Spotted [h.s]

Thirty three

Harry's POV.

"You told her what?" Zayn stares at me, the look of disbelief clear on his face. He's mad, and he has every reason to.

I completely fucked up this time.

Why would I say something like that? Lie about infertility?

Maybe because I'm a dick. And I couldn't think of anything else.

"It was the first thing that came to my mind. You know how I am, Zay--"

"Are you fucking nuts Harry? You do know that you've lied, and if I may add,that's a terrible, terrible lie! I can't belie--how could you say something like that? What were you looking for, sympathy?!"

"Listen, I was trying to calm her down. I freaked out too..I just...I didn't know what to say,"

"SHE IS GOING TO GET PREGNANT, HARRY, DO YOU KNOW HOW SERIOUS THIS IS? THIS WILL NOT ONLY RUIN YOUR LIFE, BUT IT WILL RUIN HERS TOO!" He's so angry that for a second, I think he might hit me.

"You go, you go tell her the god-damn truth, and you take her to the doctor - tell her to take pills, whatever, do it before it's too late. We cannot afford this right now, not at this point... I can't believe what an asshole you are, Harry--"

"I know I've fucked up. She's going to kill me... I don't want to lose her, not yet."

"What do you mean by not yet? I won't blame her if she decides to never talk to you again, that was a dick - move, Styles, that's what it was." He stares at me like I'm the biggest fucked up human alive and it's the scariest thing I've seen in a while.

"I just can't believe you forgot to use a condom, don't you have like five hundred of them in your car?"

"God,no,"

"You're an asshole. And you're going to hurt her feelings, and I pity you, Harry, she doesn't deserve it. No fan deserves this, nobody does,"

"I'll do something, I'll figure it out, "

"Yeah, good - fucking luck with figuring that out." He says and leaves the room.

I've ruined everything, and I'm aware that I have.

I don't know what to say to her..If she gets pregnant, that's going to ruin me, and that's not something I need in my life right now.

I've had enough of the fucking paparazzi ruining everything, and this is something I'm not giving up on,

I'm not giving up on her, not so soon.

Monday rolled into Tuesday, which rolled into Friday in a heartbeat.The week came to an end.

I had completely shut her off for five days, and considering I couldn't stand not being without her, I don't know how I managed that.

I couldn't bear not seeing her face for so long, it was killing me, but I was a coward, that's exactly what I was, a coward, and nothing more.

She was probably going to think of me as someone who used her, that's what her texts seemed like, to me.

She texted me fifty - one times in one week, and all I did was ignore her. I didn't reply to a single text, I didn't return any of her calls, didn't even leave the house for the entire week, too scared of running into her.

I hated myself for lying to her, this was...This was bad. This was too low, for anyone.

Klinefelter Syndrome? What the fuck was I thinking?

My phone buzzed for the fifth time today. I knew it was her, and I knew that I had to talk to her. This was unfair, to us both.

"Harry, what's wrong? Did I..did I do something? Is something wrong with me...? I really need to see you, it's been a week.."