#please feel free to talk to me about Lorenz or whoever I would love to hear what you have to say

[ashes-of-ailell]

man me posting that tier list suddenly makes Lucien's dislike of Lorenz make sense huh

(little rant in my tags just cause I'm a bit nervous, would mean a lot of you read (it's nothing too serious dw, just wanted to clarify some things))

[h-styles-babes]

No Control | Chapter Thirty-Seven

Summary: 

Micky Bennett: college student, loyal friend, aspiring nurse, One Direction fan, Harry Styles enthusiast. Her best friend, Trevor, wins tickets to a show in New Jersey with meet and greet passes. Micky expects a quick photo op with the boys and a great night at the concert with her best friend. What she gets a whole lot more than she bargained for.

To read previous chapters, you can go here.

*Please feel free to reblog and send feedback. It’s much appreciated :)*

*Gif is not mine.*

THIRTY-SEVEN

“How about Stevie?”

“Harry, we’re not naming our child after Stevie Nicks.”

“Why not?”

“Because you personally know her. That’s weird.”

He huffs and sets down the little brochure on birthing tubs and natural births that he picked up when we first got shown to the exam room. I’m sat on the exam table, dangling my legs off the edge, and he’s in a rolling chair beside me, trying to keep himself entertained. There was apparently an emergency with another patient just after we got here, so the doctor hasn’t been in to see us yet, and we’ve been waiting for about twenty minutes. While neither of us are upset about it, I can see Harry getting antsy. He never has been very good at sitting still for more than about fifteen minutes without something to entertain him. 

“Then what do you suggest?” Harry asks. 

“I already told you my suggestions,” I remind him, referring to the conversation we’ve been having for the last ten minutes. “You shot every single one of them down.”

“Yeah, because I’m not naming my little girl Ashley or Hayley. I’m sorry. They’re too common.”

“Yeah, now,” I stress. “When she grows up, it’s not going to be.”

“I still don’t like it.” He shakes his head. “I want something more meaningful, too.”

“Like what?” I wonder, titling my head at him. “And don’t start naming famous musicians. I will say no to every single one of them.”

“What if I genuinely like the name?”

“Nope. Not happening.”

He pouts. “Fine, no well-known musicians.” He’s quiet as he looks around the room, seeming to ponder about some new choices. “What about, like, something to do with New York?”

I furrow my brow. “Why so specific?”

Harry licks his lips and I see his cheeks redden a little bit. It’s a rare sight to see Harry Styles get embarrassed, so I’m intrigued by what his answer is going to be. “Because that’s where we met.”

“We met in New Jersey,” I point out kindly. 

“Well, we got to know each other in New York. I got to be a normal twenty-one year old for the first time with you in New York. It’s most likely where Little Bean was conceived. It means something to me.” There’s a softness in his eyes that makes me want to coo, and I can’t help but smile fondly at him.

“You’re so fucking adorable, you know that?” He smiles at me, so I lean over and press a quick kiss to his lips, cupping his cheek with my hand. “So, what, like a burrow?”

“Not necessarily,” he shrugs.

“Brooklyn’s out, for sure,” I tell him. “Overused already.”

“I agree. And no Chelsea. I’m not particularly fond of the name. And Chels sucks as a nickname.”

I snicker as I lean myself back on the table. I hum in thought. “Hudson?”

“The Hudson River is nearly as disgusting as the Thames. No thank you.” He pulls a disgusted face, which I laugh at. “Ellis?”

I shake my head. “I watch Grey’s Anatomy.”

He furrows his brow. “So?”

“Ellis is the name of a dead woman who died from Alzheimer’s and was an overall unpleasant woman.”

He laughs now. “Alright, sorry I suggested it.”

“Ooh, what about Perry?” I suggest, automatically liking it when it pops in my head.

“You literally just said no famous musician names,” he deadpans.

“Oh! Shit. Perrie Edwards. Whoops.”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “What about Wythe?”

I scrunch my nose up at him. “Sounds a lot like Blythe, and I really don’t like that name.” I think for a moment, and for some reason, universities start popping into my mind. “We can be really posh and go with, like, Carnegie or something.”

Harry grimaces. “Why would you even pretend to suggest that? That’s awful.” I shrug, and watch as his face lights up. “What about Waverly?” 

I open my mouth, already poised to protest, because that’s all that we’ve really been doing this whole time, but I pause. Thinking, I close my mouth and let a small smile take over instead. “That’s…actually really pretty. I like that. Like, a lot.”

