sick (one shot)
in which Y/N thinks Harry is cheating on her...
In this part: lovesick harry, he's lowkey obsessed with her, he gets sick lol and y/n helps him through, classic ending miscommunication sorting out scene. fluff and angst.
note: this story is a kind of exploration of the cheating trope but specifically when one person in a relationship is suspicious of the other. It's not the typical fluffy/angsty fic and is mostly about Y/N working through her thoughts about Harry's supposed infidelity, and how when you doubt something you can sometimes craft narratives in your head that might not be true. It's a story about insecurity and loneliness, how your dynamics in a relationship can change, mixed in with bits of Harry and Y/N being in love.
Inspirations: the main character of Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, own experiences with being sus of people cheating lol
word count: 5.6k
Y/N couldn't say how the notion had really come into her head. In all the stories she knew of other people, it mostly started with finding texts in his phone to someone else. Someone suspicious, maybe saved with the name of an old friend who she knew for a fact he had fallen out with. The deleted chat - mysterious because none of the other text channels were ever cleared.
But for Y/N, the texts were definitely not the beginning. She thought it was simply paranoia of moving to a new city. Harry had bought them both to London, which is where he wanted to record most of his work for a bit, and Y/N worked in a magazine remotely so it wasn't an issue for her. She'd been reluctant but Harry had been reduced to begging. And she gave in - not because she couldn't make her own decisions - but simply because she loved him, and he loved her just as much, if not more.
Their life in London was wonderful. He showed her around with the enthusiasm of a little child, and they kissed outside each time they could, even with Harry's eyes perpetually skeptic of cameras around. Y/N loved it, and while Harry was at work in the studio he never let her feel like she was alone in the city.
Every afternoon, just as she was leaving her desk to get lunch, her phone would chime with a text from him. A picture; a lyric; his face. I miss you. I hate being away. Come and steal me, please.
Y/N would say something like: stop being a whiny baby, or work hard and I'll kiss you good.
Then he would come home, lunge for her on the couch and scoop her up in his arms, her face pressed into his shoulder. Y/N was quite literally being smothered by his love. It was everywhere. It was Mitch nudging Harry in the shoulder one night at drinks, saying "Can you drop the stare? She's already yours," helping her realise that he was making yearning, soft eyes at her the entire time she was talking. It was him buying raspberry flavoured everything and eating it with her even though she knew he wasn't the biggest fan.
She believed it started like this: a message from him that he would be home in two hours, Y/N reading on the couch after dinner, thinking she would wait up for him.
But the sweetness of sleep took her over, and before she knew it she was dozed off on the couch with her book lying open on her stomach. She didn't know how long it had been, but the next time she was aware Y/N opened her eyes to find herself lying in her bed, covers drawn over her, book on her table by the side. Softly she heard Harry's voice from somewhere outside. He was on the phone, because his words were soft and whispered. Y/N sat up, excited to see him, but then she comprehended his words.
"Oh, baby girl," he said in a sort of hushed, fond tone, which made Y/N's heart almost stop. It was exactly how he sometimes spoke to her. "So beautiful."
Y/N didn't let her mind wander elsewhere, didn't let it think of the hundreds of possibilities. She was just being delusional. It was just... maybe he was looking at some pictures. He could be talking to his sister. Some friend of his. Sometimes guys spoke to their friends in a flirty way, right? Just like how Y/N was always calling her friends sexy. Maybe he had some women friends in his studio. And Y/N told herself she would never be the girlfriend who didn't let her man have any friends who were not, well, men. Also Harry had never proven her wrong. He had plenty of friends who were women making big names for themselves in the music industry. Y/N knew that Harry regarded them with admiration and respect, and had never had reason to be jealous.
Harry made a soft sound as he walked around the house, making his way to her room. Y/N immediately lay down again and closed her eyes. Everything would make sense in the morning. She was simply being paranoid.
She felt him close to her, his body hovering over hers, and then his lips on her hot skin. Y/N almost sighed. Nobody would come and kiss their sleeping girlfriend on her forehead after speaking to their... she didn't even want to think it.
