GREEN (RL Harry Styles fanfic)

48. Flat Black

After an hour or so of teary revelations, I was left feeling surprisingly calm. Just as Harry had told me, that night he first spoke so openly about his desire to have a child, I didn't have any fear about the situation. It felt right to me.

Now my only thought was when and how to tell Harry, and on that I hadn't yet made up my mind. I was torn between a few options. First, I pondered just telling him the next time we spoke, but I felt a decision like this deserved more than that. Second, was to let it come out naturally, when the moment seemed right. And lastly, the method I was most leaning towards, was telling him in person when he came back to LA next month. I wanted to tell Harry how I felt with him here with me. I wanted to see the expression on his face and wrap my arms around him. I wanted to make sure he knew I meant it, not just by my words, but also by my body. The only problem was, now that my mind was made up I felt like I was bursting not sharing the news with him now.

I distracted myself with the meticulous work of flats and specs for my collection, the detailed drawings of each garment used to produce them. It was something I enjoyed, even though it was usually delegated out by most designers. I liked the precise and technical aspect of it because my logical side enjoyed the fact that there was simply one way to do it. Being an ambidextrous libra, I had always been a balance of creative and logical. My creative skills were all done with my left hand, yet with skilled tasks I used my right. The balance wasn't just evident physically, but also in my mind. I enjoyed the freedom of designing and sketching, but still craved the structure of calculations and the technical aspects. This double mindset was a blessing, because I found that I was good at multiple things. However, it was also a curse because my mind would struggle between logic and following my gut. It's why I was always overthinking. It's why my arms were tattooed with polar opposite reminders. It was why I had pushed down my feelings about having Harry's child, and why they had come back up on their own.

As I lined up my ruler and steadied my hand to ink the next line of the last of my flats the table vibrated.

"Fuck!," I yelled aloud to an empty house. I was annoyed, and a bit of panicked thinking it may have been an earthquake.

It was only my phone, but the unexpected text had startled me enough to send my hand off course and rendered my flat useless with black ink strewn across the page. I tossed my pen aside and looked to see who was responsible for my fuck up.

Hey babe. Can you skype? ;)

The text from Harry was probably the only thing that could wash away my frustration instantly. My scowl shifted to a sideways smirk as I typed up a reply.

Of course. Give me a minute.

I quickly abandoned my work and scurried into the bedroom with my laptop. I placed it on the foot of the bed and lied down on my stomach, my feet up behind me near the headboard. I signed in to Skype and found Harry already logged on. I didn't even have a chance to call him because he had already requested a video chat with me.

Harry's face appeared, beaming back at me. His hair was down and swept back off his face loosely. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, shirtless, and the image conjured up thoughts of all the time I'd spent with him on that bed in a similar state of undress.

"Eager are we baby?," I teased with a chuckle and a smile to match his. Harry's cheeks began to blush.

"What? I can't be excited to see my girlfriend?" His smirk still present.