Seven months ago, when Harry asked me to be his girlfriend, I couldn't have been happier. He was everything I wanted-loyal, caring, funny, and incredibly handsome. It felt like nothing could come between us.
But then our lives changed forever from j...
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London, 9 AM.
The morning light spilled through the windows of Harry's flat, illuminating the room in a warm glow. I stood in the living room, surrounded by a mix of my belongings and his, a chaotic blend of our lives. Boxes were piled high, some still sealed, while others lay open, revealing glimpses of my life before Harry.
As I sorted through my things, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with nerves. Moving in together was a significant step for us, but it felt right. I wanted to build a life with him, especially with our little nugget on the way.
"Naomi! Can you help me with this?" Harry called from the kitchen, his voice laced with amusement.
I made my way over to find him struggling to open a box of mugs, his brow furrowed in concentration. "You need a hand?" I teased, stepping in to help.
He laughed, and I felt the tension ease. "I thought I'd start with something simple, but apparently, I'm not cut out for this."
"Who knew unpacking mugs would be such a challenge?" I said, shaking my head with a smile. Together, we sorted through the kitchenware, and I couldn't help but notice the little moments—like how he would hand me a mug, brushing his fingers against mine, or the way he'd lean in close, asking my opinion on each piece.
"Should we keep this one?" he asked, holding up a quirky mug with Garfield on it.
I laughed. "If you want our future child to think you're a total dork, then absolutely."
He pretended to be offended, placing the mug back in the box with exaggerated care. "Fine, I'll save it for when they're old enough to appreciate my sense of humor."
As we continued unpacking, I felt a warm flutter in my chest. This was home. Our home.
Later, we sat on the couch, and the space started to feel more like ours. I could see the potential for cozy movie nights and lazy Sunday mornings. As the reality of living together settled in, I felt a surge of happiness mixed with the familiar flicker of nerves.
"Do you think we should find out the gender of the baby?" I asked, glancing at him.
Harry shrugged, his eyes thoughtful. "I'm not sure. Part of me wants to know, but there's something exciting about waiting. Like a surprise."
"I feel the same," I admitted. "It could be fun to keep it a mystery until they're born, but also I want to be able to plan everything perfectly."
He hummed, looking at me. "We can make the doctor write it in an envelope, and open it if we ever change our mind?"
"That's actually a good idea," I said, smiling at him.
"Why so surprised? I'm not just good looks, you know." He teased, poking my side.
As the days turned into weeks, we navigated the small adjustments of sharing a space. I often found myself giggling as I watched Harry try to figure out where to place my things among his. One afternoon, I walked into the living room to find him stacking his collectibles precariously on top of my books.
"What are you doing?" I laughed, crossing my arms.
"I'm creating a balance," he said, in complete seriousness. "Artistic chaos."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't help but feel grateful for his willingness to adapt. "How about we try not to crush my novels under your 'artistic' flair?"
"Fine," he huffed playfully. "But you're missing out on my vision."
In the midst of all this, my mum dropped by unexpectedly one Saturday afternoon. Her sudden appearance made my heart race as I scrambled to tidy up, anxious about her judgment. Harry, sensing my nerves, reached for my hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
"Just breathe," he whispered.
When she finally walked in, her eyes widened at the sight of the organized chaos. "So this is how you two are settling in, huh?" she said, her tone a mix of curiosity and skepticism, looking around at the boxes left unpacked.
"Yeah, we're getting there," I replied, trying to sound confident.
Harry jumped in, his charm on full display. "We've got a system, really. She keeps my toys from taking over the flat."
"I see," she mumbled, her eyes holding judgment.
As the afternoon unfolded, we chatted about the baby and my mum slowly began to relax. By the time she left, there was a sense of acceptance in the air that hadn't been there before.
"See? You survived," Harry said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we waved her off.
I laughed, feeling lighter. "Thanks for being there. It made it easier."
"Always," he replied, leaning down to press a kiss to my temple.
That night, as we settled on the couch to watch a movie, a bowl of popcorn nestled between us, I asked, "Do you think we'll be good parents?" the question hanging in the air.
He turned to me, sincerity in his gaze. "I think we're going to be great."
His words filled me with reassurance. I felt a renewed sense of hope, ready to embrace the next few months with open arms.
With Harry by my side, the chaos of our new life began to feel manageable. We laughed through the little frustrations, shared the excitement of planning for our baby, and navigated challenges together. Each day brought us closer, and I knew that, despite the uncertainty, we would find our way—one step at a time.
AUTHORS NOTE
Chapter Five done ✔️ hope u guys enjoyed. It was another rushed one so I do apologize.
Updates might be spread out a little more instead of the usual daily, im not too sure though. Remember, hate isn't welcome, but constructive criticism is.
