One Direction One Shots 1

The Assistant Epilogue: Small Bump (Harry)

My eyes were raw and I was so exhausted I kept having to remind myself just to breathe. I hadn’t been sure. I’d known for weeks but I couldn’t be positive. Not until today. Now it was official. How did we even get here? Hadn’t we jumped enough hurdles? Dodged enough bullets? Sacrificed enough? I buried my head in my hands and tried not to cry again. I’d done nothing but that since ten o’clock this morning. I just needed him to come home. But I was terrified of him walking through that door.

I wasn’t worried about me. I could handle this. I was ready for this. His age had been such a non-issue for so long that I’d almost completely forgotten about it but now it was flashing in my head. Calling me an idiot. How could you ruin his life like this? He’s a child. You’re a grown woman. His entire life was happening, right now. And you were about to sweep the rug out from under him. That’s all that was running through my head as the doctors words replayed in my head.

Twelve weeks.

My mind searched through our nights together. Twelve weeks ago. My instincts pulled me to the night and I knew that had to be it.

We’d walked home from dinner. The air had been perfectly clean and crisp and Hampstead felt so safe. Somehow the photogs weren’t out and we were allowed this moment of privacy. I’d held his hand with both of mine and rest my chin on his shoulder. He’d kissed my forehead and fixed my coat around my throat to keep the cool air off my neck. God, I loved him. For those small things that most grown men didn’t think of but he did.

We moved slow through the house. Taking our coats off in the kitchen. Kicking our shoes off by the couch. He’d laid down on the couch and grabbed my wrist, pulling me on top of him. I’d moved his hair from his forehead and traced the features of his face the way I loved doing. We’d been living together for a couple months now. It was hard not to do things for him that fit my previous job description. Getting his dry cleaning. His coffee. Making sure he had everything he needed before leaving the house. Running over his schedule with him. But he’d smile at me and remind me that I wasn’t his Assistant anymore and he’d kiss my nose and I’d laugh at myself and remember I was just his girlfriend.

We kissed for so long that night. Letting our entire bodies feel it. Our legs tangled together. His fingers wrapped in my hair as my hand rest on his cheek. When I’d finally sat up, straddling his hips, he’d looked up at me so warm. Everything in those green eyes. I’d unbuttoned his dress shirt carefully, pressed my palm flat to his heart and trailed it down his stomach.

I’d pulled my dress over my head and slid my hand around his neck to the curls at the nape when he sat up and smoothed his palms across my back. He’d turned his mouth to my ear, tucked my hair back and whispered that he loved me. I’d closed my eyes and let my memory take me back over our entire history together. The look in his eyes when we’d met. The burn of his hand on my knee when I’d finally let myself be attracted to him. The slickness of his lips against mine for the first time. The day I’d spent mapping out every inch of his skin. Connecting myself to him. The bathroom where we’d laid out all of our cards and made love to each other. The day I’d given up everything but him. The best decision I’d ever made.

We’d maneuvered and adjusted but stayed wrapped in each other. When he’d lifted me in his lap and lowered me down slowly, my entire body seemed to sigh at the feeling of having him inside me. We’d been together just that morning but I needed him all the time. I loved him so much that it was the only time I truly felt like I could fully express it. By connecting myself physically to him.

I’d pulled his shirt off his shoulder and pressed my mouth to it, breathing against his skin and clinging to his bicep as he pulled and I pushed. I clung to the back of the couch and held his face in my other hand. He let me take control, rolling over him as he slid both of his hands across my cheeks and kissed me, pulling my face away and looking me in the eyes. I’d moved my hand from the back of the couch and anchored it around his head. I couldn’t let go of him. I felt that if I did, I’d float away. I felt like I weighed nothing more than a feather.