So it Seems || Harry Styles

Chapter 27

"You need to go to the doctor."

"I don't want to."

"Don't you want to figure out what...this is?"

"No."

"It's been almost a month."

"So?"

"That's not normal. You've been sick for a month and you don't know why or what's causing it? You need to go to a doctor before it gets worse." Harry urged me.

It's been three weeks since I've known I'm pregnant. I didn't tell anyone, not a single person. Not even Harry. Or Niall.

I didn't know how to break the news to him. I had no idea how he was going to react.

It's horrible, truly horrible. Hiding something from someone you love, it makes you feel sick almost. As if I'm not already. The idea of it has been eating me up alive. I don't know when the right time to tell him is, but I'm not sure how long I can keep this up.

In a way I'm surprised he hasn't caught on yet, I figured all the signs showed to it. I've been so snappy lately, and I'm usually not. My moods change almost everyday, and I'm always craving something. Something that's completely out of ordinary. For example, today is pretzels with chocolate frosting. I know it sounds completely absurd, but it tastes so right.

"That's it," Harry got off my bed. "Get up, I'm taking you to the doctors."

I protested. "No it's fine."

"It's not fine, Millie! You're not fine. This isn't normal." I know when he's serious about something when he calls me Millie. He reached for my hand, trying to pull me out of bed but I moved it away.

"It'll all just pass," I said, trying to act like it wasn't a big deal.

Harry paced my floors, his motions causing the air to blow his hair back. "What? Is there something you're not telling me? Do you have cancer? Are you dying and you just don't want me to know?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

I felt bad, sitting there practically lying to his face. He has the right to know that I was currently pregnant, with his baby. I just didn't have the heart to tell him.

What if it messed up his life? His plan? To graduate high school, go to college and get a proper job, get married and start a family. I mean, Harry and I never really talked about our future. Obviously we discussed colleges we wanted to go to. But I'm pretty sure going to high school, getting a girlfriend, getting her knocked up at the age of eighteen, then going off to college wasn't apart of his plan.

He sat beside me on my bed, his green eyes looking intently into mine. "Camilla, babe, please. Please go to the doctor. For me, at least. I want to know what's wrong so I can help take care of you."

"I'm not going to a doctor," I argued. "Because I know what's wrong."

He raised his eyebrows, as if he was quite confused and anxiously waiting for me to tell him what was going on. "I'm pregnant." I blurted out.

I don't know what came over me, but the words just fell out of my mouth. I didn't even know I was going to tell him today, but the thought of keeping it from him was killing me. I had to let it out. I had to tell him.

Harry didn't say anything. He stared at me, blinking a few times. "What?"

"I'm pregnant, Harry," I repeated.

He stood up, placing his hands on top of his head. "Are-are you sure? Did you-did you take a test?"

"Yes, I did. Three of them actually, and they all came up positive."