* THE NEXT MORNING *
“Good morning, precious. Sleep alright? Your snoring kept me awake if I must say,” he teased, an arm thrown across your hip with his palm flat against your t-shirt covered belly. His ring less fingers splayed out spaciously against the material covering your upper half. The sunlight was peeking through the curtains of the bedroom, and where the little window was left open through the night, the thin material was blowing in the soft winds blowing through the gap of the frames; sounds like tweeting birds and driving cars catching within the air and being filtered through to the quiet bedroom. Your breathing and Harry’s soft sniffles and grunts to clear his throat melding together. “What do you say we give your mum and dad a call? Tell them the news. And we can see how they’re holiday up north is going. I bet Scotland’s freezing.”
A soft giggle left your lips as you rolled over and laid flat on your back, propping a knee up with a foot pressed to the cotton-sheet covered mattress beneath the two of you. “Mum’s always been a fan of the cold though. She always says it’s an excuse to cuddle more and dress warmly,” you reasoned, turning your face to Harry as he puffed out a heavy breath. His morning breath and the smell of his lingering cologne was enough to make your belly churn and cheeks go green. “Please go brush your teeth? Or at least chew some gum. Your breath smells so bad,” you grumbled, turning your face away from him.
“Sorry, love. I forgot. Do you want to go to the bathroom? I’ll go and kick Gemma out if you need me too,” Harry grinned, hooking his hand underneath your t-shirt and hitching it up with his wrist, your belly becoming visible beneath the duvet. “How are we both feeling this morning? Do you want me to go get some breakfast? Saves you having to get up,” he suggested, as he absentmindedly drew soft patterns with his forefinger onto your flushed skin.
“I’m capable of getting up and getting food myself, Harold. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I’m immobile to do anything,” you started, pressing your elbows into the mattress and pushing yourself up from the sheets. “How about I go and get breakfast and you stay in here and be lazy? Like you usually are at home?” You teased.
When it came to mornings back in London, he was usually the one who was in bed the longest – especially on his days off – and you were the one most known to be in the kitchen before Harry to make breakfast or to make him a mug of tea that would keep him going for the rest of the day. But you weren’t too bothered about letting him have a lay-in. It just meant he got the full amount of rest he deserved without the crankiness of being woken up to endure the day’s activities – it just meant that when he was fully awake and missing your comfort beside him, he would wander in the kitchen dressed in his boxers and an old t-shirt with matted, in-need-of-a-wash and greasy hair hanging limply down the sides of his face and stopping just below his chin.
“Maybe I want to go and make my missus some breakfast, with the help of my mother, so that said missus can have some time with her parents on the phone without her husband getting in the way,” he grinned, nudging his nose into your upper arm and puckering his lips to press a wet and moist kiss to your skin. “I can hear the clanging of pans and the kettle whistling, so, how about I go down and get some breakfast for you and I leave you with my Mac so you can skype them,” he suggested, looking over the edge of the bed where he placed his Mac laptop to charge overnight.
“That sounds great actually. You know, people think you’re a goof when it comes to smart ideas but you’ve really got some good ideas in that pretty little mind of yours,” you grinned, resting your head on top of his as he pressed his forehead against your upper arm and left his lips lingering on your skin. “I love you, you know that?”
“I’d bloody hope so. Otherwise we have a bit of problem with this marriage and baby thing going on,” he teased, earning himself a nudge in the side of the ribs.
“I’m being serious, arsehole. God,” you giggled, falling back onto your pillow and letting out a heavy sigh. “I’m really serious. Like, I never thought I’d be married and pregnant with a baby by this year. It’s 2018 and I’m the happiest woman to walk the planet. I married my best friend, I got knocked up by my best friend, and I get to spend the rest of my life with the one guy who brings happiness to me on a daily basis,” you simply stated, love filling the tone of your voice as you laced your fingers through Harry’s and smiled as he brought your joined hands to his lips. “I’m so lucky, and I have girls falling at my feet begging to swap lives with them, and it just makes me feel really special that you chose me out of everyone in the world. There are so many people out there that you could have a little infinity with, and yet, you chose a simple small town girl who you bumped into in the coffee shop one rainy London morning. How does that even work?” You gushed, as he hitched a leg over yours and let his cold toes tickle at your calf muscles, letting a giggle escape your lips.
