69: five days until paris.

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^ that's Wendy. Imagine her hair like this and at this length but without the nose ring.
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(A SMALL CONTINUATION OF THE LAST CHAPTER . . .)

"Hey baby, you feeling okay?" Harry whispered, sitting his bottom at the edge of the couch as I lay across it. My eyes fluttered open and shut as I yawned. I had gotten back from seeing Wendy almost two hours ago, and had fallen straight to sleep the second I lay down. I didn't even hear Harry come in. "Sophia text saying you didn't food shop online, so I went to get stuff that's why I'm a little late home."

"Sorry! I completely spaced!" I sighed, slapping my forehead with my hand. He grasped my hand and placed it in his lap, toying with my fingers as he glanced sideways towards me.

"I figured you would've, so I was going to just go shopping myself anyway," he chuckled. "When did Sophia leave?"

"A few hours ago, I just wanted to sleep," I said. It was true, I was tired, I just happened to leave out a very big detail. The big detail being there might be a small child in my stomach right now. I had to pretend I was fine, I didn't want him to ask questions, I didn't need him finding out the truth when I wasn't sure if it was the truth anyway. "How was your day?"

"Good," he shrugged, his hand trailing over my covered thigh before he leaned down to kiss my cheek. "I'm gonna go put the shopping away, can't have the frozen stuff melting can we," he laughed.

I let go of his hand allowing him to leave, I felt a little panicked knowing the two sticks weren't so easily hidden. I mean sure, he doesn't go in that drawer, but I shouldn't act so careless with such items. I sat up, much to my surprise I didn't feel as sick as I had been all day, I mean I still felt a little nauseous, but I think that's because I still don't know if I'm actually pregnant or not. I just had to get two pregnancy tests that came out negative and positive. Just my fucking luck honestly.

I entered the kitchen, watching Harry move back and forth from bag to cupboard, a bag of fresh food sat on the counter to be stored away in the fridge. I grabbed the bag and began unloading it, Harry glanced my way. He wanted to argue that I should be resting, but I know he can see the heat in my cheeks and the fact my skin isn't such a gross pale colour anymore.

Harry's always been quite a healthy guy, he tends not to stuff his face with salty and sugary snacks like I do, so I wasn't surprised that the two drawers we have for fruit and vegetables filled up quickly and I had to rest the last of the veg on another shelf. Thankfully, Harry doesn't care about me following his dietary plans so he buys crappy food and puts it in my own cupboard. Which very rarely, I do see him opening and taking something out for himself.

The pitter patter of rain against the window made me look outside, I didn't even realise it had been raining. The sun was so warm earlier, British weather is the worst.

"How long has it been raining for?" I asked quietly. Closing the fridge and stuffing the plastic bag into a larger plastic bag. We like to store our bags from the shop so we can reuse them instead of paying for new ones, we leave half in the house and half in Harry's car boot so we always have them with us.

"It started when I was unloading the shopping from the car," he replied, his back to me as he began putting the frozen items into the freezer. "That's the last bag," he said suddenly, pointing to a bag on the floor. "It's for the downstairs bathroom."

Because we barely ever use the upstairs bathroom, all of the items up there are still practically full. Whereas downstairs, not so much. I'm thankful he's made me put this away, I can't risk him finding those sticks. I doubt he would, but you never know.

I exited the kitchen and headed for the bathroom, placing the bag on the counter as I unloaded it and put the items in their designated places. Once I was done I joined Harry in the kitchen, he had a pot and wooden spoon out, along with different ingredients for food.

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