You'd woken up beside people before. There was only one time when you didn't even know who was in bed beside you, but there were countless times when you didn't really remember how you met or what had happened.
This time, the memories were clear and the night before hadn't ended in a faded, blurry, mess. You cried when he kissed you–and that was definitely a first. Was it that bad? He'd joked, pulling you into his chest.
But it wasn't. It felt right and reassuring and the excitement that coursed through you outweighed the anxiety that seemed to flutter through your thoughts that morning.
What did it mean? What did he think? Why did it happen?
He kissed you again after you pulled away, tears on your cheeks in an embarrassing rush of emotion. But you rolled your eyes at his jokes, sat beside him on the couch and kissed him again. When you asked him to stay the night he smiled, crawled under the sheets, and let his arms wrap around you when you told him about the tree in your backyard growing up. You stared at the ceiling and listened to him talk about London and his father and the way he wished some things in life had gone.
But you rolled over now, stealing a glance at the boy beside you in bed. So maybe that was it. Maybe you weren't as nervous as you'd been in times past because there hadn't been any alcohol and you hadn't said anything fueled by drunken emotion.
In fact, you didn't say much at all. At least, not about the fact that he'd kissed you and the fact that you kissed him back and you certainly didn't acknowledge that maybe him sleeping in your bed meant something.
"Morning," he said suddenly, pulling your gaze from the fan overhead. You peered sideways, only inches from his face.
"Hi."
"How'd you sleep?"
"It's kind of cramped in here with someone else."
He let out a sleepy laugh, "you kind of sleep diagonally, so–"
"You basically sleep spread eagle."
His eyes bugged open at that. "I do not!"
"Shhh," you reached over to poke him. "Lexi's probably awake and I don't know about you but I am nowhere near ready to face her."
He flashed a smirk in your direction, "gonna keep me a secret?"
"You're the one who got me pregnant and who has a team of publicity professionals currently keeping me a secret."
He lifted himself onto his elbows, made a silly face at that. "Yeah–I'm the bigger asshole, there, huh?"
You heard footsteps in the living room, held your breath for a second until Lexi knocked on the door. You shot him a quick look as you climbed out of bed, eyes narrowed as if to threaten him with a mere glance. He held back a laugh, pulling his thumb and forefinger past his lips, promising they were zipped.
You padded towards the door with bare feet, hand twisting the knob to open it a crack, head sticking out to greet your makeup-less roommate. "Morning, what's up?"
"I'm gonna go grab some breaky from Fin's. You want anything?"
"No," you said quickly. "I don't feel well," you shut the door in her face, hoping she wouldn't push you anymore or get too nosy. She'd learned now that morning was your worst time for nausea. If you were going to puke it was going to be then. You were best off left alone.
When you turned around, Harry's jaw hung towards the floor. He motioned quickly, arms flailed out to the sides and his shoulders hunched up to his ears. You rolled your eyes, turned back to the door, and opened it. Lexi was exactly where you'd left her, eyes wide and expectant when she saw your sheepish smile.

YOU ARE READING
UNPLANNED
FanfictionYou've always done things the way you were supposed to. On time, in order, and with a fair amount of preparation. But nothing could have prepared you for something as unplanned as this. Especially when Harry Styles is involved.