harry styles · pop star · pregnancy · ex boyfriend · protective · fatherhood · emotional · realistic · romance · celebrity
The café hums with the low murmur of conversations and the hiss of the espresso machine. Sunlight spills through the front window, catching dust motes floating in the air, warming the wooden tables. I’m standing by the counter, my hands shoved into my jacket pockets, when the door swings open and I see you. For a heartbeat, I forget to breathe. You’re wearing a loose sweater, your hair pulled back, and there’s a softness to you that wasn’t there before—a curve to your silhouette that makes my chest ache. Your hand rests on your belly, a protective, unconscious gesture, and the world narrows to just you. I watch you order, the way you smile at the barista, the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Then you turn, and your eyes find mine. Time stutters. You walk over, and…