Nora Dodson is a "fast-talking, F-bomb-dropping, born-and-bred New Yorker". Harry Styles is no longer a member of One Direction. He's lovely, kind and a very odd young man, though he's entirely unhappy in his relationship. But then he meets Nora an...
Nora laid, belly-down on the bed as she watched Harry pack. She didn't want him to go, even for a measly five days. She'd barely recovered from their last eight and a half weeks of separation. "I have anxiety, you know."
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"Separation anxiety?" He smirks down at her, teasingly.
"Yes!" She sits up on her knees and he lets her wrap her arms around his shoulders. "It may not be clinically diagnosed, but I know I have it...I can feel it welling up inside of me."
"The thought of me leaving pains you?"
"It totally pains me." He nudges her head aside to gain access to her neck. His lips linger on the nape and she shudders.
"These next few days...once I'm back home, the album will be finished...rather, I will be no longer needed for it's completion."
"So..."
"So, I'll be all yours, Ms. Dodson."
"That...is music to my ears." Nora's face suddenly falls and her hand rushes to her stomach. "Fuck..." She stumbles off the bed, and though Harry's concerned, there's a slight hint of hope in his mind. "What the fuck did we eat today...was it the Thai?" Just as the words left her mouth, she wretched and it echoed in the porcelain bowl. Harry quickly knelt down behind her and gathered her blonde tresses. Again, she heaved what was in her stomach from that day—it happened to be coconut peanut curry. "Don't look, please don't look, Harry...this is fucking gross." He chuckles, continuing to hold her hair away.
"Shush up, you...we're getting married, remember?" Nora groans. "Do you wanna take a test?"
"I will, once I'm finished hacking, honey." Her passive aggressive tone only makes Harry chuckle harder.
"Alright, alright." Finally, after about half a minute, she wipes at her mouth and goes to her sink to brush her teeth.
"Do you think...? No, I don't want to get my hopes up..." Harry reaches underneath the cabinet and pulls out one of the many at-home tests that he ordered online. He hands it to her and she has a look of fear and hope in her eyes.
"I'm right here, lovely." He leans against the counter as she pulls her sweat-shorts down her long legs. She struggles to get the liquid flowing but then it's on the stick and she caps it quickly.
"I've turned into a fucking p-test pro." Harry sets his timer to three and a half minutes, just in case, and they both leave the bathroom. Harry sits on the bed, while Nora paces around their room. "Three minutes is too fucking long."
"Hey, relax, angel. We're almost there..." After what feels like an eternity, the bell tower jingle goes off and they both seemingly freeze.
"You look at it...I'm too nervous—oh my god, I'm so fucking nervous!" Harry nods and walks into their master bathroom. He pokes his head out quickly.
