Having Harry's Baby

Strange

   I woke with a jolt, my entire body shaking. I wrapped my arms around myself and closed my eyes. I just wanted to feel some warmth. Anything. And then I remembered. Images of Harry and I in the car came flooding back, choking me until the tears fell down my cheeks.
   I hesitantly ran my hand down to my stomach. Did my baby survive?
   I looked around me at the empty hospital room I was in. Alone. And then all I could do was wait for somebody, anybody, to walk in. I felt like a giant bruise. Absolutely every inch of my body ached.
   I didn't know how much time had passed before a nurse came in. "Oh, honey, you're awake."
   I can only stare at her. "Did my baby die?"
   My eyes follow her as she walks up to my side, ready to take my blood pressure and pulse. "Oh no, sweetheart. Your baby's just fine. Don't you worry."
   I nearly sighed in relief, but there was something else nagging in the back of my mind. "Harry. Where's Harry?"
   The nurse took my blood pressure and wrote on her clipboard. "He's with the doctor now. He's okay. You both got banged up something awful in that car accident you had."
   I rubbed a hand over my baby bump. I could hardly feel any relief. I knew we were all alive and we'd be alright soon, but it was still a shocking thought. We could have died. All of us.
   "Is he your boyfriend?" She asked, a sweet smile on her lips. "He's a good one, that one. Yes he is."
   I shook my head slowly. "No. He's my baby's father but we're not in a relationship."
   She nodded. "Well, if it weren't for that boy, you'd have died back in that car."
   My eyebrows pulled together instinctively and she noticed my confusion. "He saved your life. He shielded you from the impact, sweetheart. He blocked the airbag from hitting you straight on and then he pulled you out just before the car combusted into flames."
Sweetheart. That's what Harry had called me in the car before I passed out. I couldn't help but get teary-eyed. "I didn't know. Do you think you could find him for me?"
"Of course. As soon as I'm finished taking your vitals. I think they'll let the both of you leave tonight, after they get a cast on his arm, that is," she says as she shines a bright light to both my eyes.
"A cast?" I ask her.
She nods once. "Just a little fracture from when he protected you. It'll be off in a few weeks, probably."
I sighed in relief. She was sweet, the nurse. And she happened to know an awful lot about what happened.
I sat up a little straighter than before as I watched her write on her clipboard. "How long have we been here?"
She thought a moment before putting her pen down. "Two, maybe three hours."
I nodded comprehensively. She lingered a moment before clearing the room. She came in maybe twenty minutes later to tell me that they were tending to Harry's arm and she'd let me know when they were finished. I fell asleep at some point between then and when she walked in again.
"My shift is nearly over. But Harry's all finished up," she said, leaning over to remove the IV in my arm. "It's policy that we have you sign out, so that's what we're doing. The nurse is bringing a wheelchair."
   I shook my head. "I can walk."
   "I know, but it's policy, like I said. Harry called a friend to pick you both up. He's already arrived."
   I nodded, just going along with what she was saying. I'd never met any of Harry's friends, seeing as I'd just recently only met Harry himself, so I couldn't help but wonder who it would be.

It was the greatest relief when I finally got to see Harry. It seemed they'd also had him sit in a wheelchair. As soon as I saw him I shot up from my own, ignoring the aching in my limbs. He saw me just then and stood as well. We met somewhere in the middle.
  I wasn't planning on hugging him, but he certainly was as he pulled me to him with his good and bad arms. "I'm so sorry, Hazel. I'm sorry-"
   I pulled back abruptly. "Sorry? For what the heck? Saving my life?"
   He shook his head, his eyes tired and sad as he pulled me back into his arms. Well damn, is he touchy. "No. I wasn't driving responsibly. We crashed because-"
I felt myself become impatient and interrupted him again. The moment is over. "Because that moron invaded our lane, Harry. It's not your fault. We're fine."
I didn't want him to feel bad about what happened. It clearly hasn't been his fault. It bothered me so much that he'd actually think that way - that he'd feel he's responsible. I honestly have no patience for this man.
The look on his face was shocked, as if he hadn't at all expected my outburst. He released me slowly. "Okay. How do you feel?"
"I'm fine," I answered him. "Really. You're the one's who's beat up."
He smiled a half smile as he signed the papers the nurse at the desk handed him. "I'm fine."
"Well then we're good then," I said to him, sounding more rude than I should have. My guard was way up for some reason I didn't know to explain.
After several minutes, we finally walked out the double doors. I loved the feel of the fresh air that reached my lungs. I breathed it in and smiled. "So, who are we waiting for?"
"Zayn," he answered, looking down at his phone screen.
I didn't think before I spoke. I never did. "Am I supposed to know who that is?" I asked, with a little sting in my voice that I automatically regretted.
But Harry smiled anyway. "I forgot you don't listen to our music."
"No..."
"Okay. Well," he paused nervously. "he's a band mate."
I nodded once. "Does he know about..?"
"No. He doesn't."
I nodded again and decided to keep my mouth shut. This could not have been more awkward. I knew he felt the same way.
There was something different though, about the way he held himself together. He stood a little straighter and his eyes shone a little brighter. His hair looked perfect tucked behind his ears. What the hell am I doing?
I shook every single thought from my mind and stood there blankly, waiting. I'd thought the nurse had said he was already here to pick us up. Clearly this Zayn person had gone MIA.
   Harry looked down on me and turned to see me, his broken arm hanging in a sling against his chest. His eyes looked a little worried once they made contact with mine. "Zayn has a family," he told me, sighing nervously. "He knows what it's like. He's been through this before. An accident, just like us," he paused. "I think we should tell him."
   I looked back at him quietly, wondering what it was he wanted me to say. I didn't have a problem with anybody knowing what happened between Harry and I. Reputation or not, it didn't matter to me. I'd already told the people that mattered. But Harry seemed more afraid than I was about telling his friend.
   I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling sore as I moved, even just a little. "I don't mind, Harry."
   A dark van pulled up beside us, making Harry and I look simultaneously at the person in the driver's seat, leaning over to see us through the window. "Hey," he called toward us.
   Harry smiled apprehensively at me and then motioned toward the van. He opened the passenger's door for me, but I shook my head. I didn't feel comfortable sitting in the front. So he slid the back door open and I sat inside.
   Harry sat in the front. "Hey. Thanks for coming."
   Zayn smiled back at me through the mirror as he drove off.
   I smiled back at him. "I'm Hazel," I told him. "Hi."
   He was a handsome guy, especially when he smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Hazel. My name's Zayn."
I nodded once, afterward realizing he couldn't have seen me. "The pleasure is mine."
"Are you two alright?" He asked as he drove carefully, joining the highway.
Harry spoke up. "Yeah. I think I wrecked my car, though. I feel like the person of the other end of the crash isn't doing too well. No one would answer my questions when I asked..." He commented, sounding a bit more nervous by the second. "Besides that, I think we're all alright."
All. As in more than two people. Three. Harry needs to shut up if he's not planing to tell Zayn the truth right at the moment.
"Well, my wife Riley is cooking up some lunch if you'd like to join us, Hazel. She'd love to meet you," Zayn says, sneaking another look through the mirror.
Harry turned and smiled encouragingly, still evidently nervous. He just doesn't want to be alone when he tells Zayn.
"That sounds nice. Thanks," I answered him, feeling a little smaller by the moment. Now I was feeling the pressure.