Soon she felt Harry turn her around and curl up around her, pressing his face into her neck and inhaling. Y/N really did feel like he was breathing in all the insecurity from her. She blocked it completely from her mind and didn't think of it again.
*****
A week passed, and then two, and then a month. Sometimes, Y/N would feel stupid for ever thinking that her wonderful Harry could do anything but love and dote on her. For example, all the times when he was practically lovesick, gazing at her while she talked as if she'd hung the moon, and then someone would have to nudge him to bring him back to reality.
But there were moments of doubt too. Like when he started spending entire days at the studio, saying that he was feeling super inspired. Y/N really had no way of knowing if he was actually there. She could ask Mitch or Sarah, but just imagining their faces when telling them she thought Harry was cheating on her made her feel sick.
He was on his phone a lot too. And always texting. The issue was: Y/N knew if she asked him to let her go through his phone he wouldn't say no. Or well, the Harry who wasn't cheating on her wouldn't. They had built a sort of intrinsic trust that Y/N felt very guilty about breaking, but she needed to know. She needed to know otherwise she would go insane.
But he literally never left his phone alone. There were no more phone calls that she knew of, but she was simply itching to go to his messages.
One day, one of those weeks when things were in a weird state with Harry, Y/N had just gotten back from a rare, in-person meeting of colleagues who were in the city. The rain had started pelting down heavily, and she ran home. A stupid mistake, really, to not have carried an umbrella. She really didn't think anyone would be home, because that's how it had become for the last two weeks, really. Harry would come and go as he pleased, and would catch hold of her in midst of leaving or having just come back, placing kisses along her neck and jaw, and no matter how much Y/N planned to confront him, she always melted in that moment. So she started avoiding him too. Leaving for her morning jog just before he had to leave, or staying out with friends and coming back only when she knew he was asleep.
Y/N removed her heels near the door, and shook open her hair as she stepped inside, throwing open her drenched coat and hanging it by the door. Suddenly, a low whimper came from inside.
Y/N froze. It didn't sound immediately sexual, or even female. She followed along the hallway, footsteps silent, until she could see the edge of the door to the room they practically shared. Surprisingly, it was fully open. No visible signs of anyone else other than, well, him. His shoes lay haphazardly at the entrance. Y/N noticed the dampness on them, and then a surge of panic ran through her.
She inched forward until she had a clear view of the insides of the room. All she could really see was a big lump on the bed. Y/N frowned and went inside the room. She could see the top of his hair peeking out from under the covers, but otherwise he was fully burrowed into them. His breathing made the stack of duvets he'd piled on himself move up and down.
"Harry?" Y/N asked gently, concern lacing her voice.
Harry stirred. Another whine. It was like a dam of worry broke inside her. Y/N immediately rushed to his side and knelt beside him. His face was partially covered, but she could see his eyes clenched shut, forehead furrowed. He was slightly trembling. His hair was wet, and Y/N connected the dots.
"God, Harry, did you get caught in the rain?"
His eyes opened, and Y/N's heart pained. He nodded slightly. "So cold," he stuttered.
Y/N reached out a hand out to check his temperature, and sure as hell, he had a fever. How long had he been lying here shivering? Y/N winced. He was always very sensitive to the rain. Just a bit of it and he always got sick.
"Did you even change your clothes?" Y/N asked.
Harry didn't respond. he simply raised his head slightly and motioned downwards. "Will you get in with me? Please?" he whispered hoarsely.
"Baby," Y/n replied. She put her face closer to his and ran a hand through his hair. "Can we please get you into dry clothes?"
His curls stuck to his forehead as he wiggled his head slightly out of the cover of the duvets, leaning into her touch. "I don't want to move," he groaned.
"I know," she cooed. "But if you change into warm clothes, I'll come in with you. Does that sound good?"
Harry perked up, like a dog who had just seen its owner. He nodded, and Y/N's hand slipped down from his hair to his cheek, stroking gently. He turned his face sideways, cheeks flushed, and kissed her palm. Even his lips were burning.