“Really?” he asks, an expectant grin stretching across his face. “Are you sure? You’re not just saying that because we’ve been through about forty names since we entered the building?”

I giggle and shake my head. “No, I really do love it, Harry. It’s unique and pretty but not too weird that people would ask what the hell we were thinking.”

Harry rolls his eyes and mumbles something about dumb celebrity baby names and I laugh. There’s a knock on the door at the same moment, and Dr. Lorenz pokes his head in with a small smile.

After greetings and a small apology about taking so long, which Harry and I both brush off since it really isn’t a problem, we get into the appointment. We get more pictures of our little girl, who looks like a proper baby now, only being a few weeks out from her due date. The doctor confirms one last time that she is indeed a girl, ensuring Harry and I won’t have to scramble to find a boy’s name that we like once the baby’s born. We discuss my new plan to start my maternity leave earlier than I first planned, and Dr. Lorenz smiles kindly, saying that he’s really not all that surprised that I’ve changed my mind now that I get so easily fatigued and being on my feet for several hours at a time is more than a little uncomfortable. 

Since we’re at the end of the pregnancy, the doctor wants to see me in two weeks instead of in a month, and he urges us to make sure all our ducks are in a row when it comes to what hospital we’re going to go to and what our birthing plan is. Harry waves the pamphlet at me, the one about natural births, and I scowl at him. 

“When you’re the one squeezing a baby out of your body, we’ll talk about a natural birth.”

The doctor chuckles at my comment and Harry’s affronted expression. We leave after making an appointment for two weeks out. During the drive to the children’s hospital, Harry tries to talk to me about having a natural birth or even using a birthing tub, but I’m pretty quick to shut them down. Modern medicine invented the epidural for a reason, and I have every intention of using it to my advantage if at all possible. 

The hospital is completely understanding of my wish to go on maternity leave as soon as possible, and the director assures me that they’ll try their hardest to get a replacement in for me in two weeks time, if not sooner, so that I can start preparing for the birth as quickly as possible. I thank them for their understanding, and they promise me that my position will be available to me immediately as soon as I want to come back. I still haven’t decided if I’m going to return to this hospital for work, especially if Harry wants to move back to London full time soon. I’d hate to start back after my maternity leave, just to pick up and move soon after. It’s something I’ll have to talk to Harry about, though, so I don’t mention anything to my bosses just yet. 

We pick up lunch on the way back to my flat, since I’ve been craving In N’ Out recently, and harry agrees that it does sound really good now that he’s back in California. I’m somewhat surprised when he orders a double double with a chocolate shake and animal fries, expecting him to have gotten his burger protein style and gotten, like, a lemonade or something. He shrugs with a slight smile when he sees my astonished expression as he orders.

“I’m not always a health freak,” he argues as he pulls up to the window. “Felt like a greasy burger was in order today.”

I just laugh and sit back as we wait, eager to get our food and get home.

“Why is there nothing on the telly?” I grumble, flipping through the channels. We’re sat on the couch in Harry’s house, both of us finished with our food. I feel absolutely stuffed, but Little Bean—or Waverly, rather—seems content, so I’ll take it. I’m laid out across the furniture, Harry tucked between my body and the back of the couch, head nuzzled on my breasts, hand drawing random patterns on my belly. He seems a little blissed out from his own food consumption, looking nearly ready for a nap. 

“Because the world hates us,” he mumbles, voice muffled from being pressed into me. 

There’s a tinkling sound that resonates through Harry’s house, and his brow furrows, bottom lip jutting out.

“What is that?” I ask.

“That’s the sound that lets me know the gate at the end of the drive is being opened.”

“Are you expecting anyone?” I ask. I’m not all too concerned, because whoever it is is obviously close enough and trusted enough by Harry that they have the code to his gate, but I’m curious as to who we’re supposed to be expecting. Harry had said this was to be a lazy day; I didn’t think that meant we were having company.

“No,” he answers, reaching across me for his phone on the coffee table.

“Maybe it’s Jeff,” I suggest, thinking it’d be like a manager/best friend to show up whenever he pleases.

“He’s having a few days with his family,” Harry argues. “They’re in Napa.”

I frown now. Harry pulls up some app on his phone, and all the cameras around his property are pulled up. There’s a black range making it’s way up the drive slowly, the gate closing quickly behind them. Harry still looks confused, so he scoots out from behind me and walks with socked feet toward the front door. 

