The Weeks Between • HS

Week 12 • Nola *

*** A/N: Make sure you have read Week 12: Sunday- Nola before this one. The update didn't post.

This is another long one. I think the final word count is close to 8,500 words. So, get comfortable.

I fell asleep in Harry's arms but I can't tell you when, exactly, I fell asleep. It was long after Harry's body stilled beneath me. First, the musings of his raspy voice became more infrequent until they finally stopped. Then, his hand stopped mindlessly weaving its way through my hair and eventually fell to rest over my shoulder. Finally, his breathing slowed and his whole body softened completely, in the way that only sleep can soften Harry's taught muscles.

Harry doesn't like to just sleep in the same bed as me. He wants to be touching me at all times. That normally annoys the shit our of me, but because we don't have the option to do it every night, and I know it wont last forever, I give in to him more than I have ever given in to anyone else where touching while sleeping is concerned. Plus, there are still moments when I am laying in his arms and I allow myself to have a tiny internal freakout. You know, the whole 'Harry Styles is in bed with me' type of freakout, and in those moments I realize that even on his most annoying days there are literally a million women would be thrilled to take my place.

When I do finally drift off to sleep, my body wakes me up with an entirely different reminder. My breasts are painfully engorged and I am not interested in saturating his ridiculously expensive vintage t-shirt with breastmilk. So, I slink out of his arms and quickly replace my body with a pillow, which he hugs tightly my, smiling in his sleep.

I struggle to turn on the lamp for a few minutes, but then realize that it is sinked with a switch on the wall. Once the lamp is illuminating the small corner of the living room with a comfy leather chair, I take out my breast pump and situate myself beneath a blanket, stripping off Harry's shirt and sitting in nothing but the blanket as I pump.

Harry emerges from the bedroom, pulling on a pair of briefs as he shuffles into the living room. "Nol?" he asks, squinting his eyes to focus on me in the chair in the corner of the room. He walks over to find me, holding the pump pieces, one in each hand, having not grabbed a bra to hold things in place. He runs his hand over my back and kisses the top of my head. "Can I get you anything?"

"Water. Always water," I answer and he walks to the kitchen, returning with a tall glass of water for me and one for him. I look at it lonely, but realize I have no free hands, so hydration will have to wait a few minutes. He sits on the floor in front of me, bending his legs up so that he is sitting cross-cross. He reaches for my feet from underneath the blanket and pulls them onto his lap to massage.

"So, how long do you pump for?" he asks as his fingers work over my feet.

"Like twenty minutes?"

"No, how long as in like months. How long until you stop all together?"

"Well, I made it a year with the twins, but then they both weaned around then. Lottie first, then Mia."

"A year. That is a huge commitment." He says, having now seen how much of my day I spend with something or someone connected to my breasts.

"Yeah. Hopefully Hattie will stop teething, so my supply will go down at night and I won't have I wake up to pump if she doesn't wake me. Until then, this is where you will find me sometime between 2am and 3am," I tell him, as I situate myself in the chair, looking at the water.

"I'm sorry. I don't even think about the fact that you don't have any free hands. Hold on." Harry leaves the room and comes back from the kitchen with a straw, obviously belonging to something else, but I don't care. He holds the glass and I drink down the water to nothing, so he hands me what's left of his glass to finish and she shakes his head with a chuckle.