Y/N coaxed him out, even though he shivered all the while. She put him in nice, warm clothes and put socks on his feet. Harry groaned and whined through most of it, but Y/N huffed out a laugh. "Whiny, little baby," she said to him, as she piled the duvet's back over him, his hair nice and dry.
She leaned to kiss his cheek, and Harry hummed. He was so tired, half asleep, almost. Y/N turned to get some fever medicine, but Harry caught her hand.
"No," he groaned. "Won't you stay with me?"
Y/N looked at his pouting face, and smiled gently. "If you'll have your medicine. Then we can sleep." The thought of sleep must have sounded good to him, because he let her go.
They kept medicine in the room that had Y/N's stuff, on the other end of the hallway. As Y/N passed the hall, she saw Harry's phone on the table, and stopped in her tracks.
God, how pathetic was she? He was currently burning up with a fever and she wanted to snoop. Y/N really couldn't stop herself. She picked his phone up. The first sting to the heart was his wallpaper, which was a photo of her from their first year of dating. The second was the number of messages he had from someone called G. Y/N unlocked his phone, opening his messaging app.
Who the hell was G?
The app opened to a lock screen. Enter password to access messages.
Y/N frowned. What the fuck? He'd never password-protected his apps. She'd seem him open his messages multiple times. Y/N's heart sank and sank until she was sure it wasn't in her anymore. She wracked her brain for explanations, but she could simply not think past his face, flushed red and hair damp, looking up expectantly and full of love at her.
Y/N made her way back to him in a haze. He was waiting steadily, and obediently took what she gave him. He couldn't seem to stop touching her, always holding her fingers and playing with them. He pulled her in, and as promised, Y/N made her way into the little cave he'd created. She was boiling, but she said nothing, only let Harry wrap his arms around her and press his hot skin to hers.
"Miss you so much," he mumbled. "Always taking care of me." Y/N suddenly found herself blinking tears away from her eyes. The tenderness, the care, his words, his neediness - it was too much. She looked at his sleeping face, slightly frowning, and wondered. Harry, are you cheating on me?
As if to answer, Harry's face turned into a grimace, and he pressed himself closer to her, burrowing himself into the crevice of her body.
******
Harry recovered quick, and so did the little lonely spell they were having in their relationship. He was back in the studio, but he would come back to her, and she would be there for him. He started calling her his 'muse', but how much ever she begged he wouldn't show her the songs he was writing. All Y/N did was try not to think about the texts on his phone.
"Why do you need to hear them? Is it not enough to know they are about you?" he huffed. They were sprawled out on the couch, her head on his lap.
Y/N gazed up at him. "That's exactly why I want to know. What if you..."
Harry raised his brows. "Go on," he said.
It was risky. It was really risky. But Y/N said it anyway, her heart racing. "What if you have another woman and you're just singing about how much you hate me and want to be with her instead?"
She closely scrutinised his face for any hints, for any sign. Harry's eyes went very wide, but then he composed himself.
"You think I'd cheat on you?" he said.
Y/N shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. Harry looked at her a second, and then bent down, nudging her nose. "Over my dead body," he grinned. "You are everything."
****
They went back and forth like that. Y/N was almost scared to be alone with him. She'd twisted things up in her head so much that every single thing Harry did, she would read as some kind of signal. He would do something as simple as buying a new shirt, and Y/N would wonder if G picked it out for him.
The only person with a G in their name could be Gemma, his sister, but Y/N knew for a fact that she was first of all, pregnant with her first baby, and also saved in Harry's phone as 'Gem'. Just the thought of Gemma made another thread of guilt run through her. She hadn't seen Harry's family in a long, long time. Even with how intense her relationship was with Harry, she'd only met his family a couple of times, but they were all just the most lovely people she had ever met.