I sit up on the couch, settling on some random channel on the TV. I realize a beat too late that it’s landed on a absolutely riveting episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians, and I scowl and go to change it just as Harry opens the front door. I’m taken aback for a moment when the voice I hear at the front door sounds a lot like the voice currently speaking on the telly. My jaw tightens when I realize I’m not just hearing things, and who I think has randomly shown up at Harry’s house is indeed there. 

“Harry, I was hoping you were back!” she exclaims. From my spot on the couch, I can see the entryway, and I see Kendall wrap her arms around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug he seems a little caught off guard by. Being the gentleman he is, he wraps an arm around her waist and places a quick kiss in greeting to her cheek. 

“Kendall…” he greets. “Hi. What are you doing here?” There’s an edge to his voice that I don’t think she notices, since she just smiles and shuffles herself further into the house. 

“Dropped by, hoping you were back from your trip. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” She walks with her back toward me into the living room, keeping her gaze on Harry. Harry catches my eye over her shoulder, and there’s a sort of panicked expression on his face that I would find comical in any other circumstance. As it is, his supermodel ex-girlfriend is currently in his house, uninvited, acting like it’s completely natural that she’s here. 

“I’ve been busy,” he tells her, going to follow after her as she stops in the threshold between the entryway and the living room. “And we broke up awhile ago.”

“We’re still friends, though,” she argues, like she’s a little offended he’s just reminded her they’ve broken up. I’m not sure of all the details, but I’m almost positive they broke up before I ran into Harry again. 

“Yeah, but usually friends call before they drop by.”

I’m very unsure of what to do. Do I go up and introduce myself? Or do I stay seated and pretend like I’m not even here? Should I go to a different room, unnoticed so that he can get rid of her? And why would she just drop by like this? Has she been living under a rock for the last several weeks? The whole world knows Harry Styles is to be a dad and he’s together with the mother of his child. Well, it’s still only speculation, but it’s correct speculation this time. 

“You’ve never said ‘no’ before when I’ve randomly dropped by unannounced.” There’s something in her voice that’s almost suggestive, but I don’t know if I’m just hearing things. “You’ve always been more than happy with the company when I’ve come here before.”

Yep, definitely a suggestive tone, and the widening of Harry’s eyes as they dart in panic toward me is all the confirmation I need. And I so did not need to hear all of that. It isn’t graphic in nature, but it was more than enough to let me know exactly what they did when she dropped by in the past. I kind of want to vomit all over Harry’s ridiculously expensive couch.

“Ken!” he balks loudly, surprised at her declaration. 

“What?” she laughs, finally turning to walk further into the house. She pauses when she seems me sitting on the couch, mouth dropping open slightly.

“Am I interrupting something? Should I leave you two alone?” I ask, trying to hide the hurt I feel behind the sarcastic quirk of my brow.  

Harry scrubs a hand over his face and back into his hair as he looks at me with an apologetic expression. There’s also some regret in his eyes, probably at me having heard what Kendall said just a few moments earlier. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you had company,” Kendall apologizes, turning to look between Harry and me.

I chuckle without much humor. “Obviously not.” I stand from the couch, using the arm for support. I fix my shirt to completely cover my belly, not particularly fond of the way she eyes it like it’s something foreign. I flash my eyes over her, taking in her cute outfit that shows of a few inches of her flat stomach. I miss getting to wear crop tops and jeans that don’t have an elastic maternity waist. For all the work Harry’s done in convincing me that I’m not fat, looking at and standing next to her completely unravels it. I want out of here as soon as possible. “I’m gonna use the loo real quick.”

“Micky…” Harry starts, reaching forward to grab my arm. There’s a concerned look in his eyes. He’s worried that he’s done something wrong, but this isn’t really on him. It’s my own stupid emotions and insecurities that I’m desperately trying to get away from. And that voice in my head that’s telling me he’s better off with someone like her. Someone pretty and fit and not destroying his life by having his baby.

“Really, Harry,” I assure, though the words sound empty in my own ears. “Baby’s sitting on my bladder.” It’s not a lie, per se, but I don’t actually have to use the restroom. I just want out. 

He licks at his bottom lip before nodding and letting me go. I give him a smile as I retreat to the nearest restroom, locking the door behind me. I immediately pull my phone out of my pocket and text Trev, hoping he’s done with his class or in one where he can text me back quickly.

What’s up, babe? Are you in class? No, just finished my final. What’s up? Come get me from Harry’s? Sure, but r u ok? I’ll explain on the way home. Just hurry. Be there asap.

I hear Harry and Kendall talking out in the foyer still, the raised ceilings and wood floors amplifying the volume.

