Hold My Girl

Chapter 17

March
33 Weeks

Apart from Harry's soft snores I woke up to the sound of silence, which doesn't happen very often in London. Quite like New York, it's a city that never sleeps. So no matter the time, I can always here traffic and voices from the pavement. We're so far out in the country here, I can't hear a thing.

I regularly wake up sweating because most mornings I could liken my body temperature to that of the sun. This morning, I think it has more to do with the radiator like creature lying draped over me. I always assumed Harry would be the little spoon, I can imagine he likes the feeling of being cradled and held. I can now a-testify that he makes a pretty decent big spoon.

As usual I wake up with my hands clasped under my cheek and the heat source has his chest pressed tight against my back and his arm wrapped round my middle, his hand holding his baby gently.

I wince slightly as said baby starts his or her morning gymnastics routine. Despite the fact he's still snoring away behind me, I shift Harry's hand lower, so it's covering the area where there's a foot or an arm sporadically fighting to get out.

I lie for a moment, just appreciating the miracle of feeling my baby move, knowing that it's only a matter of weeks until I finally get to meet whoever this little baby is.

I hear Harry's breathing shift as he takes a sharp intake of breath through his nose. His hand shifts slightly so his palm is over where the kick came last and he waits in sleepy silence for the movement to come again.

"Good morning baby" He coo's and for a moment my heart constricts, as I think the endearment's directed at me but it's almost just as sweet that it's directed at our unborn child.

"Morning Daddy" I smile quietly.

Harry lets out another small laugh. "Good morning beautiful" He hugs me tighter before I feel like he realises that this early morning affection is falling in to dangerous territory and removes his arm from around my torso. It gives me a good excuse to go to the toilet and avoid trying to maneover this awakard conversation.

When I come back from the bathroom, I find Harry in the same position as I left him so I get back into bed and under the covers. Seeing as he hasn't made a mad dash to separate our close proximity.

"This is nice" I smile as I turn to face Harry.

"Mmmm?" He asks as his eyes flutter open.

"This peace and quiet" I mumble as my hand twitches to fix a lock of his chestnut hair that's fallen over his face. I give in to temptation and gently push my fingers through his hair, combing the lock in the messy mop on top of his head.

He watches me intently as I pull my hand back to my chest, tucking it under my shoulder to deter the urge to touch him.

'It's a nice bit up here" Harry sighs contently. "If life was different, I'd love to raise a child here"

His eyes glaze over, clearly deep in thought.

"Do you ever wish it was different?" I watch as his gaze flicks to mine, a wave of confusion passes over his face, so I clarify. "Do you ever wish your life had turned out differently? That you weren't famous and you had the luxury to raise your child wherever you wanted"

His gaze never leaves mine but I can see him thinking. "It's too difficult a question to answer" He admits as he lets out a sigh that I feel fan across my face.

"Sometimes, especially in recent months I've found myself wondering what my life would be like if I'd stayed in school and never auditioned for the X-Factor. Yeah I might have more privacy, people wouldn't want to know every detail of my private life, I could chose to raise my child in whatever city or state I wanted..." His voice trails off but his eyes never leave me.