In My Arms

He didn’t wake up until close to eleven am. Lizzie was naked beside him, sprawled out on her stomach, and her hair was tied at the top of her head in a messy bun. Her face was partially obscured by her arm, but he could see she still had on all her eye makeup and mascara.The events of the previous night were still foggy in his mind; he remembered drinking and dancing and laughing and her being amazing—mostly he remembered her. Anna had been right: a Hollywood party was a different kind of crazy.

Rolling to his side, he traced his fingertip across a song lyric tattoo on the center of her back: but the fighter still remains. She stirred, opening one blue eye to look at him.“Hazza.”

“What I remember of last night was amazing.”

“As I was completely sober, due to my current knocked up status, I can assure you that it was mind blowing amazing.A certain highlight was you laying on your back in the front yard, singing a mega mix of ‘Story of my Life,’ ‘Stairway to Heaven’ and ‘Naughty Girl.’” She giggled, running her fingers through his hair.“Then you proceeded to promise me that you’d be my naughty girl all night long.”

He touched his forehead to hers and kissed the tip of her nose.“Was I?”

“Mmmm…yes. You were insatiable last night. Even after you’d finished, I couldn’t keep your face out from between my thighs.”

“Sounds like a normal day ending in Y for us.”

She laughed and pushed him onto his back; she straddled him and sat up, trailing her fingertips across the birds tattooed on his chest. “I don’t want to tell my mom about the baby until after the ceremony. And when I say after the ceremony, I mean like, next week. We can keep it our secret. And Anna and Tom and Niall’s secret.”

“When you say ceremony, do you mean wedding ceremony or Academy Awards ceremony?”

“If that’s your idea of proposing, that’s pretty lousy.”

Harry laughed, trailing his finger down between her breasts to her belly button ring. He tugged on the hoop. “I’ve…ah…got some ideas. But I’m going to surprise you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. And I, uh, refuse to answer any more questions about it, no matter how much you torture me.”He touched her lower abdomen, sliding his fingers from one hip bone to the other. “I still can’t believe there’s a baby in there. You’re still so little.”

She positioned his hand right below her belly button.“It’s more like here. We’ll see if my gown fits tonight. I can tell my jeans are getting tight.”

“Six more months to go.”

“Yeah, right in the middle of your tour.” She sighed and looked away for a moment. “Do you, um, think they’ll let you come home? When the baby gets here, I mean.”

“Who, management? Yeah, I don’t see why not.” Even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice. If Brent Lowe carefully manufactured and monitored Lizzie’s image, his management crafted his tenfold. Everything he did, every time he made a move that didn’t quite meet their ‘outline of things he should be doing’ he heard about it. They’d ranted for weeks when he skipped out on the press tour to be with Lizzie. He had to admit, certain concessions were made for him because she was Elizabeth Richards.The other guys weren’t so lucky. But this girl of his, this warm, wonderful, sweet, beautiful—he could rattle off a hundred adjectives that described her—woman of his owned Hollywood. She was the It girl. He’d seen it at the party the night before; how directors and producers fawned over her. She always got what she wanted: and it was clear to anyone with eyes, that she wanted was him.

He was a lucky guy. Damn lucky—he’d almost fucked it up, yet, she came back to him.

The only problem now was what management would do once they found out about the baby.That’s not what One Direction’s Harry Styles would do, they’d say. You two are supposed to have a platonic, public relationship, they’d say, and never be caught in delicate situations. This no doubt qualified as a delicate situation. He smiled at her, reaching up to cradle her face in his hands. “It’ll be fine, love.I’ll work something out.”

She cupped her hand over his and closed her eyes, sighing deeply. “What do you say we just stay in tonight? Skip the ceremony. Stay naked. You can watch that dirty video you taped of us last night on your phone. I’m not going to win, anyway.”

“You have to go. It’s the Academy Awards.”

“Aaaaaaaand so?I’ve been there. I’ve won before.I’ve got an award for each hand already for ‘Abducted,’ so, really, I’m good.” She wrinkled up her nose. “Speaking of which, what are we going to do with all our awards? Yours, mine; we could dedicate a whole room to the Awards and assorted memorabilia of Harry Styles and Elizabeth Richards.”

“Elizabeth Richards, soon to be Styles.” He corrected. He paused, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. “Wait, what dirty movie?”

She shrugged, crawling off of him and fetching her phone from the bedside table. “You’d have to check your phone and see. I’ll be right back, I need to call Kate and see what time she’s getting here to do my hair. Is Lou coming here to do yours?”

“I can do my own hair, snotty girl.” He swatted at her behind and, in the same swing, grabbed his phone from the table. He flipped through the pictures of him and Lizzie from the night before—he stopped and laughed at a shaky picture of their shoes, his tight black and white striped pants and black boots toe to toe with her sparkly stilettos and bare, gorgeous legs. He promptly posted it on Twitter with the caption This girl.

