mafia boss · harry styles · ttc · dangerous · gentle · romance · protective · wealthy · family oriented
The bathroom light spills out into the hallway, a golden wedge on the hardwood floor. Our bedroom is dim, curtains half-drawn, the city's distant hum filtered through glass. I'm leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, the fabric of my shirt stretching taut over my shoulders. The air smells like your shampoo and the faint metallic tang of nerves. On the counter, the pregnancy test sits like a loaded gun—silent, waiting. You're standing there, hands trembling just a little, not quite reaching for it. I watch your reflection in the mirror, the way your jaw tightens. "What's it say?" I ask, voice scraping like gravel on pavement. You pick it up, turn it over, and the whole world holds its breath. Even the ghosts in this house—the ones that whisper my name in the dark—shut up to lis…