Harvard Boy

Unexpected.

Once in awhile, they'd remember everything. The seemingly complicated strings connecting; binding, every mistake; every lie.

But the soft touches; the sex- would counteract whatever quarrel they were having within themselves. Smooth linen sheets, with sprawled limbs- clouded, whatever logical judgement followed to be conceited.

When she awoke that morning, she thought of nothing in particular.

Making the lie they were living, worth much more while.

Turning to her side- light rays of sunshine danced across Harry's skin, as shallow breaths filled the room. Illuminating the cut of his jaw, the sprawl of curls out lining his face.

Her stomach churned. Flipping and dancing, overwhelming nausea made her feet hit the ground, and legs run for the restroom.

It's the stress.

The secrets.

She told herself, while emptying the contents from last nights meal.

"Babe?" A groggy voice echoed through the next room. "You okay?"

Harry, with muffed hair and slit eyes, ran a hand over his face to wipe away the sleep maiming his features- groggily padding across the floor.

Shirtless; unaware, he finally reaches the retching girl he seems to be vainly aware of- leaning over a toilet in disgust, as her head lurches for round two.

He absentmindedly reaches for her, kneeling and pulling back her hair. Whatever grogginess he felt was long gone now, as a burst of concern shot through him.

He was awake; unsettled.

"I knew that fish was a bad idea." His fingers attempted to gather every strand. "I mean, what kind of bloke swears it's the freshest of its kind? What the hell does that even mean?"

He was talking to himself, as she finally emptied the last amount of bile rising.

Reaching to flush, he hurriedly beat her to it. Feeling as if this was more of his burden, rather hers.

"Come on, let's get you back in bed."

Victoria wanted to cry, wanted to shoo him away. Because she knew, it wasn't the fish from the market yesterday. Knew it wasn't a twenty four hour virus either.

Her period has been absent these last few months. Causing the rumbling shock; the denial.

She's been at the beach house for a solid four weeks. Hoping; praying, that in that time she'd somehow come to realize it's all just a misunderstanding. They've only been unprotected a handful of times, and that it couldn't possibly mean anything.

No

She whispers to herself.

Im not.

Her conscious cheered in un-acceptance.

Before she could even let the stinging tears aching to fall- go. He picked her up gently, pulling her close to his chest.

He made it back to their room.

Gingerly, but delicately, laying her on the bed as if she was the most fragile piece to his puzzle.

And perhaps she was.

"Harry, we need to talk." She hushes, feeling warm blankets cover any exposed skin.

"Later, you're sick." He mimes, while planting a sloppy kiss to her forehead.

"I'm gonna go start some tea for us." He says, pulling away. "And then...I'm going to let you decide on a movie, that will most likely make me want to rip my hair out, because all of your choices are absolute shit."

"Harry..."

"No, if I hear "The bend and snap." line, one more time. We may be on the show 48 hours." He smiled, before tilting a brow at Victoria's lulled expression.

She was trying to tell him something; trying to expose this overwhelming fear.

But his ignorance was pure bliss in his mind. He dodged her pleading gaze with whatever he wanted to say in the moment.

"I'm sorry you feel bad." Harry murmurs, leaning back down to plant another chaste kiss.

"But good news. Finalized scholarships have been posted for next semester. And I'm sure you got a notice." He smiled.

Quickly fumbling to the side of the dresser. Reaching, and grabbing his macbook, he swiftly planted it on her lap.

"Take a look. I'll be back."

He left without another word.

Abandoning a swarm of choked back sobs, a fit of screams rivaling to be heard. She wanted to punch something, to call his name in vain.

What's a scholarship if she's pregnant? What's a life like this, if he doesn't love her?

It was as if the realization brought the misery of it all right along with it.

Felt as if she was drowning in an ocean, that never steadied, but trembled with a raging storm.

With tears cascading, hands shaking- She finally opened the laptop. Typed and logged into her personal email.

Her inbox was full of Harvard Negotiates. Student board collections. Another few private names of professors congratulating her on final exams.

But that's not what caught her breath, that's not what made her heart rate sky rocket.

It was the underlying third email down. Farthest from the scholarship referral. Furthest from thought, once she awoke this morning.

But now it's all brought back in a slamming halt of confusion.

She took a second glance, re-reading the bolded From: Sam Munchin.

(I know it's been ages, I know I'm horrible 🙈. But I tried to write a longer chapter for you! And I hope everyone had a very merry Christmas! (Mine was not that great.) but maybe next year? Eeeekkkk hopefully this was a surprising chap as well! ☺️ love you all, thanks for reading 😘)