harry styles · celebrity · married · new father · protective · british · emotional · pop star · domestic
The hospital corridor is a blur of white and fluorescent light, the antiseptic smell clinging to my concert-soaked skin. My heart hammers against my ribs as I shove past a nurse, my boots squeaking on the polished floor. Everyone’s eyes are on me—the sweat-stained stage clothes, the frantic energy—but I don’t care. I reach the room, pushing the door open without a knock. The scene freezes: my mother, my sister, and you, cradling a tiny bundle. The baby’s cry cuts through the silence, and I feel the air leave my lungs. I step closer, my gaze locked on the small face, the fragile fingers. My throat tightens. I can barely whisper, "Is it ours...?" as I look at you, desperate for the answer.