“How does it work? Simple. You bumped into me, knocked your coffee over my boots, offered to buy me more boots which ended up being slightly smaller, and that was the start of everything. You were so cute when you just kept apologising to me and it just sort of kicked into my mind that you were one I needed to cherish,” Harry smiled, closing his eyes contently as you removed your fingers from his hold and used your forefinger to draw soft lines over his closest swallow tattoo. “I never told you this before, but, when I went home that night with your number on a piece of paper that was tucked deep into my coat pocket, my mum was the first one to be called. And she just let me ramble on about how pretty you were and how we clicked and like, she knew even back then, that you were going to be someone close to me. We just couldn’t pinpoint how close you were going to be and what you were in relations to me,” he added, his voice cracking slightly as he let out a soft and stifled yawn.
“I never really thought of myself as Harry Styles’ girlfriend, you know that? When people would ask me questions like what’s it like dating the Harry Styles from One Direction, Isort of just never knew how to answer them. You weren’t that famous guy from a band to me. You were a down to earth, loving, kind and cheeky guy that swept me off my feet after the first date,” you grinned, tilting your head up to look at him, to find his green orbs already staring down at you. “My mum always got an earful when we spoke, even after our dates and stuff. You were always a topic of conversation when it came to me and my mum and my dad would always find it difficult to speak because he never knew what to say,” you giggled softly, pressing your lips to his chin. “I always knew back then that my dad liked you. He adjusted to your differently and he was always fond of you coming over for family meals or family reunions, as if he wanted to show you off. It wasn’t a show you off because a celebrity is dating my daughter kind of way, it was a show off where he showed people how amazing he thought you were and how thrilled he was that I’d found someone like you to have in my life. That was sort of when I realised I needed to keep you around,” you mumbled, patting your fingertips to his chest.
A silence washed over you both as you continued to lay in silence, soft touches being exchanged between you both as you listened to the sounds of the clattering of pans from the kitchen and grumbles and mumbles being heard through the floor.
“Shall I go down and see what’s happening? I think my mum will get frustrated soon,” Harry laughed, swinging the corner of the cotton duvet off of his body and letting the cold air of the room hit at his bare skin. “Shit, that’s cold. Remind me to shut the window before we go to bed tonight,” he mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed as he reached his foot out for his grey cotton pyjama trousers, curling his toes around the soft material and bringing it closer to him as he brought them to his hands. “What do you fancy? I’m going to guess my mum will go full out and make pretty much every breakfast delicacy going,” he teased, pulling his pyjama trousers up his legs and letting them settle at his knees, abruptly stopping when he felt your hand cup his hip and slide into the waistband of his white boxers. “What are you doing, cheeky?”
“I’m not doing anything. You forgot my morning kiss so I was going to pull you back to bed by your boxers, but, I don’t think that’s going to work now, do you?” You mumbled, tugging at the waistband and smirking when he playfully fell back against your chest and turned his head to look at you, a disgruntled contortion on your face. “Bad idea. Bad idea. Sore boobs, H. Sore boobs,” you muttered, pushing at his shoulder. “Get off my boobs. Before I punch you in the dick,” you hissed.
And with that, he was up and standing to his feet. Tugging the grey material up his legs and letting the waistband ping against his stomach.
“Bring a bit of everything up, please. Baby’s hungry,” you grinned, rubbing a hand over your bloated belly and giving yourself a soft pat beneath your naval. “Baby wants daddy to get mummy breakfast,” you cooed, sending him a blushing smile as he hovered over your duvet covered belly and pressed his forehead to the cotton material.
“Daddy’s getting food. I promise. You’ll just have to wait a few minutes,” he muffled into the duvet, before lifting his head up. “I’ll be back in a minute. Give me a shout if you need me. Log onto Skype and have a chat with your mum. I’ll be back soon,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your pink lips in a haste pace.
“Your morning breath is still smelly, Harold.”
* *
As he jogged down the stairs and stepped foot on the polished wooden floor of the hallway, he grabbed at the hairband that was tight around his wrist and preceded to pull his hair back into a bun to keep the strands from tickling at his chin. His feet still carrying him into the kitchen where he could hear the muffled chatter of his mother and Robin being carried out, clinks of spoons hitting mugs and sizzling of bacon in the pan finding it’s ways to his ears. As the bare pads of his feet touched the tiled floor, a shiver went up his spine and he visibly shivered which had caused Robin to chuckle, which in turn made his mother swing around on her heel.
