Yes, Boss

one hundered and twenty.

Harry.

People don't die in child birth anymore, they just don't. This isn't call the midwife, it's 2016. All I can do is hold the tiny bundles to me, clutching them for my life.

"Mr Styles, your girlfriend will be fine, I promise" The midwife soothes, I don't realise how much I'm crying as she attempts to calm me. I nod, although I can't make myself listen. The door opens and my mum appears, taking in the scene. The absence of the metal bed in the centre of the room, I stand up, careful with the two precious things in my arms, my mum wraps her arms around me, besides being much much smaller and I bury my face in her hair, sobbing like a child. She's conciouss of what's between us as she rubs a hand up and down my arm.

"Mum, I dont know what's happening" I say.

She takes the baby girl from me, miraculously she's still quiet. My mother's eyes go soft and I wish that I could smile, and cry happy tears.

"So beautiful my love" She says, squeezing my hand. His cries have faded into soft whimpers and grumbles, tiny face screwed up, cheeks wet as I cradle him to me. They are beautiful.

"She's under general anesthetic, but we can bring her back in until she sleeps it off" A nurse enters, I take a deep breath, an uncharacteristic squeak coming from my mouth, my mother smiles at me and I have to swallow back more tears.

"See, didn't I tell you" The midwife pats my back. I nod, with a sigh of relief, dabbing at my eyes as I kiss the baby's soft head of hair. I hush the baby again.

"I'm going to get them both a bottle, she can nurse them as soon as she's well enough but they have to eat now, it'll get them nice and used to the smell of you anyway" The midwife says, leaving the room.

"Are you a hungry boy" I mumble, nuzzling his head.

"Your uncle Niall will love you, he's always hungry too" I say, soothing him.

"This one is an absolute darling" My mum says, touching her tiny cheek as she sleeps peacefully. I nod in agreement.

The midwife returns with a bottle, handing it to me, the faint warmth of the milk heating my hand, I sit down, hesitant as I watch the midwife for guidance.

"Just hold him nice and close to you so he gets comfortable with your smell, don't be scared, he'll have no idea it isn't mum" She says as I place the tip of the bottle near his mouth, he latches on instantly, his soft grumbling replaced with the sound of furious suckling. I feel like I'm about to cry again as I watch him, his eyes becoming heavy and his breathing rythmic as he drinks. I smile, reaching my finger out to his tiny hand, he wraps his fingers round instantly, eventually full as I hand him to my mother and feed the baby girl instead.

I find myself untensing a little, just as they bring Flora back in, she's asleep in the bed.. or maybe under too much anaesthetic to be awake, I stand up carefully, not wanting to disturb her eating.

"What are you going to call them love?" The midwife asks. I can't take my eyes away from Flora's sallow face, wanting her to wake up so I can show her how beautiful they are.

"I.. we couldn't decide, we thought we'd knew when we saw them.." I say, placing the tiny baby on my broad shoulder.

"Of course, sounds great, she should be awake within the hour.. just expect disorientation and let her nurse them and if the pain is bad we'll have to give her some more painkillers, but your little one's aren't going anywhere, take your sweet time with names alright my love?" The midwife says, her tone still empathetic. I nod with a gulp, Flora can call our baby Ariel for all I mind, as long as she's okay.