Y/N considered talking to Gemma. Maybe she would know who this mystery person was. But it was really quite stupid, wasn't it? No one would believe her. On the outside, it did seem like Harry worshipped her. Just a few days ago, Sarah had texted her saying that Harry was seriously considering naming his album 'Y/N'.
But didn't people get like that when they wanted to hide something? Maybe he was simply doubling down on his affection to make sure his affair remained what it was - hidden.
Y/N was seriously going insane. She needed a break. She needed to focus on the parts of her life that didn't involve Harry. She needed to be out of this house, this lovely house, in which everywhere she looked there was a part of Harry.
Y/N stood in the silence in the doorway of their home, feeling more lonely than she had ever felt in her life. And then, with a sigh, she left the house.
She had no plan, really. She just wandered where her feet took her, trying to reason through her thoughts in her head. She found herself in a very familiar neighbourhood. It was one of the first places Harry had ever showed her in this city. A smile came upon her face immediately. She remembered the day very clearly. Them, in a cafe, Y/N full of hope and love and joy, and Harry, his face absolutely radiating with love for her, for their life ahead. They had walked past the studio that he would be working in for this album, and Y/N had been wonderstruck. She was coming up on that exact cafe, and Y/N decided to go in, just for old times sake.
The atmosphere was exactly the same, and Y/N’s heart suddenly ached with a longing for Harry. She instinctively turned around to look at where they had been sitting all those months ago, and it really felt like he was right there.
Y/N blinked. He actually was right there. She couldn’t believe it. He had his grey coat on, and he sat with his side to Y/N, chin rested on his folded up hands, staring intently at the person sitting across from him.
The person across from him… Y/N almost fell to the ground. It was a beautiful woman with flowing black hair, who had never seen before. They both sat hunched forward, intently discussing something apparently very funny.
Y/N’s eyes teared up. She was right. She knew it, she knew she shouldn’t have doubted her intuition. She loved Harry so much, of course she would know that he was hiding something from her.
Harry leaned forward, touching the woman’s hand gently. Y/N couldn’t take it. Her hands curled to fists at her side. He laughed, his dimple deep in his cheek. Y/N could see his mouth moving softly, whispering words to this woman who was simply eating it up. Y/N was burning in her own world, while this woman here got to have Harry to herself.
Maybe Y/N imagined it, maybe she was reading too deep, but they both sat together with a kind of casual intimacy that Y/N had struggled with all her life, and had only found with Harry.
There was a tap at her shoulder, and she turned around miserably. A man motioned to the counter behind them “You gonna order?” he asked.
Y/N took a moment to shake her head, and then walked out of the cafe door. She couldn’t even hold it in until she had turned the corner. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and once she was out of the way of the pedestrians, she leaned against the wall and heaved out pathetic sobs.
What did I do? Y/N thought. What could I have possibly done more to keep him? His face flashed in her mind, his sleeping, sick face, flushed red, and Y/N was overcome with a desire to run to him and fling herself against him. I’m your problem. Fix this.
She had been wanting to talk about this for so long but the only person she wanted to talk about Harry cheating on her was with Harry himself. And it hurt. It hurt like hell.
She made herself go home. She made herself stop crying, and walk into her room and bring a bag pack out. She ignored all the pieces of their relationship that were scattered across their house. She packed a couple of clothes, and then, still sniffling, she called Sarah.
“Hello?” her voice came from the other end, warm and familiar and comforting. Y/N wished, for the first time, that she hadn’t met Sarah through Harry.
“Could I please come and stay with you for a bit?” she hiccuped through her words.
There was a pause, some shuffling, and then: “Of course, Y/N. Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“I’m… I just don’t want to be alone,” she spat out.
“Is H there?” Sarah asked, genuine concern sounding out in her tone.
And of course. Of course, that’s what she would ask, but Y/N felt angry at it. She didn’t need Harry. The rage was settling in.
“I’m asking you as Y/N, not as Harry’s girlfriend, can I stay with you or not?”
“Yes, of course. Y/N, I -”
“Be there in fifteen,” Y/N cut her off, and then ended the call. As she stepped out the door, she ran into a hard body, and Y/N righted herself as a hand grasped her elbow to steady her.
