I do think that you should maybe let me have a guest room and you take your room back."

"You know, I'm getting oddly attached the room I'm in now." There's a smirk on Harry's lips and his words are truthful. I'm not complaining though, I'll get to continue to sleep in a plush bed with soft duvets and many, many pillows. "Alright, my turn?"

"Yes, that's the deal."

"I'm just exhausted, mentally and physically drained." The small smile on my lips has now disappeared and I'm staring up at the man feeling more and more guilty. "I think we should just go to bed." My jaw drops slightly as I shake my head.

"You can't be serious." I state, but he just nods. "Alright, fine, if we're being honest than I don't think you're telling me all your feelings right now." Boom: take that Harry.

"Okay fine, I'm tired and stressed and overthinking everything right now. I can't go ten minutes without checking in with you because I care too much. That being said, every night you've been here I've peeked in your room at least once to make sure you're still here." Oddly nice to know. "I enjoy laughing and smiling with you, it's one of the only things that brightens my day." Holy- "When the doctor said you were pregnant I vowed then and there that I was not going anywhere." And here come the tears. "I actually don't mind that the doctor thinks I'm your fiancé." Wow, where is this going? The tears in my eyes are building with every confession he's giving me. It's also making my mouth very dry so I bring my water up to my lips. "And I want you to keep the baby!"

I spit the water out of my mouth, allowing the droplets to spray across the pristine countertop. I cough a bit before straightening up and staring with my jaw dropped up at Harry. He stares back at me, his chest rising and falling as if that was the hardest thing he ever has to say.

"You what?" I breathe out, wondering if I've even heard him correctly.

"I think you should keep the baby." I take my shaking hands off the countertop and place them against my stomach. "I know you just found out less than twenty-four hours ago, but I can't watch you go through with something that you will regret. It's going to be hard, I know, to raise a child and also to know how that child came to be, but can't we look at it in a positive light. Babies are a joy and they deserve to be taken care of in a stable household, which we sort of have, and-"

"Harry!" I yell, hopping off the bar stool, my hands still resting on my stomach. "Slow down!" Now the tears are falling again. I've gone all of twenty hours without crying and I'm breaking that streak now. "This is a lot for me to think about. I just need time to think, as I said before." I slowly say, my heart beating erratically in my chest. "And where is all this we coming from? Huh?" I shout, growing slightly angry for no reason. "You have nothing to do with this!"

I spin around on my heels and patter towards the staircase, letting the tears flow heavily. Harry calls after me, his voice growing in distance as I climb the steps.

"I didn't mean to upset you, I'm sorry. God, I'm a dick." He curses, surprising me. I've only heard Harry curse maybe once or twice in all of our years of knowing each other. He isn't one for swear words. "I realize that I just put a lot of pressure on you and that was not what I was trying to do. I'm so, so sorry Shay." He pleads with me. "Forget I said anything."

"Harry," I utter at the doorway of his bedroom, "give me some space." I warn, grasping the door. His face has fallen completely. He looks like a lost puppy dog, giving me those big eyes and, I think, a quivering bottom lip. No matter how pitiful he looks, I still need space to think. "Goodnight." And with that, I shut the door in his face.

&&&

I woke irritable with myself at two in the morning all thanks to the same haunting nightmare that is making a comeback. I haven't relived that nightmare for a good four days, and now it's back full force. I find it hard to breathe from the choking sobs that are leaving my lips and as fatigued as I am that nightmare has frightened me awake to no extent.

I sit up in bed, flipping on the dim lamp beside the bed and grab the water bottle; slowly I bring the thing up to my lips and take a big gulp, swallowing down some tears with the clean water. The nightmare only gets worse from how it last was.

This time when the man had morphed, it was into the man sleeping in the room above mine. Everything felt so real about it; it even felt like Harry's hands on my body. But just as I was about to wake, the man morphed back, saying that he was everywhere and could find me anywhere. I shiver at the thought of him coming back. I look to the windows and the balcony door, ensuring that it was still locked tightly. A sigh leaves my lips at the sight of it still being locked.

With a deep breath, I gather myself from bed and shut the lamp off. I don't know what I'm thinking in the moment, but I don't want to be alone. I exit the room and start up the stairs to the second floor. Surely, after the nightmare I just had it would make more sense to go downstairs, have a cuppa, and watch some reruns on the telly. I said it would make more sense, not that I'm going to follow through with it.

Climbing the last step I come to the first closed door, placing a gentle knock upon the door. I know that he has to be asleep so he probably doesn't hear me, but I enter anyway. The light from the hallway shines into the dark room, showcasing a sleeping Harry. He's curled up on his side, hugging a pillow to his chest with soft snores escaping his parted mouth. His hair is pulled up in a bun at the back of his head and the duvet is pulled up only to his waist. I gulp heavily seeing as he's shirtless, showing off his many tattoos.

I never knew how many tattoos Harry had until now. I can see a few on his wrists every time he raises a hand or something and his shirt would slid down a little and I can sometimes see the traces of ink from underneath his shirts, but I can never see the entire canvas... until now... well I can only see a little of the canvas since there's a pillow hugged to his chest.

Stop staring and do something. You're too tired for this so it's either waking him up or go back to your room.

