One Direction...All Dads? Series

Chapter 13.

Hey guise! So, yes, it's been a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNGGGGGGGGG time  since I've updated, I'm sorry...BUT...school is really stressful. I promise to update over Thanksgiving Break though!!! Sorry for the long delay but I'm back ;))))))))

Okay, well enjoy chapter 13, and if you don't remember what happened previously, just go back and re-read it! Kisses!

XXXXXXXX,

D

                                                                              ***Fleur's POV:***

Inside of my head gurgled horrid thoughts, as my eyes darted over to Darcy's room. My lips clenched, my head stiffened. My plan wouldn't work if Harry was following my every move, and seeing what I was doing with Darcy. It just wouldn't work. 

He rubbed my back, and I wanted to push him away and scream, but also fall deep into his arms at the same time. His phone suddenly rang, and he sprung up to get it, looking back to me as he was close to the door, as to say "is it okay that I'm leaving to answer my phone?" and I smiled at him. He hopped away, probably happy that someone spared him from the awkwardness of trying to soothe me. I was never going to live a happy life, I thought, as I plopped on the bed, letting my arms spread wide around me, my short, thin, ugly hair spread around my neck. 

This plan required not only time, but dedication. And with Harry being so attached to Darcy meant that I wouldn't be able to carry out her excecution. If I bring a baby bottle to Darcy, Harry always unscrews the lid, dips a finger in to make sure it's warm, but not piping, but also not cold. Those could "unsettle an infants stomach lining." Or if I try to put Darcy to sleep, Harry always scoops her up and takes her to her room to sing to her whilst rocking on the rocking chair. The only way I could do anything to that little bratty-baby was if Harry was performing on a concert, or even better, on tour.

"Sorry babe, just had a business call." Harry strutted back in the room, his thumb locked in his ratty jeans pocket, his Nirvana shirt had a ketchup stain on it, and his scruffed converse were becoming more...err...scruffed by the minute. 

Although, my heart perked at two things. First of all at babe, which is ridiculous for me to think about. Romantic things don't help a master-mind at work. Whenever Harry calls me names like Babe, Baby, Honey, or Sweetie, I melt a little, letting my nicer and accepting side ooze out for a millisecond...then I mentally snap my fingers and electrocute my brain a little. How dare I fall in for his trap. Besides, it's not like he actually means it. With Victoria, they had inside jokes for eachother. Victoria would call him 'Chubby-Monkey'. Whatever explanation THAT has behind it. And Harry would respond with "Cheese-Brick" and they would nuzzle noses, stare into eachothers eyes, and lean in for a long kiss. It was disgusting. When I was around them, observing their every little action, I felt nausea welled up inside of me. When I murdered Victoria, that nausea left me. Was I jealous?  I shuddered from my deep thoughts. My heart had also perked at his "business call." Business meant the band, the band meant 5 young group members, ready to tour the world and give concerts and sign millions of albums at the Mall of America and tents set up in the middle of Phoneix. Or at least that's what I had observed, when I had been dragged along to his short U.S.A. tour. Horrifying. But business meant gigs away from home, where I could continue to set up my plan.

"Oh. Well I hope everythings alright, dear." I managed in a saccharine voice, almost sickly sweet. The dear added to it sounded like something a grandmother would say. But my goal was to become an angel, grandma words or not. He shot me a "Thank you for being here regardless" smile, this time real. It's not like it was romantic, it was a smile a man would use for his mother, or his grandmother.

"Actually, Paul said something about..." he was cutoff by the obnoxious ring of his new i-Phone. I mentally rolled my eyes as he answered it again, getting into business mode and wandering off into the hall to have a more...proper talk.

I stirred a bit, crossed my legs, and looked at Darcy. Her tiny curl rested on her shoulder and rised up and down and up and down along with her steady breath. Even though I couldn't feel her, she was warm, a bubble of innocence. A bit of formula milk dribbled on her chin, and even in sleep her cheeks were bright pink. Her eyelashes shadowed her green orbs, and her pudgy arms and legs were sprawled out in different directions as she was merely covered with her fuzzy brown blanket. For the tiniest moment I thought I should cover her exposed body parts, but then a delectable fantasy of Darcy catching a cold and dying from a bacterial infection from exposure to cool air or lack of a warm atmosphere tickled me pink. I was itching to kill her, right there and then. Suddenly I was towering over her, my hands gently floating from her tiny belly rising up and down with her quick heartbeat all the way to her neck, where I felt for her jugular vein and the crevices of her deep skin. One quick finger movement and Darcy was a goner. My brain urged me to...think about spending the rest of your life with a hot baby-less husband, but most of all money. I stared into her golden honey locks and was jealous of her at that moment as well. I gathered my middle finger and put it right next to my pointer, two fingers slowly hovering over her jugular spot...Ready.....Set.....

"Um?"

I was startled by a manly voice, and realized that I had forgotten he was here all along. Not next to me, but in the house. I gathered up my act and pretended to be fidgeting with the blanket to cover up her exposed toes. I kissed her on her smooth, porcelain forehead to seal the act. I turned around to see a grinning Harry. Thank goodness he wasn't suspicious of anything else.

"Why so happy looking Harry?" I grinned right back at him, poking him in the ab, which seemed out of my style to do.

"Baby, I'm going on tour!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

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