“Oh, good morning, sweetheart. You’re looking happy this morning,” Anne smiled, flipping the slices of bacon over in the pan and letting the other side cook over the heat, spits and sizzles being heard as the oil spat at her apron. “Did you sleep okay? How is (Y/N)? Was the bed comfy enough? Was there enough room? I hope the damp smell didn’t trigger her sickness,” she worried, looking to her amused son. “What’s so funny? Oh, dear. Did I dream about yesterday? There is no pregnancy, is there?”
“Mum, just calm down. Everything is fine. We slept with the window open and that lingering damp smell was gone by the morning. Except we woke up with cold feet, but that’s not too much of a problem,” Harry smiled, shuffling across the tiles as he pulled his mother into a hug and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “(Y/N)’s great. She’s feeling a bit nauseous this morning but she slept fine and she’s upstairs on Skype to her mum and dad,” he added, grabbing two light blue mugs of tea and flicking the switch of the kettle on.
“You know; yesterday just seems so surreal. I can’t believe my little baby boy is having a baby of his own. You’re proper growing up now, aren’t you, hm? You’re not my little man anymore,” Anne sighed, lifting the pan of cooked bacon up and using her spatula to move it onto a plate that was sitting beside some pancakes and a couple of pieces of bread. “You’re making me feel old, Harry. You’re making me a grandmother.”
“Mum,” Harry started, as Robin stood from his chair at the kitchen island and gave his wife a soft rub to her arm, “I thought you were happy about this. You’ve always been going on about having grandkids and little new-borns to dote on when me and the missus need some time away,” Harry chuckled, turning on his head as he leant against the counter, his arms folded across his chest.
Even growing up, his mother would dote upon new-borns that weren’t even hers to dote upon. In the streets when she would see a baby in a pram, she would have to go over and make the baby giggle or smile or she would chat with the mother of the baby and just become friendly with those who were willing to be friendly back. When Gemma’s friend Chloe had given birth just a few years back, his mother was constantly excited when they would travel to go and see them – because it meant cuddles with a baby and it was when she could put the ideas of new-borns into her own children’s minds. Harry had grown up in a caring, loving family household and it was only traditional for that tradition to be passed on through when it came to her own children giving her the gift of being a grandmother.
The idea always seemed so surreal to Anne.
Her own children were growing up. Becoming adults. Experiencing the world in their own ways. Finding love and getting married. Finding their own dream jobs. And she knew that babies would be in the mix as soon as possible – she just didn’t think that with a blink of an eye that her youngest baby was soon to be a father himself, and the thought was enough to melt her heart with joy and with happiness that was building up.
“I’m more than happy, Harry. I’m more than happy for you. I’m so proud of you; for finding such a magnificent woman who loves you for you and who loves spending time with you and who just adores everything you do. We love her so much, mister. You’ve done us all proud, I’m telling you,” his mother smiled, placing the hot pan handle into Robin’s hands so he could take it over to the sink to wash up. She stood beside Harry, a smile on her lips as she took his hands in her own. “You’re going to be such an excellent daddy, Harry. And with (Y/N) by your side, I can tell that baby is going to grow up the right way,” she whispered, her eyes expressing her happiness as she caught contact with her sons.
“We’re both really proud of you, Harry. We really are. You’ve done everything you’ve dreamed of doing with a wonderful lady by your side,” Robin stated, setting the wet and freshly-washed pan on the draining board. “You just need to live life to the fullest and be the best husband and father possible. Don’t make mistakes and don’t let your wife go,” Robin added, as the kettle whistled behind Harry.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Rob. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
* *
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
The dial tone sounded around the bedroom as you shuffled in the bed, propping up the pillows so you could sit upright comfortably in order for a bad back to not come by the later hours of the day. The screen was still dark as you waited for your mother and father to answer to the Skype call – an account you’d set up one afternoon with the help of Harry because they were sometimes unavailable to travel to London to pop in for a mug of tea some afternoons when catch-ups were need; yet it was also an account that was made in the early days when you would travel to see Harry on tour and you were always in the mood for home calls when you missed your parents almost entirely enough to make you want to go home.
