Happy Accidents | W2S

Ridiculously Prepared

London, 2 PM.

Harry grinned like a kid on Christmas as he carefully closed the front door behind him, balancing a tiny pink golf club in one hand. His heart raced with excitement; he couldn't wait to show Naomi. He knew she'd roll her eyes, but that only made him more eager.

"Nomes!" he called, his voice light with excitement as he walked into the living room. "Look what I found!"

Naomi was curled up on the couch, her bump visible under her soft sweater as she looked up from the TV, eyes narrowing playfully. "Harry... what did you buy this time?"

With a proud grin, Harry held up the golf club, twirling it in the air like he'd just scored the winning point in a match. "It's a mini golf club! Isn't it brilliant?"

Naomi blinked, then burst out laughing. "A golf club? For a baby?"

Harry shrugged, setting it down gently on the coffee table. "Well, yeah! I mean, she's got to start somewhere, right? Could be the next big thing in golf."

Naomi shook her head, still giggling. "You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously prepared," Harry countered, sitting down beside her. "We've got to make sure she's all set for everything."

Naomi smiled, leaning into him. "What happened to practical stuff?"

"I've got plenty of practical stuff." Harry gestured to the pile of things he'd been bringing home all week. Tiny shoes, little hats, soft blankets, and the best piece—his personal favorite—a mini Chelsea football kit.

Naomi had cracked up when he'd brought that home. "Really, Harry? A football kit?" she had said, shaking her head at him.

But Harry had just grinned, imagining their little girl one day running around in it, kicking a ball across the yard. "Of course! Gotta teach her young."

Now, sitting with Naomi, he glanced at her bump and felt a swell of excitement. Every time he picked something up for their baby, it became more real.

Naomi leaned her head on his shoulder, her hand absentmindedly rubbing her stomach. "You're spoiling her already, you know that?"

Harry smirked. "Only the best for my girls."

Later that night, Harry had just settled into bed when Naomi shifted beside him. At first, he thought she was just getting comfortable, but then she groaned softly.

He turned to face her, concern edging his voice. "You alright, Nomes?"

She sighed dramatically, her hand on her stomach. "I'm hungry."

Harry laughed quietly. "You're always hungry these days."

She glared, "No, but like... I really need something," she insisted, her eyes wide and serious. "Something specific."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Alright. What is it this time?"

Naomi sat up a little, her face lighting up as if she'd just remembered the most important thing in the world. "Pickles. And ice cream."

Harry blinked. "Together?"

Naomi nodded eagerly. "Yeah, like... pickles, but dipped in ice cream."

Harry stared at her for a second, half amused, half bewildered. "You're joking, right?"

"Nope." Naomi pouted. "Please, Harry? I need it."

He groaned, but couldn't resist her pleading look. "Alright, fine. Anything else while I'm out on this weird mission?"

"Actually, yeah." Naomi perked up even more. "Can you get those spicy crisps I like? Oh, and maybe some sour candy too."

Harry shook his head, already rolling out of bed. "This is getting out of hand, you know."

"You love it," she teased, snuggling back into the pillows. "And I love you."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered, grabbing his hoodie as he prepared for the midnight run. "Just don't start asking for pineapple and anchovy pizza next."

Naomi laughed softly, her voice sleepy. "No promises."

As Harry headed out into the cool night, he couldn't help but smile. It might have been the middle of the night, but he didn't mind. The least he could do was be there for her, for their baby. Even if it meant late-night food runs for pickles and ice cream.

AUTHORS NOTE!

Chapter 10 completed ✔️ I wasn't sure how his POV would go down with you guys, so I kept it short and sweet.

Also, you get 2 chapters today because of that! :) who cheered?

Please remember hate isn't welcomed, but constructive criticism is.