Y/N was about to apologise, but swallowed it as soon as she saw Harry’s face, slightly amused, looking down at her.
“In a hurry, are we?” he smirked. Y/N’s eyes hardened and she roughly shook herself free from his grip.
“Fuck yourself,” she said, but it sounded weaker than she meant it. Harry’s brows furrowed and he leaned in, trapping her.
“Baby, what’s wrong? Did I -”
Y/N shoved him hard. He stumbled back, hurt flashing across his face, but Y/N didn’t care.
“I saw you, you fucking prick. Don’t act oblivious. I never want to see your face again.”
Harry’s face completely crumbled. “Y/N, what’s going on? I don’t understand -”
Y/N saw her Uber pull up behind them. She didn’t spare a glance at Harry, speed walking towards the car. She felt Harry grab her hand from behind her.
She whirled around. "Don't touch me!" she screamed.
"Y/N, my love, please, can we talk? I don't understand what happened. Please just -"
Y/N got into the car and slammed the door shut. Harry's hands were on the window, knocking, begging her not to go, but Y/N was done. It was over. The car took off, and soon she was at Sarah and Mitch’s house.
When the door opened she was greeted by Mitch, who smiled at her softly. All it did was make Y/N crumble again, but Mitch was there: a solid, steady presence. He immediately understood that something was inherently wrong, and gathered Y/N in a tight hug.
“Hey, Y/N,” he whispered against her cheek, and she sniffled into his shoulder. “You good?”
She shook her head sideways, and Sarah appeared from behind Mitch.
“Darling,” she said, taking Y/N’s hand. “You’re worrying us. Come in, and we’ll talk, okay?”
Y/N nodded. Her motions were slow and lethargic, as if she had been physically hurt somehow, and it made her feel even more like a burden. What was she even doing, showing up to Mitch and Sarah’s house after one of their closest’s friend cheated on her?
“Sorry,” Y/N muttered. “I… I hope it’s not too much trouble. I honestly don’t even need to stay, I can just -”
“Y/N,” Mitch interrupted. He led her to the couch. “Sit down, please.”
All three of them settled into their seats, and Y/N rubbed her hands in nervousness. “Do you… I mean, do you guys know where Harry is?” she asked.
Mitch and Sarah shared a look. Oh no, she thought. They know?
“He was at the studio about an hour and a half ago, and he said he’d be heading home soon.”
Y/N let out a laugh. It was cruel, and bitter, and she didn’t know she had it in her, honestly.
“I need you both to be honest with me, right now,” she said sternly. “Did you know he is cheating on me?”
Mitch and Sarah gaped at her.
“Y/N, respectfully, I don’t think -” Mitch started, but Sarah held up a hand.
“Why do you think that?” Sarah asked, and then, through tear-filled eyes Y/N recounted everything.
By the time Y/N finished talking, her throat was raw and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Sarah slid a tissue into her palm, and Mitch sat forward, frowning deeply.
“That’s a lot,” he said carefully. “But none of it really sounds like proof. You know Harry, he’s clueless and blunt sometimes, but...”
“He’s not clueless,” Y/N cut in. "How could anyone be clueless about some thing like this?"
Sarah wrapped an arm around her. “Hey. You don’t have to explain anything. You need space, stay here as long as you want.”
“Thank you,” Y/N whispered.
Mitch sighed. “You're welcome for as long as you want, Y/N. But you need to speak to him once. I think, things could really be just mixed up."
Before Y/N could respond, Mitch’s phone started ringing. The phone lit up with a goofy photo of Harry, and Y/N choked on a sob. Her stomach twisted.
“No,” she said.
“Y/N…” Mitch said softly. “He’s probably worried sick.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” she said angrily, shaking her head. “Please, Mitch. Not right now. I need... I need you.” It was maybe, one of the hardest things she had said to them yet.
Sarah flipped the phone face down. "We're here, Y/N. Always."