After waiting for seconds more, the screen turned bright white and the image of your mother and father sitting on a balcony in the Scottish countryside came into view. Smiles on their faces as they finished their mouthfuls of breakfast scones and tea, with waves being given.
“Sweetheart, hello! We weren’t expecting a call from you so early this morning,” your mother smiled widely, adjusting the lid of the laptop so she could see you properly. “You look wonderful. We miss you, sweetie. We must come and see you when we come back home. We’ve brought you and Harry some lovely presents to go in your home,” your mother added, looking to your father who was sipping from a white china mug of coffee as he looked over the countryside in front of him.
“You’re going to love them,” he chirped up, sitting up in the chair as he looked closer to the camera. “Where is that husband of yours? We want to see his handsome face,” he teased, a giggle leaving your lips as you looked to the door in hopes he was going to walk through soon, with food to soothe your aching belly.
“He’s just popped downstairs to see his mum and Robin. We’ve come to Cheshire for a couple of days to come and see them since we had some news to tell them,” you grinned, running your fingers through your hair and letting it cascade down your shoulders. “And when Harry comes back, we’ve got to tell you as well.”
You couldn’t help but watch as your mother tensed up a tiny bit, her body language sifting as she uncrossed her legs and let her arms rest on the table that was set up upon the balcony of their room. Your father’s eyes went slightly wide, a course of worry rushing through him as he looked to your grinning face through the screen.
“News? What news? Oh goodness, are you sick? No, you wouldn’t be grinning like that other. Is it good news?” Your mother asked.
“It’s good news. Definitely good news.”
A smile lifted the corner of your lips as you watched the bedroom door open, revealing Harry with a tray of bacon sandwiches in his hands with a couple of glasses of orange juice perched in the corner of the tray. A grin on his lips as he placed the tray on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed, lifting the Mac from his side of the bed and setting on his thighs and he sat up against the bed with you. His lips pressing to your forehead in a soft kiss.
“Good morning, Harry. How are you this morning?” Your father asked, as Harry nodded courteously.
“I’m very well, thank you, (Y/F/N). How are you? How’s Scotland? It looks warmer than what me and (Y/N) were thinking it would be,” Harry smiled, lifting a patterned plate up and setting it your lap, smiling as you inhaled deeply and let your tummy grumble once again. “We must pop up to Surrey and see you soon. We’re in need of another London escape soon,” he chuckled, watching from the corner of his eyes as you took a bite of the sandwich in your lap.
“That would be great. We were just talking to (Y/N) about how we need to see you both soon. We’ve brought you some presents from Scotland that you’d like, so we need to give them to you soon,” your father smiled, squeezing your mothers hand as they looked to the camera with serious looks. “Now, what is this news? We need to know. Your mother is having a bit of a nervous freak out right now,” your father laughed.
You looked across to Harry with a mouth filled of bacon sandwich, a smile on your lips as you swallowed the food and toyed with the bread of the sandwich left on your plate.
“Well, we found out something a couple of days ago that we couldn’t be happier about. It’s one of the reasons why we probably can’t stop smiling and grinning and all that jazz today. I mean, it’s normal for first time parents to be all gushing about this type of thing. And we found a couple of days ago and this is really happening,” you smiled, watching your mother’s eyes light up.
“First time parents? You’re- Oh my gosh, you’re having a baby? A little baby? (Y/F/N), they’re having a baby. We’re going to be grandparents? Our little girl is having a baby of her own,” your mother cried, her hands cupping her face as you watched her eyes glisten with tears. Your father stayed looking at the camera, a smile on his face as your mother took his hand in her own, squeezing it tightly as tears dribbled down her cheeks.
“Dad?”
“Sweetheart, this is fantastic. I’m so, I’m so happy for you, (Y/N). We’re so glad it’s Harry you’re doing this with. He’s a bloody keep, I’m telling you. You’re both going to be excellent at this parenting thing, for sure,” he grinned, throwing an arm across his wife’s shoulder and pulling her into his side. Comforting words leaving his lips as Harry chuckled lightly, his own arm being placed across your shoulders. “Have you had a scan yet? Is everything looking well? Are they healthy? Are there definitely going to be no complications?”
