Here We Stand [H.S]

126.

I scrambled back to Harry's bag, the zip unwillingly moving after I had rammed his book back inside.

Upon hearing his voice that was calling me, I was flustered, panicking and literally about to be busted.

The worst thing I wanted was for him to think I had been snooping- even though I technically had been -but it wasn't intentional, not like before.

What I had seen was obviously not for my eyes yet, even though his scribbling about our son made me cry hard now that I truly knew and understood how he felt about us losing Oscar.

"Izzy? Where the bloody hell are you-" he called out again.

The bedroom door swung open and I froze, closing my eyes because I knew he was behind me and I was literally about to be caught in the act.

"-there you are. Did you speak to Phoebe?" He asked quickly, "I've just checked my phone and Carol's gone mental and left loads of messages on my phone because there's a story going round that we're engaged and-"

He stopped, dead in his tracks.

"What's wrong, why are you crying?"

"I'm not." I lied, my hands trembling as they were still holding onto his bag; "I was just-"

"Why are you holding my bag?" He asked, "And you have been crying, I can tell. I've known you long enough to know when you've been crying, Iz-"

I couldn't tell him that I knew, he would never forgive me, especially after I promised I would ask to look in his book if I was ever tempted again.

Those songs, or unfinished pieces of drafted songs or lyrics were Harry's work of art, and I knew when he was ready he would share them with me- and I had stupidly taken that right away from him by not controlling myself or my curiosity.

Again.

"Why are you holding my bag?" He asked nervously, "Iz? Have you been in there?"

I nodded, unable not to.

"Did you- did you look in my book?" He asked slowly, the drawl of his accent becoming thicker the slower he talked.

I bit my lip, unable to look him in the eye before I realised that I had too in order for my little white lie to work.

"No." I retorted, "I remembered I hadn't taken the morning after pill yet, and I realised I put them in your bag so Gran wouldn't find it in mine. I took the pill, went to get rid of the packaging in your bag when I jammed my finger and now your stupid bag won't zip up!"

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

He's never going to believe you.

"It's not stupid, you're just not giving it a chance." He muttered, "I've had this bag years, never had a problem with it-" he said, zipping it up firmly before giving me a cocky smile; "See? A bit of patience, Izzy."

To be more playful, I stuck my tongue out at him and massaged my finger for good measure, hoping that he wouldn't ask to see it because then I really would be screwed.

Thankfully he didn't.

I'm a terrible liar at the best of times, and after this stunt I pulled, I reckon I was on the drawing board for best bloody actress at the Oscars next year.

"So, um.... Carol's gone mental then?" I asked awkwardly, shutting the door behind me as I followed him down the hallway.

"Yeah, she's on the case right now and putting out a statement on our behalf." Harry replied, "But she did ask a lot of questions about the ring, Iz-"