“I’m so sorry. I honestly didn’t realize she was here! I didn’t see another car in the driveway.”

“That’s because I drove. What are you even doing here, Ken?” There’s an exasperation in Harry’s voice that makes him sound tired. 

“I figured we could have some fun.” The nonchalance in her tone makes me scowl. Is having sex with men in relationships a normal thing for her?

“I’m in a relationship! I’m having a baby. You literally just saw my girlfriend. In what scenario does that mean I’m available to you?” 

“All that shit in the press is true?” She sounds genuinely shocked, and my annoyance with her diminishes a bit. I guess I would be apprehensive of things I saw on magazine covers if I were her, too.

“Yes, Jesus. Did you not just see a pregnant woman sitting in my living room?”

“I didn’t know the tab stories were true, Harry! I don’t believe anything I see in those things. Last week I was trying to steal Kanye from Kim according to them.”

“Well…yeah, they’re true. I’ve got a girlfriend and we’re having a baby together.” I can hear the smile in his voice when he utters that last sentence, and my heart slightly warms at it, though I still feel like getting out of here is the best thing right now. I need my space. And a nap. So I wait a little impatiently for Trev’s arrival text.

In the meantime, I keep eavesdropping, though I probably shouldn’t. I’m bound to hear something I wish I wouldn’t have. 

“Is she the girl you were with during the summer?”

“Her name’s Micky, and yes, she is.” 

“Is she the one that made you all kinky?” What? 

“Jesus…. Don’t, Ken.”

“What? When we were together early last year, you were rough, but I see you again in November, and you’re suddenly into some pretty kinky shit. Referring to yourself as ‘daddy’ and everything. I’m just curious.”

My blood boils a little at the thought of Harry being with her like he is with me. While I wasn’t under the impression I was the only person Harry had requested that she call ‘daddy’ while we’re having sex, the thought that he’d continued it after me makes me feel…I don’t even know honestly. I just know I don’t like it, and I’m not sure if it’s a rational feeling. Plus, back in February, he had made it seem like there was nothing more than publicity going on between them when they were seen together over New Years. But I’ve just gotten a shit ton of confirmation that it was a lot more than the nothing Harry described it to me as.  

“Seriously, stop. We really don’t need to be discussing this. It’s not appropriate.”

I’m here.

The text from Trevor could not have come at a better time, honestly. My chest feels tight and that sticky feeling I get in the back of my throat when I’m about to cry has developed. I flush the toilet, just to keep up pretenses, and then wash my hands. I pocket my phone and exit the bathroom, cutting off whatever Kendall was in the middle of saying. I flash them both what I hope is a smile as I walk past them to grab my purse off the kitchen counter. I’m glad that I wore sandals this morning, so that I don’t have to waste any time putting shoes on or asking Harry for help.

“Mick?” Harry asks. His brows are furrowed in confusion when I look at him. 

“I’ve got some things to do,” I lie, slinging my purse over my shoulder. “Trev’s here to pick me up.”

“But—” he starts, and I cut him off.

“Have a good day, you two. Hang out together. Sounds like you haven’t seen each other in awhile.” I toss my hair over my shoulder to get it out of my way as I move past them.

“Baby, wait,” Harry calls, moving to block my path. “Where are you going?” There’s a sorrow in his eyes that I can’t really bear to look at right now, so I look over his shoulder.

“Just got some things to do, Styles.” He winces at my use of his last name. It comes out impersonal in my tone, not at all like the light, teasing aspect it has when I usually use it. “I’ll see you later. Have fun.”

“Princess—” he starts, pleading, but I cut him off again, turning to look over my shoulder at Kendall as I move past him.

“Nice meeting you, Kendall.”

Her brows are furrowed too, but she puts on her best smile and nods. “Yeah, you too, Micky.”

I throw the door open and attempt to close it behind me, but Harry’s too quick and catches it. I don’t bother sticking around, taking off down the drive as quickly as my waddling will allow, seeing Trev’s Impala at the end. 

“Mick, please,” Harry begs, quickly catching up to me. “Where are you going? You don’t need to leave.”

“I need some space, Harry,” I tell him, my eyes set on the little door next to the gate that will let me off his property. 

“I just got back from London,” he argues. “I’ve missed you. Please don’t leave.”

“And I’ve missed you too, Harry, but I need to be by myself right now.”

He sighs dejectedly, realizing that I’m not going to budge on this. “Text me, yeah? Or call?”

I barely spare a glance at him over my shoulder as I push open the door and slump down into the passenger side of Trevor’s car.

THIRTY-EIGHT