Harry Styles' Baby

Chapter Fourteen:

Author's Note: sorry about this being such a lame, cliché chapter. I ran out of ideas.:c

I was sitting on Harry’s couch, waiting for him to come out of the shower. We were going to plan Nikki’s birthday party today and thankfully, Marissa took Nikki and Zoey out for the day so it was just Harry and I. Chelsea and Niall were trying to figure something out between them which was amazing in my opinion.

It’s been almost 2 weeks since the world had found out about Harry and I which means two weeks of hate in my Twitter feed but also still some nice people. Harry told me not to read the hate but I had to, I tried not to but I couldn’t so I resorted to staying off Twitter but right now, I was bored so I grabbed my phone and got on Twitter.

Could you be any uglier?

Teen mom? Whore.

You're disgusting.

Harry deserves better.

Your daughter is hideous.

I saw tweets upon tweets of insults and I began crying and here comes Harry, he just had to come in at this moment and I knew he would be mad.

“Baby, why are you-“ he notices the phone in my hand and he snatches it from me, reading through the tweets, “Brooklyn! I told you to not read these!” he exclaims.

“It’s hard not to, Harry!” I tell him, standing up from the couch.

“Brooklyn, it isn’t that hard to ignore them!” he is beginning to raise his voice.

“Oh? Really? Care to remember the boy who said something along the lines of wishing he didn’t care what people thought but he just couldn’t?” I argue back and I see his face turn a little red in anger.

“That was when I was younger! New to this! I was sensitive!” he defends himself.

“And I’m not new to this?” I raise my voice to be a little louder than his, “I have never even been close to this amount of attention, Harry! You’re supposed to be helping me with this but you aren’t! You’re fucking yelling at me for it!” I shout, feeling my face go red too, “You just stand there and yell at me for reading my mentions! I didn’t think it was a damn crime to read them!” I exclaim, I begin to feel more tears running down my face in anger and sadness.

“I’m just trying to help you by telling you not to read your mentions!” Harry still has his voice raised but he isn’t completely shouting.

“We don’t have time to fight, Harry!” I shout.

“We don’t have time for a lot of things, do we?” I think he’s referring to the lack of sex in our relationship or even the lack of alone time.

“I’m sorry that we’ve got a 3 year old daughter, Harry! We can’t just fuck on the couch randomly like we used to do! You aren’t dating a normal 19 year old and I’m not dating a normal 20 year old! Everything we do in public is watched and everything we do at home has to be very private because of Nicole! It’s just how it is!”

“I know that’s how it is, Brooklyn! I know it’s different but we don’t seem to have time for shit, my work and your school and Nicole!”

“You know, your work seems to be an issue for us quite often,” I change my voice so it’s lower but much more harsh, remembering back to when Harry broke up with me, “Sorry I want an education and sorry we have a daughter,” I spat before walking past him and storming up the stairs, only to have him follow me.

“Brooklyn,” he groans, wrapping his long fingers around my wrist and turning me around, “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“And I’m sorry you don’t seem happy,” I tell him, my voice low and angry. I yank my wrist from his grip and go to the master bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking it.