Eucatastrophe ~ h.s.

✗ thirty ✗

SHAY

Dinner could not be more awkward than now.

Here I sit beside the man that admitted to me only hours prior that he loves me, avoiding said topic of conversation. We haven't actually spoken more than two sentences to each other either, making the whole experience even weirder. Every time Harry tries to pull me away or speak lowly to me someone interrupts us. It's as if his family doesn't want me to know whether or not their son or brother loves me.

Gemma keeps going on and on about our day together and how much she enjoys my company. I'm grateful for her kind words, but can't seem to hold a conversation with the lingering thoughts on my mind. She had invited me shopping in London for the banquet, which she heard I was attending and basically demanded that she help me dress for the occasion.

Anne and Robin have been filling my head with so many stories this evening that my brain is literally swirling. Anne tells me of young Harry and all the trouble he used to get himself in. Robin tells me of the time Harry got drunk a few years back after a family gathering and was doing the silliest of things. But don't ask me what those silly things were; I can't even remember myself.

It is absolutely crushing my heart and raising my anxiety that I don't know. The butterflies in my stomach have not stopped fluttering since we sat down together. Every time I lock eyes with Harry though they subside momentarily and my heart feels like it's being stepped on. It's literally killing me not knowing. It's also making me physically ill, that and the fact that I'm pregnant and the smell of meat is just so off-putting.

The feeling of Harry's hand on my thigh knocks me out of the trance that I've kept on my meal since I had received it. I haven't been able to eat all that much with the nausea, butterflies, and anxiety. I fear that too much food in my out-of-whacked system will be too much. I glance down at my lap to see his tanned hand in place, his thumb caressing my leg above my pants. I stare at the cross tattoo on his hand, my eyes immediately being drawn to it as if a silent plea to pray to the heavens above for this pain to stop.

"I need to use the toilets." I blurt out, standing to my feet at once. Everyone around the table stares at me, it seems that I've interrupted someone from speaking. I mentally curse myself and glance down at Harry, whom wears a worried expression on his face. "Please excuse me." I hope that my polite apology calms Harry down from doing anything stupid, like following me into the loo.

I make my way from the table towards the ladies room at the back of the restaurant, pushing the door open and stumbling in. As soon as the door is closed, I'm a stomping, cursing mess. My curses are light in volume, but very serious in tone.

I want to tell him that I love him and hope that he loves me back. I want to hold him in my arms and just talk all night like we do sometimes. I just want to be in a relaxed environment with him.