Ours [harry styles] ✓

A Message To You Harry

Nola's screaming confirmed it was going to be a very bad day. 

I'd already woken up with a headache, spilt banana and weetabix on the carpet and broken Nola's Disney princess plastic cup. Her bad mood was just another reason to add to the list of why I should go back to bed and start again tomorrow. However there was one thing that I'd promised myself (and Elenore) that I would do, and it was completely unavoidable. 

Contact Harry. 

Obviously getting in touch with Harry directly was absolutely impossble. After our one night together I'd snuck off to avoid the awkward goodbyes and we hadn't exchanged numbers. At the time I didn't thnk I'd ever have any reason to need to contact him, but of course I was wrong. I couldn't exactly Google his phone number either and somehow cutting my explanation down to 140 characters on Twitter wasn't going to cut it. Elenore had suggested going through his management and after almost changing my mind about the whole thing (again), she'd produced an email address and a postal address for Modest Managment.

"Don't go for the postal address obviously," she'd sighed. "You won't hear back for weeks and by then you'll probably have changed your mind about 5 times. Shame they don't have a phone number, but an email is going to have to do." 

An email hadn't seemed entirely appealing either. I'd toyed with the idea of attaching a photo of Nola, but figured it would probably somehow find it's way leaked onto the internet or in a magazine. How was I supposed to explain the situation without sounding like a crazy super fan willing to do anything to get Harry's attention? 

"Now Nola," I said sternly, placing her in front of her toy box. "Be a good girl for mummy. She's doing something especially for you and all this noise isn't going to be very helpful." 

Nola's eyes twinkled in response as she sniffed and wiped her snotty nose on the back of her teddy's head. I made a mental note to put it in the washing machine later. 

"Hm." I mumbled, pulling the laptop from the bookshelf and placing it on my lap. I drummed my fingers impatiently on the keys as I waited for it to start up and load my email. It was at times like this when I wished Nola was old enough to participate in a proper conversation and understand what I was trying to do. Then again, if I'd left it that long to tell the two of them I dreaded to think of the outcome. 

The blank draft of a new message was strangely intimidating. Whatever I typed right now determined the course of mine, Nola's and Harry's lives from now on. Things were potentially never going to be the same again. Providing of course that Modest Management didn't think I was a crazy single mother with the aim of making Harry Styles my baby daddy. 

Dear sir or madam,

 My name is Marnie Owens. I have already anticipated that you'll find the content of this email extremely strange, but please bear with me. 

 Roughly 2 years ago I met Harry Styles of One Direction at a bar in Soho, London. We were both drunk and I don't need to explain what happened after that. Shortly after our meeting I found out that I was pregnant and decided to keep the child. Her name is Nola and she is one year and 3 months old. She is the spitting image of Harry and has been since the day she was born. Initially I decided not to contact Harry about our daughter as he and his band are at a high point in their career that I didn't wish to jeopardise. With Nola now slowly approaching her second birthday I have decided I would like Harry to at least know of her existence so that he has the choice of whether he wants to know his daughter or not, rather than me making that decision for him. 

 If there is any way that you can assist me with this then it would be much appreciated.

Kind regards, Marnie Owens

I attached my mobile number and pressed SEND. Having just revealed my best kept secret through email had left me feeling bewildered. I began to wonder whether I'd done the right thing or if there was anyway to un-send an email. Just as my breathing became slightly erratic Elenore burst through the front door. 

"That bloody weirdo who sits outside the corner shop was following me again!" She exclaimed, her cheeks pink from the cold. "I'm going to ring the police next time. Bloody stalker." 

I wondered what Harry would think of the set up I had his daughter in. A dingy flat shared with a lunatic of a best friend and no parents in sight to help out. He'd probably get onto social services. 

"You probably should have called the police the first time it happened, Ele." I sighed, closing the laptop and placing it back on the bookshelf.

"Ele!" Nola blurted out, heaving herself up from the carpet and wobbling over to where Ele stood, puffing and panting. She scooped my daughter into her arms and pressed her nose.

"Hey little Styles." she cooed, winking at me. Nola looked confused; her eyebrows furrowing in a way that made her resemble a bulldog. She turned to face me for reassurance. 

"Nice one, Elenore!" I grumbled, snatching Nola from her grasp and bringing her over to where I had been sitting with the laptop. "She means you look very stylish, Nola. She likes your clothes." Nola shrugged but clapped her little pink hands anyway.

"So did you send the email, Marn?" Elenore asked whilst removing her boots at the door. 

"Yep."

"Did they reply?" She pressed, picking Nola's teddy up from the floor and chucking it into the toy box. I decided against informing her of the snot. Karma. 

"I've literally just sent it!" I laughed, wiping the left over breakfast off of the corners of Nola's mouth. She shook her head angrily and buried her face in my chest. 

"Just imagine if he decides to meet her," Elenore swooned. "He might come to our flat!" 

"I wouldn't get your hopes up," I rolled my eyes. "An email with that content will probably get filtered straight to their junk mail folder."

"Don't be so pessimistic!" Ele snapped. "I know the media have portrayed him as a bit of a ladies man but he seems like a genuine guy. For all you know he might leap at the chance to meet her, and if he does, well I hope he brings that Niall with him because he is just adorable." 

"Anyone would think you're using my situation to bag yourself a date with Niall Horan, Ele." I joked. She stuck her tongue out at me childishly. 

"You have to work with what you've got!" She disappeared into the kitchen leaving me with my thoughts.

What if Harry did decide to meet Nola? I'd be thrilled on her behalf, but would we have to bring up the awkward conversation about our night together two years ago? I knew I was probably being selfish. This wasn't about me after all.

I continued the day cleaning the house. Cleaning was the only thing that could keep my mind off anything. I'd cleaned when I'd read the pregnancy test as positive and I'd cleaned when my parents had refused to support my decision to keep the baby. Nola napped as I cleaned so I took the opportunity to tidy away her toys and the general mess she caused around the house. As I loaded the toy box with the dolls that I'd found behind the toilet in the bathroom, my phone vibrated. 

I wrenched it from my pocket and stared at the unknown number flashing on my screen. I didn't need to answer to know who it was. 

"Hello?" I stammered into the phone.

"Is this Marnie Owens?" A male voice said quickly.   

"Yes, who's this?" I asked, pretending I had no idea. 

"This is Richard Griffiths from Modest Management on behalf of Harry Styles. I'm calling in regards to the email you sent earlier today." 

a/n: OMG IT'S HAPPENING!!!!!!