Then he found the video. She was laying on her back, naked, with her arms crossed over her breasts. When the video started, she was laughing and turning her face from the camera. He heard his own voice, slurred and rambling, “Let’s ask this pretty little girl right here, excuse me, Miss, can I have your opinion on Harry Styles. Harry Styles of One Direction, Miss, perhaps you’ve heard of him? He had floppish hair on the X-Factor when he was sixteen.”

“Floppish?” She giggled. “Um, Harry Styles? Yeah…he’s hot.”

“And would you have sex with Harry Styles?”

She pushed him away, still laughing. “Yes, I definitely would.”

“Who was the last person you had sex with?”

“Harry Styles.”

“I’m shocked!” the phone wobbled and then he saw his face, looking at the phone and straightening it, most likely against a picture frame on the bedside table. He watched himself stumbled back across the bed, crawling on top of her and pinning her arms over her head. “You still haven’t told me what you think about him. He’s a naughty little boy from Cheshire.”

“I’m madly in love with him.”

His response was to lean forward and kiss her, adjusting himself to better enter her. He watched, his mouth slightly open, as he made love to her on the camera; touching her and caressing her face. At one point, she rolled her head to the side and looked straight into the camera, biting her lip as she arched her back to him. “Are you taping this?”

“No?”

“Hazza!” she arched her back again and then shut her eyes.“Right there, right there, right there….”

The screen blackened as a telephone call came in. Louis.

Harry groaned, but picked up the phone. “Hey.”

“Harry?” Louis sounded panicked.“ I know tonight’s the awards and you’re busy with Liz, but we need to talk. It’s Zayn.”

####

Elizabeth would have been perfectly happy to skip the red carpet before the Oscars, but Brent was there and insisted she and Harry do ‘the walk’ since the world would be watching. Her dress still fit—but only barely. She could see the gentle swell of her lower abdomen, a swell that had never been there in her entire life, thanks to drugs—and then thanks to a workout and eating regimen that kept her gorgeous and a size zero. Harry was speechless when he first saw her and, when she questioned him on how she looked, he simply kissed her in response.

She glanced at him. His stylist had dressed him in a sexy, dark gray three piece suit. She’d never seen him in such loose fitting pants, but he was mind numbingly handsome. His hair was down and curling gently, thanks to the LA humidity, and his fingers were heavy with silver rings. He cradled her hand like she was made out of rice paper and about to crumble at any minute, but when he looked at her, his face lit up.

It didn’t matter how long they were together: that dimpled smile, the broad grin he saved just for her, made her stomach erupt into butterflies. Since the moment they’d met, that smile made her melt.

The carpet was alive with photographers and cameramen, filming the dirge-like procession into the Dolby Theater. Harry kept his fingers laced around hers, tight and supportive like a corset, and their legs brushed against each other as they walked. It was a turn on. Even now, even pregnant with his baby, his tall, broad shouldered stature made her heart pound in her chest.

Harry looked at her and smiled broadly. Flashbulbs around them lit up as a million photogs captured their private looks to each other on film. “You look stunning tonight, love. Louis already texted me that he hates me because you’re mine.”

“Haters gonna hate.” She giggled.

Harry pressed his lips to hers and smiled again. The camera flashes lit up the red carpet, the cameramen calling them to look at their camera, to pose for their camera. She knew they were the focus of the paparazzi prowling, of the constant stalking and chasing. Harry and Liz: the couple above all other couples. The prince and princess of the music industry and Hollywood. She momentarily wondered what their “power couple” rating would be, since things of SUCH importance were rated all the time.

Ryan Seacrest was at their elbow before they were even halfway to the Dolby Theater. “Do you two mind an interview together? I know you’re usually not comfortable with this, but, you know. The Oscars.”

She exchanged a look with Harry. He shrugged.

“Okay.” It seemed like a poor decision, but she heard herself saying the words anyway. Great. “Just nothing insanely personal, okay?”

“Not a problem. Just the standard Oscar run down, kiddo.” Ryan pointed to the camera and quietly counted them down. “…Four…three…two…This is Ryan Seacrest, down on the red carpet with Best Actress nominee—and former winner—Elizabeth Richards and the boyfriend who needs no introduction, Harry Styles. Liz, are you excited for a potential second night at the podium? Or is this just the same old, same old since you’ve already won a SAG and the Golden Globe?”

“Nervous, as always. Seriously, it could be the award for first person on set and I’d still be a nervous wreck.” She grinned at Harry. “At least this kid keeps me sane.”

“Harry, how do you feel about tonight?” Ryan shoved the mic in his face. “Do you think she’ll win or do you think Anna will beat her this time?”

Harry draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.“This girl is ‘the best’ of everything to me.”

“Do you think she’ll win?”

“Of course.” Harry looked down at her and smiled. “She’s amazing in everything she does.”