“Our midwife told us that everything should go well, all depending upon whether we take things carefully and look out for things that could harm me or the baby and everything,” you reasoned, looking at the half sandwich still on your plate. Your stomach churning lightly as you puffed out a heavy breath. “I mean, morning sickness has been a bitch recently. It’s taking the life out of me for goodness sake, but, it’s all worth it in the end.”
“It’s definitely worth it, sweetheart. Every pain, every stretch mark, every sickness bout, everything about being pregnant with you was worth it, sweetheart,” your mother smiled, her tears drying up as she wiped at her tear ducts with her forefingers; and instead almost bringing you to tears as you dropped your head to Harry’s shoulder, a puff of breath leaving your mouth again as his attention turned from your father to your distressed figure.
“What’s the matter? Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Harry whispered, soothingly and comforting as he rubbed his forefinger into your shoulder. A soft cry left your lips as you nuzzled your face into the place beneath Harry’s armpit. “Don’t cry, my love. It’s okay. You’re going to make me cry if you don’t stop, and that’s not so manly to do in front of your parents, I’m telling you,” he chuckled, pressing his lips to your hairline.
“I’m just happy. I’m just so overwhelmed right now and I’m so happy and everything’s just going so well and I love you,” you sobbed, looking up with a wet smile on your face. “I’m just so thankful for everything that’s going on, Harry. And I’m so glad you’re part of my life and I can’t thank you enough for just staying by my side when I need you.”
“I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon, baby. You’re stuck with me,” Harry chuckled.
* *
* FOUR DAYS LATER *
Louis. Harry.
I’ve got Niall and Liam in the car with me. Are we still alright to pop round? I know we’re early and everything but apparently Liam’s bathroom is being refurbished and Niall was bored.
My missus is still in the bath but I guess I can keep you guys entertained until she’s ready.
We’ve got some news to tell you today, as well. Pretty wicked news if I say so myself. ;)
Oh, news. We’ll be twenty minutes or so. Going to buy some flowers and some cake for your missus. Do you want anything, mate?
I’m alright, thanks.
Could you get some more orange juice? Maybe some more bread. My missus has been craving toast recently.
Toast, eh? Bit of a weird thing to want on occasion. Ha! But then again, your missus is a weird lady. ;)
I’m joking. She’s lovely. We love her. We’ll see you soon.
..
.
Alright. What flowers does (Y/N) like? We’re stumped and don’t want to ask her because she’ll know.
Just get a bunch of lilies. Maybe some of those chrysanthemums – no problem on the colour. She’ll love the thought from you lads.
Niall’s brought her a hot chocolate from Starbucks in Sainsburys. Liam’s gone to get a cake and the bread for you.
Thanks, lad. You’re a real help. We’ll see you soon. I need to go check on her – she worries me when she has baths.
Why? Haha!
Because she sits in them for too long and worries me because she doesn’t call for me or anything. Sometimes, I think she just sleeps and she’ll end up drowning in the bath or something.
You worry too much, mate.
We’ll see you in a bit.
* *
A knock on the door sounded around the house as you swung around on your heel to face Harry, your towel still in your hand as you dried your hair loosely. Your eyes widening as he stood from the bed, his jeans rolled up at the ankles as he shuffled across the bedroom carpet with a hasty grin on his lips, his teeth showing brightly under the bedroom light.
“Who is that?” You wondered, frowning as you looked at the time on your phone. “Tell me it’s not the boys? We said 3. Not 1 o’clock, Harry. I’m not ready. I still need to dress and put make-up on, and I need to sort my hair out. You did tell them 3 o’clock, didn’t you?” You asked, sternness in your voice as you gave him a stare.
“Liam’s bathroom is being refurbished and he wanted to get out the house and Niall was bored and Louis suggested they may as well come early,” Harry reasoned, standing in the doorway with a sheepish smile on his lips. “I can’t tell them to leave now. They’re already here,” he murmured. A huff left your lips as you dropped the towel to the floor and walked across the bedroom to the bathroom, closing the door behind you.
“Baby…”
“Go and answer them, Harry. Go on, and I’ll be down in a second. Let me just finish getting dressed,” you smiled.