Mitch stood up and moved to pat Y/N's hair. "Alright, Y/N. I'm going to go make you some tea and then we'll put some TV on, okay?"
Y/N nodded, grateful. She slumped against the couch, the emotions making her feel wrecked. Damn Harry. Damn her, for thinking that he was the one, for imaging them married and with children going on family vacations with Gemma.
After she'd had some warm tea, Sarah showed her to the guest room, and Y/N quite happily tried to melt into the sweet embrace of sleep. But it simply wouldn't come. She couldn't stop thinking of what Mitch said earlier.
He’s probably worried sick.
Good, Y/N thought bitterly. He should be. From outside, she could hear Sarah and Mitch shuffling around. Then Mitch's voice, clear as water, "H, mate, calm down, alright?"
Traitor, Y/N thought, but bolted out of bed all the same. She hurried into the room, her heart pounding, and caught Harry’s frantic voice bleeding through the phone in Mitch’s hand. Her head told her to not listen to him anymore, but her heart was still there - with him - and Y/N ran to stand next to Mitch. He looked up at her, frown etching his face, and Y/N resisted the urge to grab the phone from him.
"No," Mitch said firmly. "Harry, of course she is -" Mitch kept getting interrupted by Harry, and winced at Y/N.
"She's safe. I promise. You... you really fucked up, H," Mitch said and he ended the call.
"Y/N, sorry I woke you," Mitch murmured, clearly tensed.
"Is he..." Y/N asked, hating herself for it.
"No," Mitch sighed. "He looked for you everywhere. I had to tell him that we had you. I'm so sorry, but he sounded so broken, and he's also my friend, after all."
Y/N swallowed, feeling sick. They all stood there for a few minutes, unsure of what to say or do.
The knock came out of nowhere, rattling the door. And then, his muffled voice, raw and scratchy. "Y/N!” He pounded his fist on the door. "Y/N, baby, please!" Her stomach dropped and Y/N trembled with the need she had to reach him.
"Open the fuck up, Mitch! I need to speak to her!" Harry shouted.
Sarah stood from where she was perched on the couch and nodded at Y/N. "I'll deal with him."
Y/N couldn't see him, but Harry didn't try and push past Sarah, which was possibly the reason she went to the door instead of Mitch.
"Get her please, Sarah," Y/N heard him say. Then he yelled her name and Sarah shushed him. She whispered something, and then Harry's voice sounded again. "I can't calm down! She just left me, and I don't -"
Y/N stepped forward until he was in her view. His hair was dishevelled and his face twisted painfully at the sight of her. His eyes drooped as if he was pleading with her. He leaned forward, wide-eyed, as if he was about to fall down on his knees, begging. "Y/N, baby..."
"No," she snapped. "Don't call me that. I know everything, Harry. I saw you today."
"Saw me where?"
"With her!" Y/N spat. "In our cafe!"
A certain kind of understanding dawned on Harry's face. "Amy? Are you talking about Amy?"
"Oh," Sarah exclaimed. "Do you not know about Amy?" Sarah turned to Y/N.
"Who the fuck is Amy? And why were you... " Y/N choked on her words, but held up a finger out to Harry. "Why were you so cosied up with her? In our fucking seat?"
Harry looked pained. He stumbled backwards, as if her words had been a physical blow to him. Sarah still stood between them like a divider.
"You think, I... you think I would betray you? You think I'm cheating on you?" He looked disgusted to say the words.
Y/N’s lip trembled, but she stood her ground. “I saw you, Harry. Don’t make me feel insane. You're always on your fucking phone, you were never home!"
“Jesus Christ,” Harry swore. He paced about a bit, hands in his hair, and then back to Y/N.
"Amy is a colleague. She's not a permanent employee of the studio, she's just come in to help us plan some stuff, but fuck, I didn’t think...” He stopped, dragging both hands down his face. "I didn't think about how it would look to you. I didn't think about the cafe. I'm so sorry. "
"Plan what? You always tell me this stuff. You always told me everything."