“I saw a poll online that named you the top couple of last year, beating out Prince William and Kate, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, and even Tom Hiddleston and your fellow nominee Anna Blessing.” Ryan flicked the mic back to her mouth. “How do you guys feel about that?You moved in together, right?”

“That’s, uh, kind of weird.” Lizzie smoothed down the front of her gown, mentally trying to hide her baby bump. “I mean, we’re just us. We’ve lived together for a while, but now we’ve made it all ‘official’ I guess and have all his stuff at our place. We didn’t give it a huge amount of thought or sit down and have this serious conversation, we just did it. All we really want is to be together, just being us, and dull when we're not working. You know, sitting around avoiding anything that takes effort. Ordering pizza and tweeting on Twitter so we aren't marked completely antisocial.”

“Are you guys happy?”

They nodded simultaneously. “Life just keeps getting better and better.” Harry said, sliding his hand to her waist. “I love seeing what the next day with her brings.”

Elizabeth looked at him, staring into his beautiful green eyes. God, she loved him. He was everything to her: best friend, lover, baby daddy. She couldn’t imagine life without him.

####

The Oscar ceremony was the longest, most drawn out ceremony Harry had ever sat through. Eventually, he started sending dirty texts to Lizzie, rhyming parts of her body and making dirty limericks. The best actress award wasn’t until the very end of the night. Even Lizzie looked bored—and these were her friends.

He sent her a text, despite the fact he was sitting right next to her: That Joseph Gordon Levitt kid is undressing you with his eyes.

She elbowed him, texting back: We dated. He’s just jealous that I’m yours and not his. We only slept together a couple times—I dumped him for Chris. I know, I know, if I was slutty at any point in my career, it was at that point. I’ll confess.

As long as you’re mine, that’s all that matters.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek, sending the text: I’ll always be yours, Hazza.

He slid his hand to her knee and squeezed it, then laced his fingers around hers. He was so madly in love with her. He’d read some of the media about their appearance at the party the night before and, surprisingly, it was positive. It seemed like all his “Harry girls” had mellowed out about his relationship with Lizzie. There was still hate of course, but most fans seemed okay with them. The headlines weren’t bad, either: “Harry Styles and Elizabeth Richards burn up the red carpet!” “A-list 1D hottie Harry Styles and glamor girl Elizabeth Richards: happier than ever!” and, the surprisingly on par, “So in love: Will Harry pop the question to Liz soon?”

If only they knew.

####

Elizabeth’s foot was bouncing up and down, her nerves jolting through her body into the tips of her toes. This was it. In the end, it didn’t really matter to her all that much if she won or lost, but just being up for the award was nerve wracking. It was less worrisome to debate if Harry was actually going to propose someday—and that, of course, was still terrifying, no matter how many times he said he loved her. For now, though, Hollywood’s eyes were on her, right now, and it was nauseating. Or, maybe being pregnant was making her feel nauseous. Either way, she wanted to get up and run for the door. This wouldn’t make or break her career, but still—she didn’t want to be the girl who won the SAG, the Golden Globe, and Harry Styles, but lost the Oscar.

And then it was time.

She smiled appropriately when they listed her name as a nominee, and then forced Harry to look at her. “I’m scared.I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He smiled, touching his hand to her cheek. “I’m proud of you no matter what, love.”

“I talk a big game, but this scares the shit out of me.”

There was no time for him to answer; the envelope was being opened.

####

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…”

Harry felt like he was holding his breath. He glanced at Lizzie, she was staring down at their interlocked hands, “Elizabeth Richards.”

Her eyes widened and she immediately turned to him, smiling that dazzling smile, and pressed her lips to his. Right there, in front of all of Hollywood and every single person watching them, he grazed his tongue against hers. He smiled at her as he pulled back.“I told you.”

She stood up and walked to the front of the theater, her gorgeous figure enhanced by the clingy gold gown—Stella McCartney was truly a master—and slowly climbed the stairs. He could feel tears pricking the back of his eyes. He was so proud of her. This is what she’d strived for; she’d worked her ass off and managed to campaign for her Oscar, film her new movie, and be with him all at the same time. He was her biggest fan. He didn’t deserve a girl like this and yet, she wanted nothing more than to be with him.

He could barely concentrate on her acceptance speech, mesmerized by how gorgeous she looked standing there, holding onto the statuette, and shyly rambling off the people she knew she had to thank. He loved their little secret; he loved her. And then, he saw her look directly at him.

“And last, but never, ever least, to the man I love more than anything: Harry. I’m still wearing the smile you gave me. All the words I can think of or things to say wouldn’t adequately describe how much I love you, so I’m stealing from Charlotte Bronte, because you know I’m a vintage kind of girl.‘I have for the first time found what I can truly love.I have found you.’”

Tears spilled over his cheeks. This girl, God, he was so in love with her. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with her…

…But something was about to happen; something that made him worry things were going to change forever.

Notes

So, I revised this based on what happened yesterday. PLEASE let me know what you think!!!!