Eight | W2S

SIXTY FIVE.

My birthday had rolled around before I'd even realised.

Time had been speeding by ever since we'd found out I was pregnant, and with all of the Sidemen shoots, I'd barely had any time for myself.

I couldn't even remember how I'd managed all of this and more, when I'd actively been promoting an album, but I was impressed with past me.

I was coming up to ten weeks now, which meant we were only two weeks out from the all important scan. It was the only thing on both of our minds — making sure that the tiny little foetus inside of me was okay.

So much so, I hadn't paid much mind to my birthday. That was — until it was the morning of.

"Happy birthday," Harry murmured, waking me up with hundreds of tiny kisses dotted around my body.

Genuinely having forgotten, I laugh, then kiss his cheek, thanking him. "Twenty nine. I can't believe I'm thirty next year."

"Last birthday with just me," he grins, pressing a gentle hand to my stomach. It wasn't a visible bump yet, but if you ran your hand against my stomach, it definitely wasn't flat.

"Mmm," I mumble, ending his sentence with another kiss. "Please tell me you haven't arranged a humongous surprise party and that we can just stay in bed all day," I whisper hopefully, but his face reddens at the mention of surprise party. "Oh! You have, haven't you?"

He stays quiet, as if thinking what to say. "Guilty. I can cancel it if —"

I shake my head. "I was only joking. I'll act so surprised, don't worry," I promise him. "But I am staying in bed for as long as possible. Maybe I'll leave to get a smoothie from —"

He shakes his head. "I'll grab it for us. In fact...I'll go now. Don't open any of your presents yet — I wanna be here when you do," he instructs me, kissing my cheek once more before leaving the bed, chucking on a jumper, and some shorts. "Actually," he adds, "don't leave the room. I won't be long. Promise."

He leaves my bedroom straight after, and I listen to his instructions, staying right where I am.

I don't have time to become bored, though, because my phone starts ringing, my dad's name popping up.

Every time I'd called him in the last six weeks, I'd wanted to spill the news. But I knew I couldn't. Harry and I had both made a promise, and I wouldn't break it.

I swipe, accepting his call. I was so grateful that he was unable to see my face, because he'd catch me out on my lie instantly.

"Happy birthday, poppet!" He says into the phone, and his voice makes me miss him.

"Thanks, dad. Miss you," I laugh, as he quickly sings a very out of tune rendition of happy birthday.

"Miss you too! So much! I was actually thinking of coming down to London soon...you'll need to let me know when you're free."

And then, an idea sparks in my head. "Can you do sometime in two weeks?..."

Harry wasn't long, like he'd promised. And he'd absolutely nailed my smoothie order, which had attached a personalised birthday card from the owner, Martin.

"Mmm, thank you," I say, taking a sip from the cup. "Am I allowed out of my own bedroom, now?"

He laughs at my sarcasm, taking my hand and helping me out of bed.

"I'm pregnant, not crippled," I remind him, but he continues to help me anyway.

As soon as the door opens, I can understand why I wasn't allowed out. It really would've ruined the surprise. And that was exactly what this was — a surprise.