"Harry." I say, my voice sounding oddly loud in the pure silence of the night. He doesn't stir, just heavily breathed once. "Harry." I repeat, stepping further into the room so I'm not standing in his doorway. Again, he doesn't move. I curse myself as my mind screams just to go back downstairs. This is so stupid. I'm acting like a child. And this is wrong. We are friends, yes, but he's also my boss. "Harry." I whine out, a little louder this time to wake him. He stirs this time, moaning lowly and clutching tighter onto the pillow before him. "Harry, wake up."

"What?" He mutters, before his eyes fly open and he sits up right away. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you sick?" He rapid-fire questions, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Now I feel even more like a dick, especially since we fought the last time we saw each other.

"God," I breathe out, feeling guilty, "you know what, I'm sorry, never mind. Go back to bed." I turn on my heels and make my way to the escape.

"Wait, no! Come back here." Harry orders lightly, his voice heavy with sleep. I spin around slowly to look at him and bite down on my lip. "What's wrong?" You better tell him or he'll keep bugging you. Harry stares back at me in worry, his chest raising and falling from me waking him so suddenly.

"I just had a..." damnit, "nightmare."

"Oh."

"You know what? I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry I woke you."

"No." Harry says again, looking around the dimly lit room for a moment. I freeze in the doorway, gripping harshly on the door handle. I cannot have made this more awkward if I tried. "Um, what should I, um, what do you want me to do?" He asks, nervously as I stand statue. I bite my lip and look around the room. There isn't as much room in here as his actual bedroom, but there is some space on the floor.

"I didn't want to be alone and I thought maybe I could sleep on your floor." I say, mentally slapping myself for the worst excuse in the book.

"Sleep on my floor?" I nod slowly. "No way." Whelp, time for bed, retreat... retreat... retreat! "You're pregnant, you're not sleeping on the floor." Oh...

"Harry, it's fine. I've slept on the floor before whilst being, well you know." I swallow harshly, when am I finally going to be able to admit out loud that I'm in fact pregnant?

"Come on." Harry begins to stand and I gasp before diverting my eyes. My hand comes up and covers my eyes as I try to hide the small smile on my lips. "Right, pants." He breathes out. I nod my head, thanking the lord the lights are off or my blush will have been seen for miles. Thankfully, he's been wearing briefs. Unfortunately, they don't leave much to the imagination. Not that I'm imagining anything. "You can look now." Harry mumbles. I drop my hand and look over at him. He's slid some shorts on over the briefs but left his shirt off.

"What are you doing?" I ask as he begins ripping pillows off his bed and then the duvet.

"I'm going to sleep in your room." I clamp my mouth shut and silently lead Harry down to where I'm staying. I shake the guilt out of my head and enter the room, climbing into bed and pulling the duvet over my lap. Harry enters and drops the stuff onto the floor.

"I can sleep on the-"

"Nope."

"But, I can-"

"Shay, I said no." I clamp my mouth shut again and roll my eyes at his stubbornness. Without another word I sink down in bed, pulling the covers higher up so they're just above my shoulders. The room falls into perfect silence once we're both settled, the only noise is our breathing. I'm still very tired, but I can't help but just stare up at the ceiling in pitch-black darkness. I somehow feel odd knowing he's in the same room with me, trying to sleep. I also feel odd that he's going to have to sleep on the hard floor, which, trust me, is not very comfortable.

My mind is spitting out options for this situation, somehow looking to improve it for both of our sakes.

Perhaps we could move down to the living room and sleep on the couches, but alas Harry would shoot that out of the sky as well for the sake of me. Or I could wait until he's asleep and then move to the ground beside my bed, just to prove a point. But that wouldn't get us anywhere. Maybe we could stay up the rest of the night and watch movies, but that would make me feel even worse for the exhausted person on my carpet and for me, I need sleep. I could tell Harry to go back to his room, but that would result in me being alone again. Or maybe Harry could... oh God no that's inappropriate!

I cough loudly at the thought, the saliva in my mouth getting sucked into my throat at just the thought of what my mind is going to suggest. It's the best option, but totally not going to happen.

"You okay?" His voice is low and raspy from his place at the end of the bed. I harshly turn on my side, facing the doors of the balcony.

"Yep." I breathe out, hitting the mattress beside me slightly. "Harry?" He hums out in response, clearly trying to fight off sleep. Say it before you regret it. "Just get in this bed with me." I order, my lack of sleep making me cut straight to the chase and with a bit of an attitude.

"What?" This time it's him to cough in surprise. I mean the order alone sent me into a shock and I'm the one who said it.

"I said, get in this bed." I repeat slowly, making sure he hears every word. "I hate that you're sleeping on the floor and since you won't let me sleep on the floor, this is the next best option. So, I'm not going to say it again, get in the bed; or so help me God I will find my way onto the floor." It takes a couple seconds for what I'm saying to register, but after I bit I hear him shuffle and can barely see the outline of him walk over to the bed.

"Only because I'm exhausted."

"Only because I'm freaked out."

"Only because the floor is too uncomfortable."

"I told you so, and only because I don't want to be alone." I clarify with a hint of a grin on my lips, though in the darkness you can't see it. Harry pulls back the duvet and slides into bed beside me. The mattress is definitely big enough for two; that being said, there's about a foot in between our bodies. He pulls the covers back up and lies on his side, facing me. "Goodnight." I whisper, allowing my eyes to finally fall shut.

"Night." 

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