Sage

72

A/N i don't believe in bad endings! just know that harry and ellie's story is meant to be realistic, although uncomfortable. as someeone who's gone through having a baby, it really isn't easy at first. be patient as they navigate being new parents pls :(( i love love love u chiccy nuggies!! <3

Ellie.

I keep thinking about the day I gave birth.

Despite the blurriness of it all, my foggy memory tends to hold onto the key moments— the feeling of my son's slimy skin on my bare chest, the sound of his brittle cry echoing in the small room, the nurses as they happily informed me I had a healthy baby boy, my ugly sobs as I became overwhelmed with so much love I swore my heart would burst. All of it replayed in my mind like the perfect broken record, and part of me felt as though I'd remembered them so vividly as a means to protect myself from the future.

"I'm so proud of you, El. Thank you so much," Harry murmured, then kissed my jawline. I sank back into his warmth, feeling my skin fuzzy at his affection.

I remember looking down at our son, finally seeing his features as he quieted down his cries and decided to give this new world a chance.

His delicate green eyes (they were cloudy, looking a little gray) were slightly sloped down at the outer corners, just like Harry's. I watched them in awe as they assessed the room, widening ever so often as he smacked on his tiny lips. It was then that I realized how much he looked like his father. From the slight raise of his ears to the straight line of his faint eyebrows, he was Harry's identical twin. In the few weeks since I've given birth, his skin has tanned in the slightest, but that seems to be all he's gotten from me.

Our child was nameless for the first few hours of birth. I want to say the exhaustion caused it to slip our minds. To be fair, a lot was going on. The hospital staff was filtering in and out of the room, and doctors constantly took him for tests. At the same time, I struggled to rest for a few moments; my uterus was being pushed down every hour while Harry made phone calls to our friends and family sitting in the lobby at what was then three am. Everyone was tired, and it was nothing out of a fairy tale. It was hectic.

By the time it finally calmed down, it was just Harry, me, and our son in the room. It was the first moment we'd gotten genuinely alone, and I was still drugged up and half-asleep.

Our son was wide awake and cooing softly while I held him. Harry, who'd gotten out of bed a few hours ago, sat in the chair next to me. His arm lay over the bed and lazily intertwined with my hand. I knew Harry was tired, but I knew he refused to sleep until I was. The dull song said hummed told me that.

"What time is it?" My voice was flat as I blinked slowly.

Harry paused his humming to mumble, "Six,"

I can't help but chuckle weakly, my shoulders bouncing tiredly, "We've been up for almost 24 hours,"

Harry made a faint noise between a grunt and a snort, "Don't remind me," he yawned, readjusting himself in the uncomfortable chair. I couldn't help but feel a little guilty that he hadn't had anywhere pleasant to sit.

There was a moment of silence, where we both agreed to rest our eyes for a few moments. But it quickly ended when a nurse knocked and opened the door, causing me to groan.

Thankfully, she was there with a packet, not to poke and prod and take our son for another round of tests. I listened groggily as she explained what we needed to fill out- our names, our address. Affidavit of parentage for child born out of wedlock, is what it said.