Self-Titled [Completed]

Kiwi

She was his angel, pulling him away from the darkness he once feared but learned to live with. He saw her as nothing less, nor would he ever. His expressions of love still frightened her but she learned to swallow her pride and enjoy the feeling; the high it gave. They both finally felt completely liberated from the chains of the hospital. The only good the building ever did was bring them together. Their ghosts were left in the shadows, the only remembrance of them being when they would contact Louis, who they planned to go back and visit.

It was all until her stomach was constantly unsettled, living in a recurring state of nausea. Each morning was the same events of waking with a cold sweat, throwing Harry's arm away from her torso to rush to the bathroom. It wasn't every morning that she would empty the last contents of dinner from the night before, but as the weeks progressed, it was more often than not.

Due to her fear, she purchased tests in secret. Harry worried about his love's well-being. He hated seeing her miserable and anxious from the unknown. They both feared the worst, she just happened to secretly take action into her own dainty hands.

So here she awaited nervously, alone in the hotel room while Harry was in the shower. The minutes ticked by slower than a damned slug could crawl. Everything about her future depended on this result; a result which made her heart plummet to the center of the Earth.

Positive.

With a sigh and teary eyes, she shut her lids and she thought about the consequences. How could she do this? How does she do this? Can she do this? Every aspect of her future rested in her hands at this very moment. She was running out of time to think and decide. So she did the only thing she knew how to do. Tightly clutching onto her test, she left Harry a quick note saying she was going down to the lobby for fresh towels.

Once down there, she disposed of the test. She couldn't tell Harry even though she knew she had to, she couldn't bring herself to do so.

"Excuse me," her frail voice asked the front desk woman, "is there a phone I could borrow?"

"Yes, there's one right over there in the corner," she replied with a smile. She gave her thanks and proceeded to the line.

She knew she had to make this quick and straight to the point. With a quivering breath, she picked up the phone, holding it to her ear and listening to the dial tone for a moment before her brain kicked in. Her shaking fingers made quick work to dial the only number she'd ever known by heart, listening to it ring.

"Malik," the man's voice she genuinely missed answered.

"Zayn?" she asked, knowing full well who she dialed.

"Well I'll be damned," Zayn chimed. "Was wondering how long it'd take you to call since you broke out."

"I have to make this fast because he's upstairs. But it's important."

"What's going on, sweetheart?"

"Where are you?"

"Well, that depends. Where are you and how fast do you need me?" She sighed, closing her eyes before turning around and quickly scanning the lobby to make sure Harry wasn't looking for her.

"California, and as soon as possible."

"I can make it work. What's troubling you, babe?"

"Zayn, I'm pregnant."

He was silent for a moment. She knew him well enough to know his eyebrows were raised on his side of the line.

"You said as soon as possible?" he questioned, confirming her earlier requests.