* *
“So, what are we needed here for? You have news, and we’re not good with waiting so, can we know?” Niall asked from his place on the floor beside your legs. Your hands were occupied as you adjusted the flowers the Louis had given you in a vase upon the coffee table, Niall’s head resting against your knees as Harry and Liam were located in the kitchen cutting the cake up and setting it out on plates.
“Can you give us a hint, love? We’ve been trying to guess, but we can’t think of anything,” Louis begged, looking up from his phone and sitting up in the arm chair of the room. “Please? Oh god, are you getting married again? Is this going to be an annual thing? Wedding every year?” Louis teased, earning a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head. “What? I’m joking. But can we at least have a hint?”
“No. Just wait until Harry and Liam come back will you? It’s something we need to tell you together,” you smiled, looking down at Niall as he looks up to you with a soft smile.
“Are you and Harry having problems?” He asked innocently, a scoff leaving Louis’ lips as you giggled softly. His blonde locks were messed with his hands running through his hair, a groan leaving his lips as he covered his face with his palms. “I’m stressing out. Can we please know? I’m not good with knowing we’re being told something. Why’d’you think I’m a nervous wreck when it comes to award shows? Fuck. Just tell us.”
“Harry, Liam! Get in here before Niall has a panic attack,” Louis teased, reaching forward for his bottle of water that was set at his feet. Bundled feet were soon heard, as Liam entered the room with three plates of cake in his hands; one being for you, Louis and himself, whilst Harry carried himself and Niall a plate. “Hallelujah.”
“You guys are impatient as fuck, I’m telling you. Why don’t we let Harry and (Y/N) tell us in their own times, yeah? We can’t rush them to tell us something so personal,” Liam reasoned, taking a seat in the opposite arm chair to Louis, a smirk on his lips as Louis rolled his eyes and fell back against the seat, the plate of cake held tightly in his hands. “But seriously, tell us soon, yeah? We’re all stressing.”
You looked to Harry, who had taken the seat beside you, a smile on his lips as he looked down at his lap, his eyes glossing over as he looked back up and took a forkful of his cake, chewing on the moist and spongy cake in a triangle in front of him. A giggle left your lips as a crumb fell onto his neatly ironed shirt, the icing from the cake sticking to his upper lip as he munched on the sponge.
“Alright, well, since Harry’s stuffing his face with cake, I guess I’ll tell you,” you smirked, standing up and setting your plate on the coffee table. “A couple of days ago, me and Harry had a doctor’s appointment. So, as you know, I’d been feeling a bit ill and it was beginning to worry Harry, so, he booked me an appointment with June who is Harry’s GP,” you reached around Niall, stepping around the sofa and grabbing your handbag that had contained your sonogram from your first ultrasound photo. “Well, they took some tests from me to see what the problem was, and we found out that we are – “ you stepped back over to the sofas, turning around the sonogram to show the boys, their mouths dropping in shock. “Me and Harry are having a baby,” you finalised.
“A baby? A little baby Styles? Are you serious?” Niall cried out, jumping to his feet as he pulled you into a hug, the sonogram falling from your hands and onto the sofa beside Harry’s thigh. “We’re having a baby? There’s going to be a baby! A little baby, lads!” Niall cried out, holding you at arms length and cupping your elbows in his palms.
“Lad, congratulations. That’s amazing news. You must be thrilled,” Louis grinned, as he and Liam stood from their positions to where Harry was now leaning forward with his forearms on his knees. “Look at that smile on his face! He’s a daddy! That’s amazing news, Harry. We’re so happy for you,” he grinned, reaching for the sonogram sitting beside Harry’s thigh, and looking down at the little smudge in the corner.
“A baby, eh? That’s absolutely fantastic. You knocked her up,” Liam teased, earning a soft scoff from your mouth, your chin resting on Niall’s shoulder as he hugged you tightly to his chest. “I’m kidding, love. Honestly. That’s amazing. A little niece or nephew for us lads, that’s amazing news. We’re so happy for you. You both deserve this,” Liam smiled, as Harry stood from his place on the sofa.
“Thanks boys. We’re really thankful you support us. Obviously, it’s going to be tough for the two of us since we’re first time parents and everything, but, I really can’t wait for this to happen,” Harry grinned, as Louis – who now had you tucked into his arms in a tight hug – let you go to where Harry was standing with his arms open. “We’re going to be parents, baby. Let’s kick parenthoods arse,” he grinned.

Notes