fight for us ↠ harry styles [b2] ✓

CHAPTER 7

7—Renleigh Kensington

I slept in.

I managed to fucking sleep in on the day of my show.

I had literally the rest of the weekend to sleep in and I was awake on time every other day but when I needed to be, I wasn't. Don't get me wrong, I didn't miss the whole thing and there was still three hours for me to get it together. But when I have something planned and things don't go the way they should, I get angry at myself more than at anything else.

On the other hand, Harry was chilling. He was still sleeping when I was sitting on a chair in front of the full-length mirror with my makeup all over the place as I was getting ready. I sat in the bath for an hour after I woke up because I just couldn't handle the pain in my back. Being in the water made me float a bit and it felt nice. Also, I sat on a chair because if I weighed down on my stomach too much, it felt uncomfortable.

I was only six months along but it felt like the eleventh month of me being knocked up. Safe to say, I couldn't wait to push this watermelon out of me but then came the part where I had to raise it to become a decent human being. The stress that simple thought gave me was unreal and although Harry was going to be there—or at least he better have had that plan—I knew that I would try to do everything on my own, anyway.

Ever since we found out I was actually pregnant, I felt like I had to change as a person. In some ways, I felt childish, I didn't feel like I was ready for something like this. But there was no time to prepare, no chance to back out which meant I had to suck it up and change the way I acted.

And I knew I was on the right path because of Harry. It wasn't that he pointed things out but he was human so there were times when he couldn't control the way his face changed with the emotions he felt. I don't know if he knew but I noticed those changes and they encouraged me to do more things differently so I could see that expression more often.

Then my phone beeped.

And then beeped again.

And then a third time.

"What the fuck..." I mumbled as I leaned over to the shelf and picked it up. "What the fuck?" I repeated the same words from before although this time, it was in a more confused tone when I saw why my phone went off.

Harry turned his notifications on for me.

Yep.

I hated it because he posted on his fucking story way too much so my phone never had the chance to rest. I didn't even know how he had the time to do it, honestly. It was always something stupid as well and it probably only made him laugh.

Well, that's a lie.

His Instagram stories were probably the funniest of all the people I followed. That was probably because ninety-nine percent of the time those stories were of me and I was just a naturally funny individual.

So, surprise-no surprise, when I opened the notifications, I was oh so honoured to find myself on the screen of my phone. The only thing you could hear was the soft sounds of the quilt moving and Harry's breathing then my humming. You could also clearly see me dancing to myself a little as I sat on the chair but then stopped when I leaned closer to the mirror and did my makeup.

The lighting was horrendous since the blinds were down and the light from the bathroom as well as my little ring light was all that brightened up the room. I shook my head before I locked my phone and got back to my makeup.

"You seriously need to start paying me for all the times you film me like that," I mumbled loud enough so he could hear but quiet enough so I could focus on what I was doing. I'm not going to lie, I was getting so good at doing my own makeup. My contour technique and highlight were so good at this point that I could have started my own business doing others' looks.