"Zayn, please! Stop being mad at me please!" I despreately pleaded to him.

"You don't even know why I was mad, Harry." he replied, continuing to storm up the stairs.

"Then tell me, please. Please," I felt tears brimming. "I just want to be with you again. I miss you."

"No. Get rid of it. This can't be happening. It's not even possible," Zayn paused and stared at me with an unreadable expression. "You don't want him/her. You don't want a child that we made together. You're acting like its a burden rather than a miracle. You're acting like our baby is a mistake. That's why I'm mad."

I swallowed. My throat suddenly felt dry. I couldn't speak. I just watched Zayn walk up the stairs, then listened to the familar sound of the wooden door slamming shut. My heart throbbed as the loud bang sounded through the flat.

Throwing myself on the couch and crying for 4 hours straight seemed to be the reoccuring result of Zayn refusing my apology, but I didn't do it this time. I decided instead of drowning in my own tears, I needed to take action and do something to make sure Zayn knows that I was this. I want this baby.

I paced back and forth, poundering what I should do. I want it to be special, but not overwhelming. I also want it to be something that is helpful and contributes to the numerous responsibilites of having and caring for a child.

I finally came up with the perfect idea.

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My phone buzzed in my back pocket while I was driving to the local shop. When I got to a stop light, I reached in and pulled out me iPhone.

I smiled to myself then tossed the phone into the passenegers seat. I got to the shop, picked up some things for the flat, then drove back.

As I walked into the flat, Harry rushed to the door and helped me carry the groceries inside.

"Thank you," I huffed. "What suprise do you have for me?"

A grin played across his lips. "Come with me."

I complied with his demands and followed him up the stairs. I am finding it substantially more difficult to walk up the stairs when I'm carrying an extra 10 pounds on my stomach. In spite of myself, I took the arm that Harry had outstretched towards me.

Once up the stairs, Harry took me to his bed room. The door what shut, and he placed his hand on the knob then looked at me.

"Are you prepared?"

I knit my eyebrows together. "Prepared for what?"

"You'll see,"

"Harry Edward, what did you do-"

My mouth fell dropped to the floor when Harry swung the door open. The entire space was redecorated. Grey and white zig-zags were perfectly painted on one wall, and the rest were just grey. Harry put a new comforter on his twin-sized bed and a crib with white wooden bars was adjacent to it. There were cute little designs and touches around the room. It was adorable. It was perfect.

"I, uh, I tried to pick gender-neutral colours, because I don't know if the baby's going to be a girl or boy. But it's got lovely griaffes." Harry said, stroking the 3-foot stuffed-animal.

I smiled widely at the beautiful, curly-haired boy who I'm lucky enough to call my boyfriend, and the father of my baby. He did this for us. I ran up to him, flung my arms round his neck, and smashed my mouth onto his. I felt his lips curl into a smile against mine as he kissed me back. Our first kiss in about a week, and nothing could've felt better.

"Thank you, Harry." I whisper to him.

He snaked his arms around my waist and kissed my neck softly. I ran my fingers through his messy riglets. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me."

"Yes I do, Harry," I said. "This incredible. But, mostly," I looked in him eyes and smiled. "Thank you for being here for me."

Harry grinned. "I want this more than anything, Zayn, I swear. I don't even know why I said what I did. I think it was just a heat-of-the-moment thing. I could never harm any child, let alone ours. I'm so blessed to be able to have a family with you, Zayn. I love you so much."

I kissed his cheek as the tears streamed down my face. Happy tears. "I love you, too, Harry."

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Zayn was about two months pregnant now. His weight gain is becoming a bit more noticeable now. I was beginning to worry that people would notice.

"Even if they did, I don't think their first logical explanation to me getting fat is that I'm pregnant." Zayn said.

"Okay, Mr. Technicality," I chuckled, then lay down horizontally on the couch with my head in his lap. "I think we should tell the boys."

Zayn imbedded his fingers in my curls. "I don't know, Harry..."

"I think they deserve to know. They're our best mates."

"But how are they going to reacct to their best mate, who indeed is a male specimen, being knocked up?"

"Well, I think they might be happy for us..." I trailed off.

"Maybe, but not at first. We may be used to it but the general idea of an impregnated man is abnormal, and more than likely frowned upon." Zayn responded.

"You know, you only talk a lot when you're yelling at me or being negative." I grumbled then turned my head, facing his stomach. I lifted his shirt up and rubbed his skin softly with the back of my index finger.

"What do you think, Harry Jr.?" I whisper with a cheeky grin plastered across my face.

Zayn laughed. "We're not calling them Harry Jr."

"Can we please if it's a boy?"

"No, Babe." Zayn told me with humour in his tone.

"What about if it's a girl?" I inquired softly as I began pressing kisses to his smooth skin.

"I don't know," Zayn spoke quietly. He put his head back and closed his eyes. "I like Jennifer."

I hummed and thought about it. Jennifer Styles. Jennifer Malik. I didn't like that too much.

"What about Darcy?" I suggested.

"That's a possibility. I'm kind of partial to 'J' names though."

"Alright... 'J' names... Jammie, Janet, Jocelyn, Jo, Julia,"

"I like that one," Zayn interjected.

"Jo?" I asked unsuredly.

"No," he shook his head. "Julia."

I thought about it. Julia Styles. Julia Malik.

"We could name her after a flower. Like Lotus, or Petunia or Pansy."

This made Zayn chortle. "Pansy Styles?"

"Shut up," I blushed as he laughed harder. "I was just giving ideas."

When he calmed down he smiled at me. "You're cute,"

I shook my head. "What about boy names?"

"Maybe we could name them after the boys?"

"Louis.. Niall.. Liam Styles?"

"Maybe not then,"

"It could use some work," I admitted.

"I think Harry Jr. could work."

I smiled, then leant up and kissed Zayn's lips. He flattened his palm agaist my chest and moved his soft lips with mine. I reached my hand up and cupped his face, pulling him closer. I took his bottom lip between my teeth and tugged at it, gaining a soft moan.

Zayn's hand move down my torso, to the bottom of my t-shirt. He slyly slide it up my shirt, touching my bare skin. His fingertips slowly grazed my stomach.

I traced his bottom lip with my tongue. Once granted permisson, I entered his mouth and explored it, creating a throaty moan from myself. As our tongues tangled together and our hands roamed each other's bodies, I'll bet you can guess just who walked in on us.

"And I'm interupting your make-out session once again." Louis said.

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