"Management is gonna be so mad,"Camryn sobs pulling away from Harry's chest to look him in the eyes, "they're gonna kick you out of the band."
"Cami, we wouldn't let that happen. There is no band without Harry,"Louis promises.
Harry Styles is 16 w...
❤️Thank you so so much to SofttZ and @Nienke_TPWK for requesting this chapter!!! ❤️
Harry: 18
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Camryn: 18, 5 weeks pregnant Darcy: 20 months
*TW* mentions thoughts of self harm and su***** read with caution please ❤️
It still hurts. Somedays more than others.
Somedays she still finds herself looking at the boxes of Darcy's old newborn baby clothes in their closet that they had excitedly pulled out the day they found out they were pregnant.
Somedays she finds herself not being able to put down Darcy for the whole day because she just wants to hold her close and keep a tight grip on her so nothing can take her away.
Somedays she finds Harry crying in the shower. And she feels a guilt seep deep in her stomach. Because she should've been able to protect their baby. But, she couldn't. So she just climbs into the shower and hugs him as their tears mix with the shower water.
Somedays she feels like she's barely alive and she can't even put together a coherent thought.
It's been two months and neither Harry nor her can see how anything is going to get better.
It doesn't help that he's been on tour for the past two weeks. Being alone and grieving are not two things that mix well for Camryn, she's quickly finding out.
She's been barely living for the past two months. Just going through the motions and not really even thinking about what she's doing. Not even Darcy can ground her, and that's beginning to scare her.
And now, she has a stick in front of her that she's seen so many times before and she doesn't know what to do.
She's frozen.
And she's sick. Sick to her stomach. She's shaking visibly as she looks at herself in the mirror. She doesn't even recognize herself on most days and today is no different.
She turns to the side and pulls her shirt tight against her stomach to see if she can see a change. Of course she can't see a change. She lost all of the leftover bump she had after the miscarriage and now it's just her normal stomach. But, something in her each day feels like maybe, just maybe, her bump will return along with her baby.
And she hates it.
She hates her body.
She hates that it couldn't sustain her little baby.
She pulls her shirt up to expose the skin and sniffles, gripping the skin tightly in her palm as if she wants to pull it off. It turns red and seers, but she couldn't care less. The pain is a welcomed feeling.
She doesn't want to be in her body anymore.
She wants a different body. A body that didn't kill her baby.
