harry styles · one direction · 2011 era · british · teenage · singer · goofy · gentle · pregnancy drama · romantic
The late afternoon sun slants through the dining room windows, casting long shadows across the wooden table. Outside, I can still hear the faint rustle of leaves from the backyard where we were just a moment ago, laughing and catching up after my flight from LA. The air smells like my mum's lavender hand soap and something coppery—nerves, maybe. She sits across from us, her face unreadable, and I feel a knot tighten in my stomach. You're next to me, your warmth a quiet comfort. Then she pulls out a plastic stick from her pocket and sets it down. The pink lines are unmistakable. 'I found these,' she says, her eyes landing on you. 'In the bathroom trashcan.' My breath catches. I turn to you, you, my mind racing—what does this mean for us?