"I still do, Y/N. I can't do a fucking thing without not telling you about it, that's why this has been so fucking hard..."
Y/N crossed her arms. "So you have been hiding something."
"Harry," Sarah interrupted softly. "Maybe you should come in."
"He's not stepping a foot in here until we clear this up," Y/N glared at him. Harry's face morphed into one of defiance.
“God, this is a fucking nightmare,” he mumbled.
"Oh, is it now?" Y/N yelled, advancing towards him. "You know what was really a nightmare? That night, when you came home late and I was half asleep on the couch, you were on the phone and I heard you."
Harry frowned.
"I heard you. Baby girl, you'd said. In that voice you use with me. So don’t you dare stand there and act like I’m imagining things."
Harry stared at her for a moment until recognition dawned on his face. “You… you heard me say that?” His voice cracked.
Y/N heart dropped all the way to her feet. Tears sprung free from her eyes, and at the sight of them Harry's entire body spasmed. He groaned, a bit dramatically, and then blew out a deep breath.
“Oh, fuck me. Oh, fuck. This is... this is so messed up.” Harry paced a step, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You think I was calling another woman? Christ, no wonder you’ve... you've been so... distant.”
“Then who was it?” Y/N demanded, her throat tight.
Harry looked at her, completely undone. His eyes shone. “It was my niece, Y/N. Gemma had the baby early. A little girl. My niece. I’d just gotten pictures."
Harry groaned again, as if to say this all hurt him. "I wanted to surprise you, make it special. That’s what I’ve been planning."
Y/N had a huge lump in her throat. Gemma had a daughter. She felt a surge of emotion. Gemma had a daughter!
Harry let out a short, bitter laugh. "Christ, Y/N, I fucking worship you. I can’t believe you thought..." He trailed off.
"Why didn't you just tell me?" Y/N sobbed, her voice low, all the fight drained out of her.
“Because I wanted it to be a surprise!” Harry said, exasperated. “I thought it’d make you happy. I didn’t know it would... fuck, I didn’t know it would look like this.”
Y/N swayed a bit on the spot, and she felt Mitch come up behind her. She folded in on herself, guilt squeezing her in from all sides. "Oh God," she mumbled. The tears were escaping freely now, and Y/n squeezed her eyes shut.
Stupid stupid stupid, she chanted in her head. How could she be so fucking stupid?
"I... I don't... Oh god, I can't believe I -" and then she broke down, falling to the floor. "I'm sorry," she sobbed to no one in particular.
And then warm arms enveloped her. She breathed in his familiar scent as he gathered her up and positioned her on his lap.
“Fuck,” Harry muttered brokenly, almost to himself. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I do realise how it looked to you. I was distant, and I was unknowingly ignoring you a bit, but only because I was just so happy..."
Y/N shook her head. "As you should be," she said. "You're an uncle. You have a niece, Harry. She... she must be so pretty."
Harry smiled. Y/N lifted her face to look at him, and noticed that he had been crying too. "She is the most beautiful girl, second only to our future daughter," he said softly, and in one sentence Y/N felt her whole world come back to life.
Her eyes widened, and she looked up at him in shock.
“I love you so much," Harry said, palming her cheek. "I can’t lose you over something like this. I'm so sorry. I can’t believe this is what had been eating you alive.”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re it for me, you always have been. I’d rather die than call someone else the things I call you.”
Y/N sniffled harder. How could she ever have doubted this man?
He pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I was going to take you today, to see her. If you still wanted to, we could go and meet our niece."
"Our?" Y/N asked.
Harry nodded. "Our," he repeated. Y/N smiled at him, relieved more than anything, grateful, and even a bit ashamed. She buried her face into his neck.
They stayed like that for a bit, until Mitch broke the silence. "Well, I better be the best fucking man at your wedding, H," he grumbled, and everyone broke into laughter.
******
fuckk this was such a ride. thanks for reading!!!! initially i wanted Harry to ask her to marry him at the end but then my tsitp trauma kicked in lol.
hope you liked this heheh.