Nora Dodson is a "fast-talking, F-bomb-dropping, born-and-bred New Yorker". Harry Styles is no longer a member of One Direction. He's lovely, kind and a very odd young man, though he's entirely unhappy in his relationship. But then he meets Nora an...
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Nora was halfway sitting up, halfway laying down on their king bed, watching the livestream of the Dunkirk premiere—the one she currently was not at—with a bowl of olive oil and sea salt popcorn sitting atop her protruding belly. She heard the footsteps coming up the stairs and as he walked in the room, she patted the bed beside her. "Well, isn't this a sight to see." Nora laughs as her brother lays down on the bed.
"I've missed you, Nicholas."
"I know, I'm sorry. Work has been keeping dad and me busy." He reaches into the bowl and takes a handful for himself.
"I called him a few days ago...I've barely seen him and he just sounded so..."
"Off?"
"Yeah. I could tell he was trying really hard to be...positive. But I could hear it—the sadness."
"He's burying himself in work, and I think it is good for him, you know? It's keeping his mind distracted."
"I'm pregnant with twins...I haven't even seen him since we found out." Nick moves to the empty side of the bed and mirrors Nora's position.
"Can I...?" She quickly puts the bowl down and her brother places his hand on her bump. He smiles as his palm flattens, comfortably. "There's really two of 'em in there?"
"Two little fetus-things, yep."
"Jesus, Nory." He scoots over and puts his ear close to her stomach. "I'm so happy for you, and I'm happy for me, because I'm a cool-ass uncle."
"They're going to love you."
"Are you excited?" Nora traces her fingertips along the stretched skin and she bites her lip.
"I want them right now, I just...I can't wait to meet them." They both sit there for a little while, just staring at their current living quarters.
"Hey, I didn't ask you, why aren't you at the premiere with Harry?"
"I had really bad morning sickness that lasted through late this afternoon...plus, I've been really moody and kind of grumpy this week. I didn't want to put a damper on Harry's big night."
"That's fair." He says, "But I'm sure he wishes you were there."
"I dunno...I know it was kind of selfish of me, but since I quit modeling...the media's been totally fucking obnoxious, and going to a premiere for a movie he's not even starring in, while girls stand around screaming—even though they're not actually watching it for it's historic value, nor for the other incredibly established actors—and photographers snap picture after picture of us...I just wasn't feeling it. I'm carrying twins, I can't walk in heels currently...it's just not the best time."
"What's the deal with the media?"
"They're just...the media. They're drama hungry vultures who don't know the meaning of personal space...one of them fucking followed me into one of my classes."
